A Deep Burn

This past week was filled with many mixed emotions, as it was my sixth week, I was feeling anxious, comfortable, uncomfortable, sad to be leaving soon…I was all over the board. All in all, I was a bit overwhelmed. The psychologist who normally comes in during the week didn't show up at all, therefore Katia and I were left to muster through the new patients and find out what we could do to help them. One infant had to be sent to the ICU and had an emotional break down in front of all the parents. There is nothing more frustrating that having skills and words you know will help alleviate the situation, and yet, you are unable to use your words, because you do not speak Spanish well enough. I was starting to understand Lost in Translation a bit better at this point in my day. Trying to translate constantly for hours on end is quite exhausting, to the point where I would get on the bus to pick me up from the hospital and I would just pass out on the drive home. Luckily, having the big happy 13 people back home to greet me really made the difference. Super supportive and always able to lend an ear or a shoulder, they were great, every single one of them.

I know that on this blog I have been writing about most of my cultural and travel experiences in Guatemala, however, the work plays a big part in my day as well. It’s just much harder to write about such sensitive subjects, such as skin graft surgeries, and how I interact with these kids in detail. However, noting these details of my day seem pertinent to giving you the entire story.

Roosevelt Hospital is one of two Regional Hospitals in all of Guatemala, meaning there are only two Pediatric Burn Units in the entire country. Children are brought here from all over the country, which could mean a 10 hour bus ride or a chicken bus ride from their home…not to mention you have a screaming child whose flesh is charred to what most of them have of a third degree burn. The most extensive burn I have yet to see was about 42% of their body. Most of these children live in rural areas where the only way to cook is in a giant (approximately 3 foot in diameter) fire with a pot of boiling water, after cooking the water just cools off naturally and when the kids are running around on the ground where the pot lays, they can fall in and since its so deep and so wide, they cannot get themselves out. That’s where this amazing hospital staff comes in. 

I can safely say in our burn unit, you have to have some thick skin (bad joke?) You deal with screaming children day in and day out and on top of that, you have to give these kids a bath. I will be playing with a happy 3 year old, and then he will see the nurse’s face and immediately start sobbing. I cant imagine how that would affect one’s psyche, so I give these people props. The baths are brutal, I think I am more deaf now than when I first arrived, I go in with them to help bandage them or comfort them as best I can, but all in all it feels like you aren’t making a difference, it's the occasional distraction that makes me acting like a clown all worth it. Recently they stopped giving the kids morphine and so the experience is even more traumatizing. Who ever would have thought a bath could be so terrifying? Fun fact: I asked all the nurses, they all believe that the girls are better at handling the baths than the boys are….just an opinion, but still worth noting.

Besides the bathing processes, another difficult aspect of being in this unit is of course, the lack of supplies. That was to be expected, all the same, it’s still infuriating when I think about all the supplies people waste back home and is just sitting there when these people can hardly find clean gloves to wear to give an injection. One of the hardest things for me to deal with is the use of morphine on these children. No, they don't use it as frequently as they did before I arrived, but the fact that an addictive drug has no alternative here, its challenging to accept. Especially when you are trying to play with a four year old who is so drugged he can barely hold a crayon.

My last sad situation is the parents. Mostly it is the mothers that stay day in and day out with their children. I love seeing how caring the parents are for their children, but seeing how frustrated they are that there is nothing they can do for their children, it is something I cant even fathom since I do not have children of my own, but if I already feel as bad as I do seeing them so upset…I don't even want to know quite frankly.

Its nice knowing through touch or a hug, these moms understand that I care about how they feel and I try to be as comforting as humanly possible with this translation barrier. Its nice to see them acknowledge my concern and they still attempt to talk to me in Spanish because they want me to know they appreciate me being there. That makes all the difference in my book. I feel that support is such an overlooked concept now days, people just try to be autonomous and self sufficient, and it can be to such an extreme. They are afraid to let others care for them or be vulnerable and it does nothing but hinder them even further. I know that my role here is not to change someone’s life and be given praise for doing good deeds for others, its not the point at all, my main goal was to start a change in myself and to get to know myself and passions a bit better. Give to those who don't get to have the choices I have, not because I feel pity or guilty, simply because I want to.

That being said, it is also easy to get caught up in the emotional stirs of things. Becoming too involved or taking things personally. For example, a seven year old that I have found a soft spot for called me a horrible word in Spanish, he thought it was hilarious, and I thought I would just punt him across the room. Astonished, I left the room pretty crushed, as it was his last day at the clinic after 6 weeks, I soon realized that it was just his way of getting attention and I was taking it way too personally, making a stronger case for my theory that throughout life, our main challenge is finding a balance, in all things, whether it be diet, exercise, how much time you spend at work or how much energy you give to any task.

To summarize my hospital experience, I just want to say, its not easy putting on a smiling face everyday. But having the ability to put one on someone else’s face even if it’s just for a second to help take away their pain, it’s completely worth it.  If you have the time to take a week or two to volunteer and get out of your comfort zone, I highly suggest it. You will learn more about yourself in that short amount of time than you ever deemed possible.