Helpers in Haiti

I received the following email from my good friend, Mags and I immediately asked permission to post it here.  

.................................................

My brother Craig who served a mission in Haiti 20 years ago but still speaks fluent Haitian Creole (he translates for General Conference for Haiti), went with a group of doctors that included two former mission companions. He got there Sunday to the Dominican Republic. Yesterday was his first full day in Haiti.

Margaret

1/18/10

We are in Leogane. We went to Jacmel first and landed with at least 12 - 15 other doctors from Houston with more expected soon. We had heard that there were a lot of problems in Leogane without a lot of doctors and Chuck's dreams were answered. Chuck was Branch President here 20 years ago. My best guess is that we treated around 30 people today. Each individual needed procedures - fractures, dislocations, head trauma (including a sweet little girl who is a member of the church - 8 years old - with exposed bone and infections all over her head).

There were a number of individuals whose infection was beyond our treatment level and needed immediate surgery (amputation) but we cannot do anything other than clean and give antibiotics and pain meds. Everyone we saw needed a lot of help. 

We are setup right in the LDS Chapel here in Leogane. Chuck Steve and Gary were incredible. We feel extremely fulfilled and tired. The church members here in Leogane are very helpful too. I think there are probably 200+ people living here in the chapel --right now we are in the same room where we did all the work today, it is the chapel and multi-purpose room. There are 20 kids/people watching a church movie on a TV. There are two or three families asleep in the middle of the room and there are a bunch of people milling around--that's just in here. There are at least 100+ sleeping out in the front area or parking lot. We just had dinner--they made us rice and beans with chicken sauce!!! We are going to sleep in the Sunday School room where they put up drapes and mattresses. There is a generator but Gary still doesn't know how he's going to take a shower --no running water.

Flying over Port-au-Prince and Jacmel and Carrefour and Leogane was tough. There were a lot of really pancaked houses and there were tons of people displaced. The sad thing is, it didn't look that different except the really affected houses, etc. These people have endured so much, we were all on the verge of tears so many times today--seeing the kids was especially hard. If I had time I would spend a couple hours and write about every one of the little kids that Steve and Chuck and Gary put casts on or reduced dislocations or stitched up. There was even a 3 month old that Chuck put a cast on his right ankle which was broken --this is almost one week after his house fell on him and busted it!!!

1/19/10

How can I describe what happened today...

1. Teamed up with Cubans

2. Australian Reporter

3. Guy died in Gary's arms

4. Chuck and Steve cut off a bunch of fingers

5. Really, really tired

We started off the day by deciding to set up a clinic at a location other than the LDS Chapel here in Leogane. We went over to where Chuck and Steve had been yesterday where there was a small team of Cuban doctors on their way and a lot of people needing help. We found the Cubans were there and had plans for a pretty nice setup. While Chuck and Steve got things going, Gary and I decided to run back over to where Doctors without Borders (Medicine Sans Frontiere - MSF) was working with the Japanese team. We (Gary and I) wanted to connect with someone so we could help with more acute medical situations. We needed X-ray capabilities and possibly even surgical or amputation abilities. When we got there the Japanese and the MSF were fighting and there was a news team from Australia there trying to find someone to help them get a good story about the needs so I grabbed them and we took them back over to where Chuck and Steve were setting up. They hung with us for about 3 hours or all morning. They interviewed Gary and Chuck and Steve and I and they took about 1 1/2 hrs of video - promised to send it to us!!! They wanted to get a story or two about children receiving attention in dire or difficult situations. That was pretty easy.

They took the most footage of Steve and Chuck putting a body cast (hip spica) on a little girl named Beauvais with a femur fracture. She was really in bad shape--imagine having an 8 year old daughter break her leg--her femur and then just sit around for a week. The whole operation (if you could call it that) was done on the ground or on cinder blocks with a large group of Haitians surrounding us and holding her.

We were setup in an old school with a number of buildings and rooms with old desks or chairs in them--nothing was even close to sterile let alone clean. Gary was over in another part of the compound helping to administer drugs to people in post op situation. The Cubans were performing amputations --probably 6 or 7 --and Gary helped them with pain --he is really good at that. While helping Steve and Chuck with a few things and talking with the reporter, Pete, Gary came running over to us and asked for an ambu bag or battery/hand operated suction. When I got in there he was holding a guy about 20 years old who had just had his leg amputated. Because he aspirated his own saliva and Gary had no way to get the stuff out a pretty healthy young guy died (other than just undergoing an amputation of an infected leg with sepsis without anesthesia).

Chuck is telling me about a 2-month-old baby whose mom died on top of her and she survived but was trapped for quite awhile --who knows exactly how long. The baby had some pretty bad mental issues --moving, but not very well, eyes continuously crossed and uncrossed, weak cry, etc., either hypoxic or intracranial bleeding.

Chuck and I are trying really hard to keep laughing. We both just discovered that the tears will not stop once they start -- it's a good thing he's such a goofball.

GRAPHIC STUFF - Chuck and Steve spent at least 45 minutes amputating a little boy's left pinky. It was burnt and had bone sticking out. They had to put a tourniquet on him to stop the bleeding and Chuck got some spine instruments to cut the bone.

Then they spent at least an hour helping a 60+ yr old lady whose pointer, middle and ring fingers were completely destroyed and rotten. I put a couple extra tourniquets on her because she kept bleeding. There was an extremely comical moment -- if you can get over the sick, twisted, disgusting nature of it. As Steve was taking off bandages and beginning to cut off rotten fingers, there were maggots falling out. Steve was very gentle and helped all the maggots out carefully with his scalpel - he said, "move along little doggies." After a lot of manipulation and cutting she is now much much better off and can easily do a hang ten.

Edgar's niece (Edgar is Chuck's best buddy and former 1st Counselor in Leogane Branch) was in school with 34 kids/students. She is one of two who survived. She had a bad leg and it was splinted by a local doctor. It was an open broken tibia and fibula everything was swollen and infected. She needs amputation. She is getting X-Rays tomorrow because she might have a broken femur too. Edgar is family. Chuck couldn't talk, it hurt so bad. He told Edgar and his brother that she needed her leg amputated. The little girl's Dad--Edgar's bro said to Chuck, "No problem you can cut off both legs if needed, she is alive and for that we are grateful."

Please do not be overly concerned. The good that we are doing here is amazing. We could go home today and be totally fulfilled. The needs here are overwhelming but every person helped is another opportunity to live a long, healthy life. The people have no idea that there situation is so bad and therefore for them it isn't. They are happy and tough and resilient - seriously when you see the ugly or painful situations that little small children are in and then they smile it all melts away. thanks for letting us come and thanks for dealing with the consequences - I know that Heavenly Father loves these people. I feel it every time I get one of those smiles. Your prayers are being answered.

This Blog is Helping Cure JM

Kevin of  Always Home and Uncool has asked me to post this as part of his effort to raise awareness in the blogosphere of juvenile myositis, a rare autoimmune disease his daughter was diagnosed with on this day seven years ago. The day also happens to be his wife's birthday. 

*

Our pediatrician admitted it early on.

The rash on our 2-year-old daughter's cheeks, joints and legs was something he'd never seen before.

The next doctor wouldn't admit to not knowing.

He rattled off the names of several skins conditions -- none of them seemingly worth his time or bedside manner -- then quickly prescribed antibiotics and showed us the door.

The third doctor admitted she didn't know much.

The biopsy of the chunk of skin she had removed from our daughter's knee showed signs of an "allergic reaction" even though we had ruled out every allergy source -- obvious and otherwise -- that we could.

The fourth doctor had barely closed the door behind her when, looking at the limp blonde cherub in my lap, she admitted she had seen this before. At least one too many times before.

She brought in a gaggle of med students. She pointed out each of the physical symptoms in our daughter:

The rash across her face and temples resembling the silhouette of a butterfly.

The purple-brown spots and smears, called heliotrope, on her eyelids.

The reddish alligator-like skin, known as Gottron papules, covering the knuckles of her hands.

The onset of crippling muscle weakness in her legs and upper body.

She then had an assistant bring in a handful of pages photocopied from an old medical textbook. She handed them to my wife, whose birthday it happened to be that day. 

This was her gift -- a diagnosis for her little girl.

That was seven years ago -- Oct. 2, 2002 -- the day our daughter was found to have juvenile dermatomyositis, one of a family of rare autoimmune diseases that can have debilitating and even fatal consequences when not treated quickly and effectively. 

Our daughter's first year with the disease consisted of surgical procedures, intravenous infusions, staph infections, pulmonary treatments and worry. Her muscles were too weak for her to walk or swallow solid food for several months. When not in the hospital, she sat on our living room couch, propped up by pillows so she wouldn't tip over, as medicine or nourishment dripped from a bag into her body.

Our daughter, Thing 1, Megan, now age 9, remembers little of that today when she dances or sings or plays soccer. All that remain with her are scars, six to be exact, and the array of pills she takes twice a day to help keep the disease at bay. 

What would have happened if it took us more than two months and four doctors before we lucked into someone who could piece all the symptoms together? I don't know. 

I do know that the fourth doctor, the one who brought in others to see our daughter's condition so they could easily recognize it if they ever had the misfortune to be presented with it again, was a step toward making sure other parents also never have to find out.

That, too, is my purpose today. 

It is also my birthday gift to my wife, My Love, Rhonda, for all you have done these past seven years to make others aware of juvenile myositis diseases and help find a cure for them once and for all.

To read more about children and families affected by juvenile myositis diseases, visit Cure JM Foundation at www.curejm.org.

To make a tax-deductible donation toward JM research, go to www.firstgiving.com/rhondaandkevinmckeever or www.curejm.com/team/donations.htm. 

My girl'z got guts!

Remember my super model daughter?  

Well she had a room.  In Hawaii.

And this is how I will always remember it.











I took these pictures last Sunday before she left on a jet plane to fly away to Utah.  

Forever.

This ceiling fan was the only thing I enjoyed trashing IMMENSELY, since it was really good at giving us an earful of noise, but not so good at giving us any AIR FLOW.

Ba Bye celing fan.

"Mom, you're so emotional!" My daughter said as we were pulling out of the driveway to take her to the airport. 

Good thing she didn't see me taking all these pictures.  

Or sitting on her bed for the last time watching her sleep earlier that morning. 

"Bye house," she said as we pulled out of the driveway. 

"Bye townhouses," she said as we drove down the street. 

"Bye BYU." 

"Bye Laie." 

"Bye beach." 

That's when I turned around and smacked her upside the head.  And she stopped. 

This is my daughter's room now.

SNIFF!

I miss my daughter!!!!

And her room!!!! 

SNIFF! 

(I know families are forever, but my heart aches for anyone who loses a child too soon.)

One of the last nights she was here I sprawled out on her bed with her and did something we've never done together before.  Watched CSI.  Or was it Bones.  Or was it Cold Case?  Or L.A. Ink? I can't remember.  I don't love any of those shows.  But we were together.  On her bed.  In her room.  For the last time. 

My hub kept calling for me to come look at some house on the internet, but I just ignored him, because when you're about to finish a really good book, you want to savor the ending.  Even if ends with CSI. 

My daughter left for Utah a week before us so she could start practicing with her new High School soccer team.

She started practicing 3 hours after she arrived, (which wasn't easy because we don't do red blood cells in Hawaii.)  

And then she played in her first varsity game the next day.  

And we missed it. 

Because we're still in Hawaii stuffing the last 10 years into polite little boxes.  

We talk every day and I ask her how she's doing. 

"I can't breathe, but I'm fine," she says.   

Not only is she a super model she's a super trooper.  I can't imagine at 14 years old--moving away, without your fam, a new high school, a team of strangers,  3 hour practices every day.  

And NO AIR! 

At least she's got GUTS! 

LY daughter of mine!  

Thinking of you (and all your friends).









And thinking of you (and all your soccer girlz).






Can't wait to see you next week!

The Five People We Meet in Heaven

Reading this book is a great way to cope with a Christmas in Kauai with the in-laws. 

Watching the movie is an equally great way to cope with PVBD (post vacation boredom and depression).  

Needless to say I watched the movie this past week and found myself scribbling down all the movie wisdom.  

The premise is intriguing--an 83 year old man named Eddie, who spent his life doing maintenance at an amusement park called Ruby Pier, is killed while pushing a little girl out of the way of a falling carnival ride.  

At the time of his death Eddie was disappointed with life.  He was a soldier who was unable to get the war out of his head.  He resented his abusive father and blamed him for his own wasted life being stuck as a maintenance man.   And finally he lost the love of his life to early to a fatal illness.

In the after life he is told that there are five people waiting to meet him.  Each will illuminate something for him in Heaven that he didn't understand on Earth.  

All of the people waiting to meet and teach him have either been effected by him somehow or vice versa. Three of them are strangers and he is responsible for two of their deaths.

When he first arrives in heaven he is unable to talk so he can better listen.

These are the lesson Eddie learns as he closes his mouth and opens his mind:  

1.  There are no random acts. 

2.  We are all connected. 

3.  No life is a waste.

4.   Life has to end, but love doesn't. 

5.  Hatred is a curved blade--the harm we do to others we also do to ourselves. 

6.  Sometimes when you think you're losing something you're really just passing it on to someone else. 

7.  Sacrifice isn't something to be ashamed of, it's something to be proud of. 

8.  Strangers are just family we have yet to come to know. 

9.  Everyone deserves to be forgiven.

After Eddie learns these lessons he is taken to Ruby Pier where he is greeted by all the people he protected and kept safe simply by maintaining the park and preventing accidents. Their children were there too, and their children's children.  

What a sweet realization.  

It's the very reason I love the finale of the musical Les Miserables so much. Every time I see it I get a lump in my throat when Jean Val Jean dies and is greeted by all the grateful people he effected. 

During the daily grind of life it's hard to remember our significance in the lives of others.   It's so easy to feel isolated and alone and forget that each life effects the other,  and the other effects the next.  

And the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.  

Kinda makes me want to pour myself a cup of hot chocolate and watch It's a Wonderful Life.  

Earn it!

Tonight, while channel surfing, we caught the last 10 minutes of Saving Private Ryan--the part where Captain Miller dies just after he whispers "earn it" in Private Ryan's ear.  

So poignant, that scene.  Think about it.  There's a big war going on and a group of men risk everything and face extreme dangers to save one private. 

One single man.

How many men died to complete the mission?  I can't remember.  And all just so one man can return home safely.  Was it worth it?   

I love that Private Ryan appreciates the sacrifice and spends his life trying to earn it. 

It makes me wonder how much more I would appreciate and accomplish if I remembered on a daily basis all those who have made sacrifices on my behalf.

I can't help but think of the great sacrifice our Savior made so that I might live and return home safely.  Imagine what would life be like if I was humble and mindful enough to acknowledge that sacrifice by working diligently to earn it.

A New Years Prayer

I have learned that once in a while people need to know you're human.  

People, I am definitely human.

In fact today I was way too human. It was a painful emotional day simply because I cleaned out and organized all of my kids past photos and awards and school projects.

Oh, how each little letter and drawing and expression on their sweet faces pricks at my heart. I miss those cute babies of mine sooooooo much. I wish I could go back and hold on to each moment--stop them from slipping away like water through a net.

It's also difficult to remember some of the hard times. It's especially hard to see photos of myself right after my twins were born.  (They were born at 29 weeks and spent 6 weeks in the NICU). 

I found the cutest little note in my daughters stuff that made me cry. It must have been written when she was in her early elementary school years. It read:

Oh Heavenly Father, please help my mommy. She's so frustradid. Thanks. You are the best. I love you.

I also came across this prayer I gave out with a homemade Christmas angel the year after my twins were born.  I gave this to all the people who looked after me and my family during the challenging weeks they were in the hospital. 

A New Years Prayer

Dear Lord,

Please give me a few friends who understand me,

and yet remain my friends.

A work to do which has real value, without which

the world would feel the poorer.

A mind unafraid to travel, even though the trail be not blazed.

An understanding heart and a sense of humor.

Time for quiet, silent mediations.

A feeling of the presence of God.

And the patience to wait for the coming of these things

with the wisdom to know them when they come.

--W.R. Hunt.

What more could anyone ask for?

A guest post from my twelve year old

My twelve year old son is writing his autobiography for his English class. This is the son who I call the other pea in my pod (except he's annoying and I'm not). See what I mean in this post and don't forget this hilarious post.

Every day he comes home from school and pumps out these cute stories about his life. I'm going to post the little blurb he wrote today summarizing his elementary school years. See if you can't see the little dummy inside him emerging already.

(I bleeped out the teacher name on purpose, for obvious reasons):

The elementary school I attended was Laie Elementary. I went there for all seven years. Kindergarten-sixth grade. Everything was running smoothly. I was having so much fun having nap time all day. Same thing in 1st grade. But then in 2nd grade it all happened. I had Ms. _______. Ms. _______ was good. It wasn’t her. It was SFA. SFA was a reading program. Dude! It was so boring! Crazy boring. Reading all the gayest books for like 3 hours. I hated it and I had to go through it for like 5 years.

That’s not all that happened in 2nd grade. This was a scary memory. It started on the last day of school. We were having a party and I needed to go. The bathroom I went to was a small bathroom. Only 1 toilet. So I walked in, shut the door and did my business. I washed my hands and tried to open the door. It was locked! So I’m stuck in the bathroom on the last day of school. I’m in there for about an hour.

After the first twenty minutes it was getting hot. There were no windows. I seriously thought I was going to die. I started yelling and pounding on the door. Finally, after about 30 more minutes, my best friend Kameron saved me. My teacher must have finally noticed I was missing. I was so sweaty when I got back to class that everyone was fanning me off with their text books.

I do have some good memories of Elementary school. I loved my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Ah Sue. She was really funny. I also like Mrs. Aluli, my 5th grade teacher and Mrs. Tuliloa, my 6th grade teacher.

The best part of Elementary school was the field trips. I really enjoyed camp Erdman in 3rd grade. Hearing those scary stories gave me nightmares for like a week. Another great field trip was our Big Island trip. It was really fun hanging out with my friends, but the best part was learning amazing stuff about Hawaii. In 5th grade we got to sleep over on the U.S.S. Missouri. It was different to sleep in a ship. It was a really interesting field trip. My last, but not least, favorite field trip was box car racing. We drove a little mini go carts racing our friends. You have to admit that’s pretty awesome.

Those are some of my good memories that happened in my elementary years. But, all in all, I really loved elementary.