After resting there for about 20 minutes or so Andrea and a nurse woke me up and invited us to stay the night on the beds in the ER. So happy to get off the floor, Riah and I rushed right over. They were finished up with their last patient and turned off the lights so we could get a little shuteye.
I didn’t even have time to start snoring good when the lights came on and a young man was wheeled in who was in obvious need of critical care. He was literally covered in blood from head to toe. His hand was nearly severed just above the wrist. He was holding onto his own hand with the other just to keep it attached. There were two bandanas tied to his arm to create a tunicate. The smell of blood was so thick in the room. Luckily, I understand more Spanish than I speak; his family described some sort of incident with two men, alcohol, and a machete. I guess machete violence is common here in Honduras. I suppose it has a higher survival rate than gun violence. They began working on this young man right there in the Emergency room.
I attempted to start praying and the only thing I could do is question for what exactly I should be praying. Eventually, I got myself together. I prayed mostly for his comfort. I could not begin to imagine what he must be feeling. I was so confused by why he had not been wheeled out on a gurney into emergency surgery.
Once they got everything cleaned up a bit it was evident that the only thing holding this man’s hand on were a few tendons, ligaments, and from what I can gather the main artery. The bones appeared florescent white in contrast to the blood and red tissue. It was as though I was watching a reenactment of real events on Discovery Channel. Andrea checked on me a few times asking if I was ok. I was fine but just in shock of what I was witnessing. Particularly with what happened next. The nurses pulled out supplies to start making a cast. What? I was beyond confused. I watched in horror as they made a partial cast to hold his hand and arm in place, wrapped it in an ace bandage, moved him to a wheel chair, and then rolled him off to wait.
Once things got cleaned up and settled down I asked Andrea what exactly happened and why things seemed so obscure. She explained that we were in a public hospital almost completely funded by the Honduran government. Patients who cannot afford medical care come here to receive nearly free treatment. They work with minimal equipment and recourses. There is no surgeon on site and no orthopedic surgeon who works from this location. I asked why the ambulance sitting out front could not take him to another hospital to receive treatment. She said that there was not a driver but hopefully there would be one in the morning. Then if the patient could afford to pay for the gas, the ambulance would transport him to another hospital. If not he would have to provide his own transportation or just wait and here and hope for the best. I could not believe what I was hearing. She also told me that they have extremely limited access to pain medication and it could only be administered in emergency situations to the most extreme patients such as the man in this story. She said events like this occur on a nightly basis.
Who is thankful to live in America? I know I am! While our system is beyond flawed it doesn’t hold a candle to what is going on in Honduras and many other nations around the world. Please keep the people of this community in your prayers. Pray for Andrea and the rest of the physicians that the situation will improve and they can provide appropriate care, which they desperately want to do. Our squad also needs your prayers. Please pray that we will remain healthy and will not have a need for hospitalization or medical care in these environments.
** I wrote this set of blogs 3 days ago. Riah and I are still here at the hospital and Rachel is getting better every day. The doctors have given a diagnosis and she is now on a proper treatment plan. Please pray that she continues to improve and will return to our team in full health very soon.
I didn’t even have time to start snoring good when the lights came on and a young man was wheeled in who was in obvious need of critical care. He was literally covered in blood from head to toe. His hand was nearly severed just above the wrist. He was holding onto his own hand with the other just to keep it attached. There were two bandanas tied to his arm to create a tunicate. The smell of blood was so thick in the room. Luckily, I understand more Spanish than I speak; his family described some sort of incident with two men, alcohol, and a machete. I guess machete violence is common here in Honduras. I suppose it has a higher survival rate than gun violence. They began working on this young man right there in the Emergency room.
I attempted to start praying and the only thing I could do is question for what exactly I should be praying. Eventually, I got myself together. I prayed mostly for his comfort. I could not begin to imagine what he must be feeling. I was so confused by why he had not been wheeled out on a gurney into emergency surgery.
Once they got everything cleaned up a bit it was evident that the only thing holding this man’s hand on were a few tendons, ligaments, and from what I can gather the main artery. The bones appeared florescent white in contrast to the blood and red tissue. It was as though I was watching a reenactment of real events on Discovery Channel. Andrea checked on me a few times asking if I was ok. I was fine but just in shock of what I was witnessing. Particularly with what happened next. The nurses pulled out supplies to start making a cast. What? I was beyond confused. I watched in horror as they made a partial cast to hold his hand and arm in place, wrapped it in an ace bandage, moved him to a wheel chair, and then rolled him off to wait.
Once things got cleaned up and settled down I asked Andrea what exactly happened and why things seemed so obscure. She explained that we were in a public hospital almost completely funded by the Honduran government. Patients who cannot afford medical care come here to receive nearly free treatment. They work with minimal equipment and recourses. There is no surgeon on site and no orthopedic surgeon who works from this location. I asked why the ambulance sitting out front could not take him to another hospital to receive treatment. She said that there was not a driver but hopefully there would be one in the morning. Then if the patient could afford to pay for the gas, the ambulance would transport him to another hospital. If not he would have to provide his own transportation or just wait and here and hope for the best. I could not believe what I was hearing. She also told me that they have extremely limited access to pain medication and it could only be administered in emergency situations to the most extreme patients such as the man in this story. She said events like this occur on a nightly basis.
Who is thankful to live in America? I know I am! While our system is beyond flawed it doesn’t hold a candle to what is going on in Honduras and many other nations around the world. Please keep the people of this community in your prayers. Pray for Andrea and the rest of the physicians that the situation will improve and they can provide appropriate care, which they desperately want to do. Our squad also needs your prayers. Please pray that we will remain healthy and will not have a need for hospitalization or medical care in these environments.
** I wrote this set of blogs 3 days ago. Riah and I are still here at the hospital and Rachel is getting better every day. The doctors have given a diagnosis and she is now on a proper treatment plan. Please pray that she continues to improve and will return to our team in full health very soon.
