Back to Clinic

Today I took the now familiar drive to Carrefour, bumping along rough roads. The route passes the busy city market, the smell of fish and smoke ride on the air. My wheels dodge piles of trash and foraging pigs, goats and dogs; I pass by hundreds of vendors peddling everything from bananas to bed frames. I caught a glimpse of the ocean and the working harbor full of barges heavy with loads of imported items. My route took me past barrios with lean-to houses and naked children skirting around in the dust, past the formidable looking Senatorial buildings that are well painted and surrounded by groomed lawns. I rolled past the water purification plant and its parade of water trucks carrying their slishy-sloshy loads muddying the roads they lumber down. Women with baskets of eggplants, onions, carrots, and potatoes balanced on their head passed by my window as did men pulling wooden carts piled high with wood, stripped car parts, and tires. Busses shared the roads with me, their exterior splashed with color and interior packed full with travelers.

I look forward to this drive each week, to the intensity of all the sights, sounds and smells that great me with each new block. It provides a cliff-notes-like summary of urban Haitian life.

Clinic today welcomed me back to work with many patients waiting to be seen: children with fevers, goopy eyes and dry coughs, men with sore backs and high blood pressure, women with pregnant bellies and complaints of fatigue. Thanks to generous gifts brought by groups, I’m now able to ensure a child gets a needed antibiotic, a gentleman has a little relief from his sore joints, a fetal heartbeat can be found, lighting up the face of an expectant mother. I can now assure myself with a new pulse oximeter that a coughing man doesn’t need to rush to the hospital. For a doctor, these gifts help transform a job that once left me feeling like my efforts were futile into one in which I can harbor hope. So today was a good day.

The clinic at Carrefour reminds me most of our busy family practice clinic in residency, filled with patience of all ages, illnesses of all varieties and an intimate setting where stories can be shared. I work with a Haitian doctor who has dreams of setting up a lab, health education seminars and ensuring better patient follow-up. Being back today in the midst of this tiny clinic's grassroots outreach after some time away made me excited for the work at hand, hopeful for what we can accomplish, and honored to be a part of it all.