We got the call that he'd been in an accident after he was brought down to the hospital by some Good Samaritan. (Haiti is pretty good for having Good Samaritans.) Nick and I rushed down to the hospital and found him getting stitched up. It was not a pretty sight.
The funny thing was that his wife was there and she was begging me to take pictures of him (in misery) so that he could see them later. (It's a cultural thing, everyone also takes out their phone and takes pictures of the deceased at funerals.) I won't post anything too graphic here.
The story ends with him getting A LOT of stitches in his face and on his head. He has major contusions. I am sure he has a concussion and his eye is swollen shut like Rocky Balboa (probably because there are a dozen or more stitches on his eyelid.)
He also fractured his wrist. Surprisingly, THAT is what is causing him the most pain. Like major pain. Like my big tough grown man security guard is crying pain. It was breaking my heart. But the worst part of it is that there is very little value on bedside manner here. So he was told over and over by doctors and nurses and family members to stop crying because "he was a man not a little baby" and "crying doesn't make anything better so stop it." That kind of infuriated me. I know that there are different cultural values in different places, but I told the nurse to be quiet.
Actually this is how our conversation went. (It was in Kreyol, but I will write it in English for the sake of time.)
****
Nurse: Black. Stop crying. Crying doesn't make anything better.
Me: (looking over at her kind of sharply) Um, yeah, actually sometimes crying DOES make things better.
Nurse: Oh yeah? How does crying make things better?
Me: Have you ever had a baby?
Nurse: No.
Me: Well I have. And it hurts really bad. And crying makes it feel a little better.
Nurse: It's not the CRYING that makes it feel better, it's the PUSHING that makes it feel better.
Me: (glaring in a pretty sarcastic, un-Christian way) Well, since you HAVEN'T HAD A BABY, I'm sure you would know something like that. (Yes, I know that was sinful, I probably need to go apologize to the nurse the next time we are there.)
******
Well as we were about to leave we encountered a bit of a struggle. You see, there were major riots in Jacmel again today. Election related. People shooting guns and hurling boulders at people and cars, burning tires, pepper gas... it was a mess. And OF COURSE it was downtown near where the hospital was, so we were stuck there for some time while we waited for things to cool down.
While we were waiting, Black's pain got a lot worse. So I went in and I found the doctor. I told him that Black was still in a lot of pain and that he needed to give him something stronger than the ibuprofen they'd had him take. He told me that he was supposed to be in pain. His wrist was broken, it was normal for him to be in pain. (Which incidentally, they just wrapped up in an Ace bandage and told him to come back on Wednesday when there would be an ortho there.) So I asked him if he knew that he was in pain, why he wouldn't prescribe a stronger pain killer to help him through?
He literally told me this. "I could give him a stronger pain killer but it would make him not be able to function properly sexually." I had never heard any sort of thing so I was a bit incredulous, and I asked "Okay, so are we talking like a temporary thing, or a forever thing?" He said it was just temporary. And I said that wasn't really my business but if it was temporary, then I was pretty sure it wouldn't be a problem. The man is writhing in pain, I am pretty sure temporary impotence is the LAST thing on his mind. I beg the doctor. The doctor agrees to give him a shot of something. It starts to mellow Black out a bit. So then I push my luck and I ask if I can get him to write a prescription for some pain pills for when the shot wears off tonight. And he said, "No, I just gave him a shot. I can't give him more. I already told you that it is not good for him. If he has more, he will not be able to "service" his wife." WTH?
I about blew my stack. I did say a few things to the doctor I won't repeat here but basically left it at, "Why don't we ask Black what HIS priority is right now?" The doctor wouldn't budge.
Things cool off in town. Eddie comes and picks us up. We left with just the ibuprofen, but I was on the phone with every doctor or doctor-ish person I know to try and get the poor dude some pain killers. (Should have some tomorrow by the way...) We headed back to our house seeing the evidence of the manifestations. Huge rocks in the road, burned out cars, smoldering tires...
Once we arrive, we had to literally cut Black's shirt off since it was filthy and bloody and he needed to get cleaned up. His wife helped him bathe and then we dressed the rest of the wounds that didn't merit stitches. We got him settled in in Nia's room and his wife then left to go bathe and get some clothes before coming back to spend the night.
While she was gone, I was on "Black duty." I seriously have never felt more horrible for a human being than I did tonight. He was writhing around on the bed trying to get comfortable. He was crying, screaming at times. It was worse than watching a woman in childbirth. I was just trying to comfort him, but there's NOTHING I could do. So I held his hand and prayed with him. And when he wanted to stand up, I helped him stand. And when he wanted to sit down, I helped him sit. And when he wanted to lie down, I helped him lie down. And I counted the minutes until his wife returned because watching a grown man in that much pain was breaking my heart. He just kept muttering over and over, "Oh Mommy Gwenn. Oh Mommy Gwenn. Mwen fè mal. Mwen fè mal.." (I hurt, I hurt.) I just held him and kept saying over and over again, "M konnen, m konnen." (I know, I know.) I felt the same kind of empathy that I feel for my kids when they are sick... I just wished at that moment that I could just take on his pain for him.
Finally his wife, Kati, arrived and took over. I stayed in there a few minutes to get her acclimated with where everything was-- more sheets and pillows, clean towels, etc... But I had to make myself leave, because Black was still in so much pain and his wife just kept telling him to stop complaining. Now, let me again say here that I FULLY recognize this is a cultural thing. But it's one of those cultural things I JUST DON'T GET! HOW do you NOT comfort someone in such severe pain???
Anyway, that's where we are tonight. I am in my room wanting to go check on him but knowing it's not my place. I dipped into my stash of sleeping pills (with doctor permission OF COURSE) to help him get some rest.
I am praying for healing for him. We can't see an orthopedic doctor until Wednesday. Please pray along with me for his pain to decrease well before then...
