Over the Mountains and through the rivers we go- this is our last day on the road of broken backs.
I don’t mind it all that much actually- it is what it is.... starting to feel a bit sad that we are on the downside of the week.
My morning was uneventful- a few prenatal exams, lots of heartburn, too much coffee etc. The interpreters are on the ball- after working with us all week, they can anticipate our questions and our responses to the common ailments.
Lunch came and I spent a good 20 minutes painting lots of little adorably dirty fingernails. A pick up truck came up the path and right up to the clinic, which was odd because we kept the vans and trucks out of the courtyard. There were a few ket-chi exchanges that I of course didn’t understand and they were asking for the doctors. In the back of the pick up was a young man lying with a hat over his face and a tourniquet around his thigh above a bloody leg. The story , we’re told is He cut his leg with a machete in the field a few hours before- his brother was with him, tied a cloth around his leg to stop the bleeding and they started to walk home. On the walk home he became dizzy and passed out- then a passing truck picked him up and drove him to our clinic.
4 men carried him in to our classroom and laid him on our table. He was overheated and weak, but vitals were good. We cooled him off and cut his jeans off- fortunately no major bleeding so Dr. Carla was able to stitch him up and after an hour or so we could send him on his way. So thankful it wasn’t worse.
When we were cleaning up from that, one of the Translators came to tell me there was a woman down the road in her home about to give birth and they needed some help. Are you kidding me?? Margie, one of our nurses was an OB nurse and I went to go get her. We packed our supplies including a bag of birthing kits and we took off down the road on foot. I cannot lie- we were both pretty excited, but we weren’t really sure what to expect- the request seemed urgent but the language barrier is real. We are taken up a hill, through a front yard, around the clothesline, through another yard, behind a small structure- and then through a small door- Margie, me, 2 student interpreters and 3 people from Fundinor.
Margie and I, out of breath and sweating, quickly checked the baby’s heartbeat, did an exam, checked her progress- all good. It was quiet as I took direction from Margie because I was clearly out of my element. After a few minutes of gathering information, we kind of whispered to each other- everything seemed under control.. we’re not exactly sure what the urgency was- so I asked “Is there a midwife here?” A very small but wise looking woman that was standing in the corner raised her hand. O. My. Goodness. We just barged in like a bunch of idiots.
Through the interpreters I apologized profusely and explained that we thought there was a problem and they needed help urgently. We meant no disrespect to their abilities or their customs. The midwife calmly and quietly explained she had all the knowledge she needed , but not the supplies for the birth. She remembered me from last year- and I’m now assuming sent word for us for to bring her a birthing kit. She graciously accepted our apologies and we even shared a few smiles and laughs. She explained the birthing kits from last year were a great help to her but she was out of supplies. She thanked us for all we were doing to help her and her community by coming to Guatemala. I left her the birthing kits, the extra gloves and hand sanitizer and chux pads-everything I had. She invited us to stay and assist her if we wanted- but we declined-(To be perfectly honest, I would have given my red hair and freckles to stay and observe the wonder of birth, but it was an hour before we would be pulling out, and it just didn’t feel right) She didn’t need our help or our intrusiveness. I am so thankful we left that room on a positive note and did not damage the relationship we were all trying so hard to build here. I believe the fact we had met last year and the remorseful expression on our faces showed them we were genuinely there to help them.
I still have so much to learn.
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