This happened practically every day last week while I was hosting our ninth and last team of the summer in Cunen, our most remote clinic. Here's the deal: it's my job to run the clinic. By the time our team of docs, nurses, pharmacists, and helpers arrives at our rural sites by 8 a.m., we've got a line of around 50 people. No problem, I think. On many occasions, however, that number swells to 150 people before lunch. Just to keep everyone's adrenaline flowing, after school gets out and I've already handed out all of our patient forms for the day, we're faced with around 50-100 more "late-comers." This is when the negotiating starts.
I have to protect my doctors and team, who have told me they can see around 100 patients max/day. So it's basically my job to turn-away 50-100 sick Mayans (including children). But they don't leave without a fight. And I don't blame them. This is their only chance for maybe a year to get some adequate health care and meds. So I tell them as nicely as I can that I am SOOOOO sorry, but we simply don't have time to see them. Some take the news in stride, others aren't so kind. I try not to take it personally. They're desperate. This is what breaks my heart and makes me feel like a big jerk.
Ugh. It's like a kick in the stomach.
Muchas Gracias Steffie!
Introducing...Sabrina
Carey and I hope you're all doing well and enjoying your summers!
Love,
Jay
No comments:
Post a Comment