This past week was one of the best weeks I have had in Guatemala (I say this a lot, because it’s true… I’ve had many “best weeks” here… I guess that’s what happens when you live in an environment where God is constantly rocking your world). The week was a “Medica Jornada” where we had 26 doctors from the US, primarily Pennsylvania, come and check out our students, their families, the orphans and their caretakers from down the street, and kids from two feeding programs as well as a lot of random people. We had hundreds of patients and they got full service. They got to get their eyes checked and received glasses if necessary (really attractive glasses at that… let’s just say there’s a whole bunch of aviators in Quetzaltenango now), their ears checked so at last they now know if they are deaf or not (there are so many times that I asked someone, “do you have trouble hearing?” “What?” and after about 4 tries, they’d answer, “Oh no, I hear just fine”), Dentists looked at their teeth and took out a shockingly and disgustingly high number of teeth from the mouths of people of all ages, and a general check up as well. It was awesome.
My job for this trip was to translate for the check-in/triage nurse. This was awesome because I got to talk about everything from allergies to the sun to hysterectomies. I have a dream of someday hosting short-term teams here in Guatemala (that is if I can learn better Spanish, get established independently, and find a program that I’m passionate about as well as overcoming the hurdle of separating myself from the Walla Walla and Gig Harbor communities, so let’s not hold our breath that this will happen, but it is a dream and desire for my life… one of many!!), and doing that on a smaller level (translating, answering some questions, having insanely long hours but not being solely in charge) was really cool to see that yes, this is a huge passion of mine. I also learned about two other passions I have: helping people communicate and helping people get better. Translating for a medical team really allows for both to happen. I loved seeing two people from completely different worlds (my nurse from rural Pennsylvania and the woman from urban Qutezaltenango) be able to communicate, and being that bridge for their communication was really incredible. I also loved seeing people receive medications, glasses, explanations, or dental care (aka teeth taken out and the resulting bloody mouths) and get on the road for health and healing. To be a part of a community of people dedicated to help the health of these complete strangers was insanely awesome.
I also had some personal satisfaction. My students and their families all came in so during down times or at least when I had their intakes, I got to play with them, give them high 5, or do something else to remind them that they’re loved. I love these students – all 220 of them – so it was great to hang out with them in that way. There’s just something to be said about hanging out with them when they’re not in their formal school uniforms.
I also got to see how God works and helps me accomplish my goals. When I heard about the Jornada in October, I was nervous. I really wanted to help translate for it but I was also very aware that my language skills were lacking and, although knowing your colors, shapes, and names of food is helpful, it’s not quite sufficient for explaining to foreign doctors what’s up with their patient. In April, I was still really nervous about it. I had learned some medical words from my various stomach revolting issues, but not very much. At the end of May, this jornada was still on my mind and I was nervous. Yes, I was living with a family so my conversation skills were improving, but my medical terminology was definitely not. Then I got appendicitis. That taught me a lot of medical terminology including appendix, stitches, pain, and surgery. It also taught me about the medical system here and I was able to understand better what world these patients come from (from my experience, the use of gloves, asking for medical history, ear and eye exams, and a lot of other things we take for granted is not here so us having it was confusing for some). Finally, I gained a great respect for nurses and people who have to take intake information. It’s a hard job – hard to get the information, to make the people comfortable there, and to hear some of their stories.
I want to share with you some of the stories that I heard…
There was the lady who was chronically nervous after her son was shot 8 years ago. She kept talking about her nervousness and how it has led to high blood pressure, diabetes, and increased “manchas” (spots… often freckles) on her face. I finally asked her what she was nervous about and she said that her son was shot 8 years ago after borrowing money from a friend and not paying it back in time. Although he was shot two zones away, she was still really scared and lived alone in one of the most notoriously dangerous zones in the city. What a sad, terrifying way to live…
Quick break to talk about education... I can't tell you how many people talked to me about their manchas - their spots on their face - aka freckles. They were concerned that they had them and asked for lotion to make them disappear. That is just one, very minor, example of how grateful I am for my medical education that comes with my nationality and social class...
There was also a lady who was complaining of headaches that she had had for just over two years. She was really sure of the time so I finally asked her, what happened two years ago, any trauma? And she told me that her boyfriend at the time kicked her in the face and threw her against the wall. No wonder her head hurts. Then, from there, we began talking about safe, healthy relationships and how they’re sometimes hard to come by but totally worth it when they do.
And, there was the 19 year-old who came in with her mom and looked terrified. After a bit of talking, we realized that she was over two months late on her period and she was afraid that she was pregnant. She didn’t know how to find out so she had waited for the Jornada to ask. So, she came in and met with us and then a doc from the States. The doctor sent her to get a pregnancy test and told her to come back with the results. The girl came back the next day and looked absolutely terrified. She saw me and gave me the (still sealed) envelope with the results. SHE HADN’T OPENED IT! I went to get the doctor and we looked at it and it was negative. This poor, exhausted, obviously terrified and sleep-deprived girl looked so relieved and confused and happy and more confused. Then, I translated for (and of course contributed in) a 20 minute conversation about the importance of birth control, condoms, protection, and saying no to guys taking advantage of you. It was amazing to have conversations that need so much to be heard happen here like that.
There was also an older patient who had a pulse of 40… another with a blood sugar of 378 after 12 hours of fast. Giving these people the facts and resources to help them get their vital stats on track was so great.
Then, there was the group that broke my heart. We have four students at our school from a rural aldea near Lago Atitlan. Their first language is K’itche and Spanish is a second. I don’t know how our school found them, but boy have they stolen my heart! Anyways, they live in Xela, three of them together and the other working to earn food and housing as a servant in the house of two students at our school (that’s a whole other story). Their families all live hours away. But, they told their families who told their families who told their families and we had probably around 70 patients who came in. They piled in the back of their truck Wednesday morning under a tarp and arrived at the school by 6am in order to have sufficient time to register for our 8am start. It was crazy! Ages 1 month to 90! And, to make matters crazier, many didn’t speak Spanish. These people have incredibly limited resources so some of their stories are the most heartbreaking/reminding for me about how much I have…
There was the older woman who is deaf and mute. Her daughter, who understood her crazy motions spoke K’itche. One of our students who is family to them told me in Spanish what the daughter said, and then I told the nurse in English. Yes - four languages… one of which isn’t even real (family known motions…) We managed to explain everything to her and even got her blood sugar taken without too much surprise. It was awesome. The hardest thing with that group was that she was one of seven who was having intake together and as I would talk to one of her relatives, she would move her hands wildly waiting for her daughter to translate. When she did, it was always about how happy this woman was because God had blessed her with the opportunity to come. So inspiring!There was another family who had a little seven month old boy. During intake, she looked at me in the eyes and said, in Spanish, “My little boy has something wrong”. She showed me his ears. One was normal sized and the other the size of a newborn’s ears. He was deaf on one ear, maybe two, and without x-rays and the possible surgery, there’s nothing we can do. To get x-rays, this family would probably have to choose between dinner for a month or x-rays, so it’s possible that nothing will ever happen. That sucks. I want to help people!
The cousin of this boy was five years old. But, he was the size of an 18-month to 2 year old. He was so small and had the little tummy of starvation (more bloated than tummy). It was heartbreaking to see him and talk to his mom and just realize how little understanding they have of nutrition.
Then, there was another boy who had been having stomach pains for 3 years. After talking for a bit with the mom, she finally said that it started when he was playing and a pila (a giant sink) fell on him and crushed his stomach. He went to the ER and had surgery but it still hurts. Wow. I have so much empathy for stomach surgery pain!
Finally, there was the dentist. This was my favorite because of the juxtaposition. There was constant screaming, wailing, and tears coming from there. We only did extractions so there was very little to be overjoyed about. One girl from our preschool class was in the dentist and screamed bloody murder the entire time. Hannah, our volunteer who was translating, had tears streaming down her face. It was so hard to see so much pain. Yet, we all knew it was for the better. And the dentists, some of my new life teachers, always had a smile on their faces and never complained. They knew they were saving kids faces from rotting off and although it was a bit uncomfortable at the moment, it would be for the best. They saw the big picture and let that provide them happiness. Way to go dentists!
Well, that’s all the stories for today. I’m sure more will come with time (and after I can communicate and think in one language and clearly… which may take a while... I'm linguistically toast right now!)
Katharine
(Thanks to our triage nurse, Laurie, for the pictures!)
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