The End of the Middle

Hello whoever reads this. I'm finally back to posting at the urging of a few people. Where to begin? I'm thinking, at the end of the middle. 

My last post was over a month ago on February 27th. The next three days of my time in Haiti were some of my least favorite. I spent those days in a blur of stomach pain, fevers, and vomiting. Lovely, I know. Nurses really do make the worst patients. Frustration doesn't even begin to describe how I felt at not being able to complete some of my final shifts here at the Heartline field hospital before I left. I spent those feverish hours laying on a mattress in the on-call room, listening to the stupidity of the roosters at 2 a.m. on the other side of my wall. Occasionally, I would stumble out to the nurses area for water or another bathroom trip, only to be told to go lay back down and that I looked terrible. I did manage to drag myself out for our 12 minute birth in the middle of the night, but other than that, I can't figure much I did that was useful. 

Saying goodbye was hard. But in my heart, I knew I was coming back. On the plane my first touch with the reality that I wasn't in Haiti anymore was my constant saying of Mesi (thank you) whenever the flight attendant handed me something. However, my airport adventure began as my Haiti one was drawing to a close. 

There's something wrong with our engine that just doesn't look. . . right. 

My plane from Haiti landed in Miami with a 6 hour overnight from there; I was supposed to fly to LaGuardia in NYC and be back at the Akron-Canton airport by 12:30 in the afternoon. That wasn't to be. After a scary landing, complete with fire trucks and ambulances waiting for us on the runway, I found myself in line at the Raleigh-Durham international airport. Can I just tell you, I hope to NEVER see that airport again. After being told I will have to pay for another ticket to make it the whole way home, (Someone please explain to me how I would have to pay more $ for American Airlines' plane trouble?) a kind lady took pity on me and I was rebooked with a new itinerary home. 

What wasn't included on my new ticket was claiming my bags, paying to recheck them with US Air, and hiking outside and through a parking deck to get to my terminal. FUN. NOPE. Shortly after arriving in Terminal A, the electricity went out and we were told we may have a 3 hour delay. At this point I began to question if the universe was playing a big joke and in actuality I was still in Haiti-- lack of schedules and frequent loss of power--as opposed to an international airport. Finally, I made it to Philly where one of the pilots recognized me as I walked through the airport looking for food. He cheered me on as I walked by, "You can do it! You're almost home!" he shouted. You know you've had an experience when pilots in other airports recognize you and cheer you on. And to think, I chose American Airlines because I thought they were the most reliable. . . but alas, I did get to my destination in one piece, albeit 6 hours and a funny it-only-happens-to-Alisha story later. 

Home for less than 48 hours.....

After briefly being at home, I headed for a 17 hour drive to Sarasota, Florida with my college friends. Spring break (as we still choose to call it) provided a time to unwind from my experience in Haiti and all that I had witnessed. Really, it pushed back  "normal" life in Ohio longer. In some ways it was just what I needed....white sand beaches and great friends. It allowed a little time for reflection without the day to day things I had to do before I left all those weeks before. 

At the end of the week we left Florida and some of us stayed on in Savannah for a couple extra days. It was during those days I became quite angry at God. 

Disclaimer: Blogs are public displays of your thoughts, experiences, and feelings and as the author I can choose how much to reveal and in what manner. So, I hope in the following post(s) to be completely honest and open about what I'm seeing and thinking. I also hope to be transparent spiritually as I'm learning and growing throughout the crazy situations I find myself in. Allow me the grace to do that. If you choose to read, I simply ask for a lack of judgement. 

While in Savannah and then back at home, I found myself quite angry at God, and I sure let Him know it. There were multiple factors involved, but much of my anger stemmed at seeing the pain and suffering of so many people I had known in Haiti. Sure, miracles were happening all around me, sure I had experienced God's provision and grace, sure I had grown in many ways, but at that point as I thought back to my weeks in Haiti, I couldn't escape from feeling the pain, devastation, and loss I had seen firsthand. God seemed distant and void. And frankly, I was pissed. 

Added to this was loneliness. Sheer quiet that I hadn't experienced in over 6 weeks. This was the worst at night. All those weeks in Haiti I was constantly surrounded by noise and people. Haitian culture is very in-your-face. People are always talking, and talking loudly. At the hospital people were going in a hundred directions. Young patients were hanging on you--arms wrapped around waist or neck. Even when not at the hospital, medical and non-medical volunteers bonded over dinner. While in Florida I was still surrounded by my friends while at the beach or in the bathroom taking 2 hours to get ready for the night. Suddenly, nothing. I had the hardest times back at my house in Ohio at night. I felt completely alone. And angry. 

God has his sovereignty and I'm not entitled to know what it is. I'm not. I have to accept that. That's probably on a spiritual maturity level I'm not at yet. Either way, for me that anger over the pain that I had seen combined with other mixed up emotions didn't exactly leave me praising God. But, God being who He is, let me throw my temper tantrums and complain and I felt Him saying, "Ok, are you done now?" Hearing His voice, rather, caring enough to try hearing His voice since then hasn't returned to what it was. There has been quite a disconnect since then. All I will say is I'm getting better, but I'm thankful He's patient. . . . 

The Fox is in the Henhouse

That phrase was uttered by John McHoul Thursday as the Haitian government is returning to power after the earthquake--and take note world, it isn't a good thing. I'm not even going to attempt to be clever in my writing (it's too late and I'm far too tired and drained to try). Here is what I know. You decide how angry you want to get......

45 days ago the earthquake happened.
10 days ago we were getting thousands of dollars of medications and supplies sent in on a chartered plane.
9 days ago the United States military handed control of the airport back to the Haitian government as the first commercial flight landed in Port.
3 days ago, I realized not much has changed here.

The government is now taxing all supplies into Haiti. Yes, relief supplies and medications. Tents. Tarps. Food. Clothes. You name it. A box of our medication that 10 days ago got in for free is now costing $400 to get to us. Money that could be going directly to the people of Haiti. I have heard that 250 tents can only get in if a fee of $10,000 is paid. Oh the irony of typing this as I listen to rain pouring outside my window..............................

The government did provide options--perhaps it wants to give the illusion of being a democracy after all. If those bringing in relief supplies disagree with the imposed fee, we have the option to hand over our boxes to the government for their review. At some point, they will return our supplies to us. . . should they determine we aren't for profit. Let the lying commence.

In other news....
Alex spent a good portion of yesterday (Friday) at a Haitian prison. With all the stories the last few weeks of orphans being approved for adoption, then denied and placed in tents away from their escorts, craziness and lack of common sense has ensued. Unicef and other organizations here are in hyper drive--it's a mass of chaos and ridiculousness....oh and egos. In a previous post I mentioned how Alex was stuck at the airport a week ago for 6 hours then got denied. Then Josh and Alex waited 8 hours the next day, and again were denied. Then the plane was supposed to leave Monday. Yesterday topped it all.

A 7 month old baby and Alex were supposed to get final paper work and leave around 11am, Miami bound. Around 4 John McHoul stops by the hospital to inform us that Alex is in a Haitian prison. I will admit--we all laughed for a good while :). Only him. I told him he's one of the most interesting people I've ever met, so this happening isn't surprising at all. Apparently somewhere along the line, the US Consulate forgot to include the signed document with the Prime Minister's signature to allow this child to leave. Oops.

But in true governmental fashion, instead of admitting their mistake, they insulted Alex for not wearing black socks, not shaving, and not being older. I guess he forgot to pack his suit when heading for disaster relief and providing medical care into the streets of Cite Soleil. It's ok, he offered them almonds in the car as he got a police escort to the station for questioning and told one of the top officials in this country he smelled good. Maybe they can put this all behind them and be friends.....Let's hope because he's currently sitting on a bus on the tarmac waiting for round 4. Pray he gets this child to Miami (in one piece) and gets his flight back to Haiti tomorrow. Better details on the Heartline blog: http://heartlineministries.org/Blog20.aspx

Haitian government: Welcome back to power. You remind me of the mosquitoes that bite me every night: bloodsucking and useless. I wish someone would squash you.

In Loving Memory of Ceajuste
Heaven received a beautiful angel last night--dark, weathered skin, and a light blue wrap around her head. At 61, she was being treated for a broken femur from her neighbor's house falling on her. She was gentle and grateful and beautiful. Over the last few weeks I've mostly worked with the women at the hospital and Ceajuste was a constant of mine. We sent her to Double Harvest for surgery on her femur. Little did I know when she left as I was working on Thursday that she would be standing in front of Jesus 24 hours later. She died from a PE (pulmonary embolism) after her surgery Friday night. My heart hurts.

Sleeping with the Lights On

I can now say I’ve experienced an earthquake. Well two technically.

As my last post said, Port-au-Prince received a 4.7 aftershock around 4am Monday morning and a smaller one around 10. I slept through the first one and didn’t feel the second one. I headed into the hospital around 4:30 to get ready for my night shift. All seemed well, but everyone was slightly on edge talking about the day. Something didn’t feel right. Even in my facebook status I said, “. . .something’s up today.”

The night shift was going well and all our patients were tucked in, sleeping for the night. Debbie is a nurse from Alaska and I’d like to say one of the coolest people (she definitely is), but almost everyone here is amazing, so that goes without saying. We were finishing up going over medications in the charts around 1:30 when her eyes got really big, and about the time she got out the word ‘earthquake’ was about the time my brain decided to realize what actually was going on.

I can’t really put it into words, but I’m going to try. I actually heard the earth shaking--the crack of the first rumble is still ingrained in my mind. It was terrifying. Debbie and I shouted to each other to get outside and somehow my body took over and I ran down the few steps and out to where our patients were sleeping on their cots under the tarps.

Then came the screaming and crying. And praying. Our patient count was in the high 30s and with all the family staying there was around 50 people outside. Fifty people looking at me for guidance and comfort. Terror ensued and something kicked on in me and I remember running to everyone asking if everyone was ok, grabbing them water and trying to comfort them. Round two hit about 10 minutes later.

I was inside getting more water for people and trying to breathe. My mind kept saying ‘You’re alright, you’re alright. It’s over.’ It’s one of those moments when you can’t believe what just happened, happened. Then the earth started shaking again and I again ran outside. I told Debbie to wake up Dr. Brad and ran outside to move the patients that were under the cement overhang in case it got worse or it collapsed. Can you imagine the fear of these Haitians in our hospital (and around the country)? Almost all of them lost loved ones and/or are in our hospital because of injuries sustained in the quake, and here were two more aftershocks back to back in the middle of the night.

I wish I could forget the sounds of them crying and screaming. I remember running to one lady, Antionette, and holding her in my arms as the shaking continued. Antionette was pregnant and trapped in rubble for a week--I can’t imagine what she thought at that moment. She was yelling out prayers in Creole, I in English. . . praying for the ground to stop, arms held tightly around each other. Brought together from different worlds, yet, praying to the same God. When it ended I realized I had tears down my face and I was shaking uncontrollably. Most scared I have been.

Debbie and I began lifting the patients in their cots and carrying them away from the walls and from under things. The remaining 5 hours were torture. Even being inside the building to go to the bathroom terrified me because we were afraid a third was on its way. After our patients calmed down, a few hours later we asked Jonathan (our translator) if we could turn out the lights under the tarps so they could attempt some sleep. He talked with everyone and they said they would feel better sleeping with the lights on. Our lights stayed on all night.

The medical staff coming in the next morning were also extremely rattled, as most of them were woken from their sleep. I took the earthquakes pretty hard. Never before experiencing anything like that was bad enough, but having to hear the screaming and the terror my patients were experiencing was even worse; not to mention that Debbie and I were responsible for caring for them and if anything happened to them while I was there, I don’t know what I would have done. They kept looking to us for comfort and direction and God alone gave my mind some clarity and gave me strength I didn’t know I had.

The rest of the day Tuesday I can say I wasn’t doing too hot. We lost a lot of our staff that morning as they headed back home and that hit me really hard. I spent most of that day in a daze. Anytime a dump truck drove by and shook my table I would jump. Low planes also sent my heart racing and it took a lot not to show that inside I was panicking. Ryan and I were sitting outside that night and I found myself looking around the yard to determine where I should run should another one hit. Falling asleep that night took quite some time.

When re-reading my last post I can say that I was forced to take Psalm 4:8 and make it more than some words on a page. “I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.”
Oh Lord, how You made me put this into practice this week......You watched me take baby steps of faith and have carried me through with Your strength. You, alone, have made me understand this verse in new light....

How arrogant my last post seems. Only 50 seconds changed the lives of so many? Really? Because I felt the earth shake twice for about 10-15 seconds each time. I know how long 15 seconds can seem. THAT felt like an eternity and that was a 4.7 quake. I have a new perspective of 50 seconds. I really can’t imagine how long that must have felt to those here on January 12th............

"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed, " says the LORD who has compassion on you. ~Isaiah 54:10

Much love,
Alisha

Prayer requests:

• A renewing of my spirit this week as I am emotionally drained
• Complete removal of fear as I don't want to live in fear of another aftershock
• Our new medical team
• The exhaustion many of us are feeling
• The beautiful Haitian people--their physical needs, but especially their mental health as they continue dealing with these aftershocks
  

Normal is a Dryer Setting.

"Life isn't normal. . . normal is a dryer setting."
This is a quote from Jessica, a Canadian nurse, last night at dinner.

That quote pretty much sums up where my head was at yesterday. We headed out to tour the city again: same buildings still down, much of the same sights, the center of the Palace is crumbling even further. In a lot of ways I'm pretty immune to seeing destroyed buildings, but I am NOT yet immune to the human suffering that these tours reveal.

At the clinic Rosemon is an 8 year old boy who was trapped for 3 days in rubble. All his siblings and parents are dead. It's just him and grandma. (Whole story on Jared and Jalayne's blog). He is a miracle and has been bouncing around the clinic for the last few weeks with his bandaged head, goofy high pitched voice, and gimpy little walk. He's ornery and a sweetheart--always getting into something, but always smiling. After we got back to the hospital in the afternoon we noticed he was completely silent and reserved..he wouldn't walk with us or anything. In Jessica's ear I heard him barely whisper "My dad is dead. My mom is dead,"-tears spilling down his face. That rattled me a lot.

I snuck away to the swings to try and clear my head, and I kept getting hit with the realization that THIS is now what is "normal". How can everything an entire country once knew change in 50-some odd seconds? Normal now means living in a sweltering tent. Normal is begging for food. Normal is missing body parts. Normal is continuing life without the ones that used to fill that life.

Grief is definitely a processes and Rosemon reminded me of how intense and long that process is going to be all across this country. I wish I knew where to start. Haiti is a whole nation grieving, that will one day have to process this grief. Haiti is now an entire country full of people scared to go into buildings. How do you treat that?

We had a 4.7 aftershock this morning around 4:30 am. I slept through it mostly, but many of the other medical team members were jostled out of their sleep (some even heading outside). Winni, a Haitian nurse at the field hospital, said all the Haitian people on her street went running outside. We had another one mid morning. I didn't really notice that one either, but the last two days I have been feeling some tremors--the ground just seems a little more active the last two days. According to geologists, there is a 90% chance of a 5.0 quake in the next month.

Last night's church service rings loud in my ears. Jon said the safest place on Earth is in the middle of God's will. How true this is. I know He called me to be in Haiti for this time, and I know His hand is on me and the others that He brought together... so that is my comfort during my time here--aftershocks, predictions and all.

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety" ~Psalm 4:8

In Christ in Haiti (as Jon and Beth say),
Alisha

Things to keep in prayer here:
Those in the tents as rainy season approaches (it's rained a lot more this last week)
People here grieving over lost loved ones
People (Haitian and Volunteers) that are wrestling with their faith and God
Jon and Beth McHoul as they continue to run this hospital
Jared and Jalayne Coblentz

Going with the flow: Updates and an IV--Part2

This week really has been an absolute blur. Three 12 hour shifts, then an 8 and 9 hour day with crazyiness has made it impossible to remember what happened on what day so bare with me. It’s been wonderful getting to know the medical staff.... great times laughing together after a crazy day on Tuesday. Wednesday night was tattoo night at the McHoul’s. Ryan, Jess (nurse), Emily (pharmacist), Kelly (nurse/standup comedian) and Beth all got tattoos--not what I expected in Haiti. Although nothing here goes as expected...(Mom, I didn't get one--yet)

A few nights ago Josh Hill (a friend of Ryan) got in. Good times and fun conversation with Josh and Alex before bed. After Alex felt the need to laugh at me and jokingly inform me for the next 2 hours that I’m about to be over the hill and destined to never get married (despite being about the same age), we all shared about what we want in a guy or girl. Lots of fun hearing their guy perspectives.

SO: as a result of last night’s conversation, I’ve decided since I’m in Haiti I need to change my criteria a bit.
All I now want in a guy is:
1). If he can bring me chocolate. (It’s a luxury here and I didn’t realize how much I crave it--even better if it’s combined with coffee in drink form & in a Starbucks cup )
2). If he can provide bug spray (I’d die without it....It’s like Haiti’s perfume)

Things change here in Haiti so quickly. Flexibility is the only way you make it through your day and I thought I had adapted to that here, but I’m still surprised at how fast things change!! Because of the craziness of our situation and the intensity of each day, you become so close with people so fast! Some of our nurses left on Thursday and it was so hard to see them go :(. Another nurse Jess left Friday morning. Suddenly around lunch Alex comes in and said he's headed back to the US. Thinking he is joking as usual we don't believe him. But, turns out he was supposed to escort a 5 year old orphan girl to Miami, as a person with a US passport or visa is needed. He then would have to wait until the 25th to get a charter back in.

Friday I also ended up with my second IV while in Haiti-this time for being dehydrated. That was hard because I felt like I was letting everyone else down--just frustrating. Suddenly, things change yet again as Alex comes walking in the house that night. Apparently after waiting 5 hours at the US Consulate the plane was canceled. Now this is not a funny situation, as I'm sure her adoptive parents are waiting for her, but for us here watching Papa Alex (as he's now called) walk into the house that night declaring he hates kids and recounting his day with this little 5 year old girl, it was extremely funny. I thought he was joking about how full of energy she is until I saw her in action myself tonight. Good luck new family! haha.

Today was a beautiful day...from start to finish. The sun was just a wonderful way to wake up and I finally got a little quiet time to myself and a great night of sleep! Back at the hospital nurse Jess came back from Pinion; she said she just couldn't leave all of us and spent a lot of yesterday crying. We are SO glad she's back. Like I said, things change from hour to hour here. Alex headed back to the Consulate on daddy duty and suddenly Josh was put to work (which was an answered prayer) as two more children are getting let into the US. It's crazy to be here and in on hearing these stories of adoption from this side of things! So suddenly, Josh was whisked away to join Alex except now it's two 20-something year old guys escorting a 5 year old, a 1 year old, and a 4 month old back to the States. I only WISH I had a video camera to see how this goes!! Again their plane didn't get off the ground and another 8 hours was spent waiting. Day to day, hour to hour...such is life here in Haiti.

Orevwa!!

"It's a Broken Hallelujah"

Another novel: I just can't help it!

Sunday I got to go down to the USS Comfort ship to pick up a few of our patients. All I have to say is the US military base is a pretty incredible thing to see--all branches of the military, tents for miles, military planes taking off! A couple air force guys were so kind and kept asking us if we needed food or water or if they could give us anything. Just know, they are here to help and are doing a great job (regardless of what is being said in the media).

Later, Dr. Brad and the rest of us medical people headed into downtown Port by the palace to get a better feel for the devastation. THERE WILL NEVER BE ADEQUATE WORDS: power lines down, rubble still spilling into the street....we even had to duck a few times riding in the back of the truck as it just passed under downed electric wires. It feels and looks like a war zone. The center part of the palace is falling lower than when I saw it two weeks ago. It also was surreal seeing what is left of the national cathedral here. It made a bunch of us sick to our stomachs knowing the remains of people are still trapped in many of the building we are seeing. A different feel pervades the camp outside the palace too---slightly more subdued with more overtones of sadness than when we got in 3 weeks after the earthquake--for when we got here there was a more chaotic and desperate survival mode going on.

Again, you meet people eye to eye and you don't know how to react.

Sunday night the medical staff had worship at the missionary house that feeds us every night. It was such a remarkable feeling to be able to worship alongside people that I didn't even know existed a few weeks ago that now feel like family. ''And all will say, how great is our God"

The last 2 days of 12-15 hour shifts are becoming a blur. The Haitian people and the medical staff make every second of this worth while. I have to admit, I was quite drained Monday: the emotional toll of what I've been experiencing and saw in the city Sunday was overwhelming. BUT there are many amazing stories!!! Little Edison who just last week was sobbing his eyes out was literally doing back flips on his cot....broken femur and all. Three minutes later, he found gauze and purple wrap and has bandaged his own head!! Today..he was finally reunited with his family!!! His dad took him to the USS Comfort 3 weeks ago and had no idea where he was; after the staff here got him on the TV, his dad was found! We will miss him so dearly here but are so happy for his ending--and new beginning!

A few things I hope people know:
In an early blog I mentioned a man named Richard. He is a Haitian born man in his late 50s who now resides in Miami. On the way in from Santo Domingo I got to talk with him about how he has seen Haiti change since he was little. He mentioned something that I can't stop thinking about. He said he knows God didn't cause such destruction, but he wonders how bad things were getting here that this kind of change had to take place. Specifically, he was referring to the government here (which if you know anything about Haiti...it's horribly corrupt. EXAMPLE: We had 2 gunshot wound patients last week because the police shot into the crowd!). He said, "Every single government building from the palace to the smaller branch buildings have been completely destroyed. That is NOT a coincidence. Believe me, you do NOT want to know the kind of evil that took place in that palace.".......
He also said his solemn prayer is that Haiti is rebuilt in such a powerful way, (not by any one group or organization) NO ONE can deny that God did it. The power behind his hope still stays with me a few weeks later......I can't shake it.

That is what I hope you (whoever YOU are who is reading this) know about this country. . .

Yes, it is a fourth world nation. FOURTH world. Deemed one of the least developed, dead-end countries of illiterate, voodoo-ist heathens that only loot and beg to get by. Why would you dare to rebuild Port-au-Prince where it is!? Don't they know that there is going to be another 7.5+ quake that will happen!? "I've been to Africa and it doesn't even compare to the culture and violence here."..... The UN deemed the heart of Cite Soleil THE most dangerous place on Earth: you don't go in unless you want to be kidnapped and slowly tortured.

To those people, I say, you know nothing about Haiti. At all. Yes, there is heartbreak and sadness that no human being should ever know in their lives. There are things I have been told and am finding out that I don't think I can post here. There are not always happy endings and a silver lining.

BUT: There is a hope here that CANNOT be killed. But, the thing about hope is--it can rip your heart out. If you didn't care, then there would be no pain--but there also would be no hope. C.S. Lewis said, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
To hope is to go along for the ride--from the exhilarating highs to the devastating lows. To continue on through the lows takes courage and a strength not a lot of people possess. Hope is not a passive, emotion-driven entity; it's a conscious (and unconscious) peace and understanding that something will come through. . . .and please make no misunderstanding that true hope can ONLY be found in God and His power.

As I have found in the last few years and however many months, Hope keeps propelling you forward--often when you don't know why or even want it to. You can declare you've had enough, but it keeps rising up. Haiti will rise up...I have met too many remarkable people here to believe otherwise.

You can choose to believe the statistics. That's fine. But those statistics are wrong. NO statistic can tell you the miracles that are occurring here. There are smiles through the pain and people that have been rocked to their core again and again in this life, but they keep hoping.

A verse that has been my lifeline the last few months and my favorite verse is Proverbs 13:12--"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." Some of you know why this is so important to me, most of you do not. But this verse comes to mind here in this country. Hope is alive in Haiti. God is also very alive here.

Lespwa fe vive is a Haitian proverb. It means "By hope we live." The Haitian people are living each day by hope--often not knowing where it comes from. I hope you know Hope is from God. I pray that in whatever you're going through hope shines through the darkness and you have the strength and courage it takes to continue hoping.

The pain is imaginable here, but there is much Hope in Haiti..........


Much love <3,
Alisha

Happy Valentines Day: Perfect Love Drives out Fear

So, I don’t know if its morning or night anymore as I finished up part of a day shift and 3 night shifts on a total of about 8 hours of sleep yesterday morning. I guess we had an aftershock around 630 am. Dr. Brad comes out of his room at the field hospital and says, “Did you guys feel that!? My bed just started shaking!” To which I wanted to reply...’No, I didn’t because I was asleep face down on the desk drooling.’ :) I felt useless Friday night because my body had barely slept in 3 days and it officially decided it wasn’t going to function--night shift or not. Other nurses staying at another missionary house also said they felt it. I understand how many of the Haitians don’t want to go back to sleep in their houses if they still have them. It’s the second aftershock in the last 3 days...again haven’t felt either, but now that I’m here, I’m OK with that.

A quick note to my youngest brother, Steven: I know you were telling mom you didn’t know how I could come down here since you know the extent of my klutziness. Since you’re always the one around when I do dumb things like fall into walls and get stuck in my coat, I thought you should know I’m still doing dumb things down here! A few days ago I sprayed myself in the eye with 100 proof DEET (bug spray) and had to throw water in my eyes for 10 minutes. Laugh away buddy. I’ll be home in a few weeks to annoy you again!......(And Brian, I told mom what reminded me of you the other day..but she can tell you that haha).

Yesterday was a day off after I was done with work in the morning. Definitely needed because I don’t sleep here..don’t know why. Emily, the pharmacist here gave me Ambien to help me sleep and even with that I only slept 3 hours. In the late afternoon I headed across Port with Ryan to meet up with a Haitian family he loves and stayed with last summer. They are, by far, some of the most wonderful people I’ve met here. When I told Mama she looked “se belle (beautiful)” she kept saying it back to me, hugged me, & gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Their house is narrow, dark rooms of block and dirt floors, with birds walking around in it; poverty by our standards but more middle class here, but this is a place that definitely feels like home!!! Got to crawl onto the roof and enjoy the view of the city as the mountains slope down to meet the ocean at the port where the military and relief ships are docked.

Ryan wanted to take the family out to dinner so we headed to the Visa Lodge (which is the only restaurant open). Loved getting to talk to Girard who wards off girls by wearing a fake wedding ring haha. Him and his younger brother, Davidson, are complete gentleman...waiting on me leaving the restroom before rejoining the group, grabbing my bookbag for me so I don’t have to lift it--just the absolute sweetest guys and family. I couldn’t have had a better time with them. Walking back in the dark with them I asked Girard about the day of the earthquake. He said he knew he had to get to his family in the chaos to see his mom and 5 other brothers and sisters and said he put his faith in God and just said “God, You are the only one who knows where they are.” We talked about faith and trusting in God and what that means, and he demonstrated how strong of a faith he has. He also mentioned how as humans though, we still have our doubts. It was just the conversation I needed to have.....no matter what culture we’re from, we are all so similar it’s amazing.

Later a bunch of us nurses got together and enjoyed a beer and laughed and talked at one of the houses we’re staying at. These people are truly so wonderful. It felt so great to decompress about the craziness of what we’re doing and what we’re seeing and to just laugh.

To round out the night of community here, back at the McHoul’s I spent the next 3 hours talking with Alex, an EMT from Los Angeles, who’s about the same age and is here for the next however many months helping. His family has been in the process of adopting a Haitian girl for 6 years and because of the earthquake she was put on one of the charter jets and flown out of here a few weeks ago. More great conversation on life and God.

Just the perfect day to get to know people. I wish I could explain the miracle stories of people here..the personal journeys ...the family...all of it, but those are someone else’s stories to tell. It’s just amazing how for this brief period of time, all of us from all over the world are in the same place, laughing, crying, and sharing about ourselves together.
Tonight a guy is coming over and some of the medical people here are getting tattoos. (It’s a surprise mom if I do or not haha...wait and see).

Before this gets any longer, I want to post Jon McHoul’s blog address here. Him and his wife are running this temporary field hospital and I’m living at his house. They have been in Haiti for 20 years and are amazing. Please check it out to get a better idea of the hospital here and what is going on from his perspective. It’s amazing!!
http://heartlineministries.org/Blog20.aspx

Happy Valentines day everyone back home! I am beyond blessed with some pretty wonderful people and the most supportive friends! Love you all!! <3