Perspective

I had a bit of a rough day yesterday. I felt that I was unable to help anyone adequately. Nothing in particular seemed to precipitate it, it was just the constant knowledge that if I could take care of these patients in a hospital in the States, I would either be able to do a better job for them, or in some cases be able to do something for them. I guess I was getting tired of not having the medication I needed, and settling for a second, less effective choice, or picking through a pile of instruments looking for the "cleanest" ones so I could sew someone's facial laceration. It was causing an oppressive feeling of hopelessness and impotence that was interfering with what I was doing.

I happened to mention this to Pierre--one of the interpreters that works with us. He's affectionately referred to as Little Pierre or Petit Pierre (this is to distinguish him from Big (Grand) Pierre and Pierre Pierre), and he is an amazing kid of about 17 years old who taught himself English by getting his hands on a grammar/vocabulary book when he was 9 years old. He always has a smile, and is always trying to improve/show off his vocablulary (for example, last night there were 3 people trying to leave the hospital by walking out an alleyway that ends in a wall--Little Pierre looked at me and said "If they go that way, they will go in vain."), and is one of my favorite people to work with here.

I told him that I was feeling a bit sad that I couldn't help more people.

"This is true Dr. Frank, but you do help so many." was his response.

"But if I were taking care of them in my hospital, I could do so much more. It is very frustrating."

To this he replied, "In Creole we have a saying, 'Bay piti pa chich'. It means that just because you give a little doesn't mean you're stingy. You give what you can--no more."

These are amazing people.