Mission Trip Report Day Six:

Today was a day that solidified why I was to be here on this mission trip. We had split our medical team in two, sending half to the clinic we were at yesterday and the balance to the New Mission School in Bombita, about 10-15 minutes away by vehicle. I was on the team that was at the clinic. We arrived just after nine and were beginning to set up to receive patient at ten (although as we rolled into the compound in our “safari trucks” there was already a crowd of over thirty patients gathered and waiting under the tent in the worship area).

I had a table assigned to me for the supplies I would need for triage and treatment, and was just getting ready to set them out when a commotion at the front door caught my attention. A young lady, doubled over in pain was whisked into the clinic being supported on both sides by two men, and accompanied by at least one other woman. She was in obvious distress and was quickly taken to one of the doctor’s exam rooms and placed on the table. Presuming this to be a trauma related incident, I immediately went to the room and offered to help the doctor.

We began to do an assessment, checking pulse, blood pressure, and other vital signs. We were hindered by the fact that the young woman was Haitian and spoke Creole. One of her male friends that had helped her get to the clinic spoke enough Spanish to translate for the Doctor who is bilingual in English and Spanish. Apparently this pain had been low grade for several days, possibly even a week, but had gotten acutely severe this morning. Through a series of exams it was concluded that she most likely had an ectopic pregnancy or other reproductive organ issue. We gave her a shot for pain and I was able to start an I.V. and push some fluids to combat the dehydration and blood loss. We called a taxi and paid the driver to take her to the hospital in Puerto Plata. The doctor wrote out a detailed assessment and treatment summary and gave it to the driver. She, her friends, and the I.V. bottle, sped off.

In reflection, we did what we could with what we had, and hopefully saved her life. When I compare how the event went contrasted to what would have happened if she were in Roswell, and had walked into a fire station, I am reminded of how blessed we are in the U.S., and how desperate the need for better health care is here.

Comparatively, the rest of the day was mundane and routine. I am reminded of the sarcastic comment, “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?” My ever-present God-sent interpreter Dorcas, and I saw men, women, and children – lots of children – with colds, headaches, backaches, fevers, and other similar issues. We tried to give each one a good assessment, lots of love, some over-the-counter medicine, and a Dum-Dum lollipop. I referred several of them to the doctors for further assessment. Most importantly we tried to show these patients that there is a God who loves them, who cares for them and who has a special plan for their life. Dorcas, sweet blessed humble servant of God, that she is, was able to share the plan of salvation with several of the patients – augmenting the fabulous job being done by our outreach team. It is our goal that every adult and school age child we encounter hears the gospel presented to them through the drama, and through group presentations, and by personal, individual witnessing.

When we board the plane on Friday and head home, what we leave behind in terms of treated patients will be significant. Most importantly of all however, is what we leave behind in lives that are forever changed and secured for eternity because they now have a personal relationship with Christ. Life for the people we saw this week will probably not get much better. Poverty will most likely be their lot until they die. How important it is then, that they have a hope and a security in the knowledge that there is an eternity that awaits them. They need to know that Jesus will liberate them from the shackles and burdens of this world and will call each of them by name, and say “welcome home.” That is what this week is all about – may I never forget it.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,

Scott