Logan- our oldest- got to town yesterday. After the rigors of getting him here and fighting customs to get our some boxes through- which didn't happen- I had a rare day of rest planned. We were going to spend today with Logan and the kids. I thought maybe we could load up the car and take a picnic on an abandoned beach about 15 minutes down the road. What a fun time...
I got a call early to say that Daphne, the sweet 20 year old that was blinded from diabetes, (click here to read about her) had gotten sicker through the night so I decided to go and get her to take her to the hospital. As I pulled our of our gate I was met by a guy that told me that a lady that was living in the refugee camp from the earthquake was pregnant but was having trouble with the delivery because of high blood pressure and no medication at the little clinic next door. She did not have the $60 usd to pay to have the baby at the hospital. I went and checked on her and decided to take her to the hospital with me too.
Daphne was sick for a couple of days and then her blood sugar was elevated and we could not get it back down. We gave her an IV of fluids yesterday for dehydration and I had Alexandra, a nurse friend, come and spend the day with her and she was looking better last night. But when I got to the mission this morning she was non-responsive. I picked her up and put her in the car with the lady having the baby and headed to the hospital.
Once at the hospital we got Daphne in a little room. I paid the fees for the room and the IV and fluids and a nurse tried for 30 minutes to start an IV. She finally called another nurse and she seemed to get the IV started and we got Madame Charles settled in the delivery room and paid them the $60 usd to deliver the baby.
I worked my way back through the crowd to Daphne's room and the IV was going good. Robins was there with me and things seemed okay. The nurse left the room to go find the doctor and all of a sudden I realized Daphne stopped breathing. I checked and she had no pulse. There were no machines hooked to her to beep or flat line or anything it was just like things were in slow motion. I started mouth to mouth and chest compressions. As I gave the breaths, the putrid air that had built up in her lungs during the infection was exhaled into my mouth and I nearly vomitted. I regained my composure and continued the breaths and compressions while Robins called for the doctor or someone to come. I cried out to God for Him to save her. Still no pulse. After several minutes the doctor showed up and stopped me from trying to continue to revive her. It was too late. She was gone. Just like that. I stood there with the taste of death on my lips. I have grown accustomed to the smell of death, but this was the first time for me to taste it. It was worse than I would have imagined. I have spent all day washing my face and trying to get rid of the smell and taste...I read that you don't smell in your sleep, I will be glad to pillow my head tonight.
I had to call Daphne's mom and the people at the clinic that helped us find her originally and tell them the news. I would have to put her in the car and take her to Port au Prince to a morgue and meet with the family. We would be responsible for the funeral and burial.
I ran by our house to get some cash for the trip and the preparations. As we were pulling out of our drive way, we met pastor Remy. He was walking with a man and carrying a baby all dressed up and wrapped in a towel. I stopped and got out and greeted them. The baby's mom died last week and the 2 month old was too much for the dad to handle along with the other 7 kids in the family. He had asked if we could take the baby. They were coming to drop her off. I told pastor the situation and sent him on to the house to meet with Joy. We continued on to PaP.
We met the mother and the representative from the funeral home on a side road in PaP. The mother came to me screaming and wailing. She said she wanted to see her baby. As the morgue workers put her into the body bag I pulled back the sheet and let the mother see her face. She was hysterical as I just held her and tried to comfort her by reminding her that God's child had died too. I did not know what else to say. A large crowd gathered to gawk at the spectacle. Not a fun time.
After the mom got back in her car and left, we finished up with the morgue representatives and started the planning for the funeral. They are anticipating riots starting Monday night following re-release of the re-recount of the election results so we want to have the funeral before then. Hopefully Saturday.
We left the morgue representatives and headed to customs to try to convince them to give us our Christmas gifts for the kids- ours kids and at the mission- and Christmas tree we had shipped in. I did not agree with the fees the customs agent told me I had to pay but I was too tired to fight about it. I once swore under my breath that I hated this country. I regretted saying it because Wesner and Robbins were there. I tried to take it back by saying it was the government and the injustice that I hate. But I actually don't know what all it is that I hate. I learned today that I hate the taste of death. I hate corruption that oppresses the poor and helpless. But I am sure there are some things that I hate that God would have me to love and some things that I love that God would have me to hate. I just have to pray He reveals to me which is which.
God was good and we were able to get everything out of customs without having to pay TOO much more than it was worth. Then we headed back to Montrouis.
As we entered Montrouis we went by the refugee camp to check on Madame Charles and her baby. She had a boy. It was easy to tell it was a boy because of the pink blanket and pink flannel gown and pink booties he was wearing. Baby and mother are fine. He's beautiful. Lying in a hut in a temporary refugee camp surrounded by desperate people that were eager to beg me to bring them more fish this week, he was blessed to be alive. He is blessed because He has a future. It may not be what we as American's would call a future but Jeremiah says God has a plan for ALL of our lives and that it is a good plan. I don't see how Daphne growing up in Cite Soleil- hell on earth- then going blind at 19 and dying at 20 is a good plan. But I trust God is good. I am glad I got to know her. I am glad I got to help her for a few short months and that she died in a hospital not in a shack in a slum and being buried in a dump. I miss her already but she had asked God to forgive her of her sins and be her savior. She can see again tonight. She is not sick. She is not lying in bed crying with pain in her legs. She is seeing Jesus- and that is a good plan!