We visit a village health center

Mr. Wizard and I visited a village health center with our friend Mr. Rasta. He goes there every day, including weekends, to have his dressing changed, since his tumor is now too massive for him to manage on his own. (Life Goes On is facilitating transportation for his dressing changes, and continue to do laundry for him each week.) I got to meet some of his nurses, see the clinic, and watch them change his dressing.

I was impressed.

The clinic was spacious with a large waiting room with educational materials on the walls and a TV. The exam room was well equipped. Everything was neat and very clean. And the nurses did an excellent job changing the dressing. (I have to admit they did a better job than I do, as they are not as messy I am)

I had the very pleasant task if delivering dressings to the clinic. Some kind readers of this blog, and nurses at the hospital where I worked, sent large boxes of dressing supplies for my friend. It was such a pleasure to get to give the nurses these supplies and Mr. R was very pleased also.

I am, of course, very concerned about the continuing growth of Mr. R's tumor and the noticeable weight loss we are seeing. His appetite is falling off and he is becoming weaker.

Mr. R. is Rastafari and has a deep love of all things of nature. We printed off the Hubble pictures of deep space for him and he marveled at discovering yet another source of nature's innate beauty, beyond the stars. These images spoke to his gentle soul the way they do to me, I think.

livingdominica: Thank you to those of you who went to the expense and trouble of sending supplies down to Mr. Rasta.

"Help Yo Brother"

Most of the taxis and minibuses here on Dominica have names at the top of the windshield. Some of the names are funny, like "Flash de Bobs", some are rather sweet like "Humble African". But I saw a new one today: "Help Yo Brother".

And that is exactly what we need to do right now.

Please, if you are on the island and are able to give blood, go to Princess Margaret and donate a pint for my friend Mr. Rasta. He has been having increased bleeding from his tumor and has already had two units, but he needs more. If you call Life Goes On (449-8593) they will give you his proper name so that you can tell the blood bank who you are donating to help. PMH accepts donations in the early am hours.

Mr. Rasta would be very grateful for your help, and I am sure he would like to meet you if you donate for him. We discussed today me asking you to come donate for him, and he was glad to have anyone know he is in the hospital who is willing to help.

I am sprung from sturdy peasant stock, so I gave my pint yesterday with no difficulty. Mr. Wizard, however, has some lurking aristocracy in his background and was flatly refused. He has a wee little thing with his heart that people fuss over. Humpf. Sounds like an excuse, doesn't it?

It is the tradition here for family to provide food and linens for hospitalized patients, as well as all of the little things a Big World hospital automatically provides. The Wiz and I are trying to fill the gap since our buddy doesn't have much help.

So I have been cooking vegetarian food of questionable quality, doing laundry for our friend, etc. Here, more than anywhere I have ever lived, the village really cares for a person. When those social supports are lost the effect is devastating. This is a much more interdependent world than where I lived in up North. Even my marginal vegetarian cuisine is appreciated.

I do hope some of you will give a very special gift this holiday, and go give blood for Mr. Rasta.

livingdominica: One Love. One People.
or "Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers..."
whatever truth speaks to you.

Thoughts on Suffering

I met with Mr. Rasta again yesterday, and things are getting worse for this poor man. He is very frustrated because his tumor is growing much bigger and the doctors here have said they cannot surgically intervene because of bleeding risks. As his tumor grows, he is becoming more isolated in his community. "People are afraid." Tears flow as he tells me about sitting alone in his poverty, hoping that a solution will appear.

I listen to him and try to communicate the acceptance and caring he needs as much as he needs food and medical attention. I give him a few things and agree to meet him next week at the Life Goes On house. Not much help. I feel pretty lame.

The Life Goes On house is a little haven for people living with HIV and their caregivers who may be shunned in their own communities. It is a place of support and acceptance where both body and spirit are nourished. I can only imagine what it must feel like to have this welcoming spot full of caring people when isolation and fear are ever present.

Of course funding is always an issue for Life Goes On. The bus needs fuel and insurance. The house always needs food to share with the community. Sometimes the needs here on Dominica seem like a bottomless hole where my little help is mostly futile. Just a drop in the bucket.

But, of course, if my drop is added to your drop and all the other drops, soon the bucket begins to fill.

Looking into the face of suffering is so difficult. It is easier to turn away, of course. We all have plenty of personal suffering (and it is much easier to focus on my own pain, rather than embrace the suffering of someone like Mr. Rasta). Helping can be like walking the razor's edge between the care of the self and care of others. At one time, during my hospice years, I allowed the suffering of others to swallow me whole. I am older now, and less likely to completely throw myself on that razor. But nontheless, living in a world of suffering does call to me to do something when I can. No matter how inadequate and lame it may be.

livingdominica: maybe it is time to read Ram Dass's How Can I Help again...

I meet Mr. Rasta

Tina and Harry Alexander


I got a call from Tina Alexander yesterday. She is a key person with Lifeline Ministries and also runs Island Guests Realty. She helped us find the lovely Sherbet Cottage which was our rental until until the arrival of our container made it too small. Tina's house is always open and is a hub of many activities, including helping newcomers moving to Dominica find their way. In fact, I got to meet some very nice people who have recently moved to Dominica when I visited there yesterday.

Tina needed a hand with checking on a guy whose brother had called her. This young guy has a very large tumor on his neck which at times smells bad, so we went off to see if we could help. And I got to haul out all my nursing gear, which I enjoyed.

This Rasta guy lives in a very poor house with a spongy floor. It reminded me of my days as a hospice nurse in the poorest sections of my home town. I always worry when I visit folks with shaky houses that I will go through, since I am "a woman of substance" (ok, fat). But luckily I stayed on the sturdy bits and did not fall through. Mr. Rasta did indeed have a very large tumor about half the size of his head, which I dressed for him. He had recently changed the dressing, so the smell was not too bad, but he said he had missed his doctor's appointments because the bus drivers will not let him ride on the buses due to the odor.

This is where Tina's crew can really help. They run a bus through Life Goes On, the HIV/AIDS support organization which can take Mr. Rasta to his appointments. It is available to any person on the island who has difficulty with transportation due to a medical condition. Unfortunately, funding has become an issue for this project.

This fellow is really doing a pretty good job of caring for himself otherwise. But he does not have a lot of family or community support to assist him. Again, Tina's group has a great outreach and support network providing a safety net for those in need, plus a place to rest and be welcomed when they have to go town to see the doctor.

It felt kind of good to go do something a bit nursey after a couple of years of mostly sitting at a computer. And I was struck, once again, that Dominican poverty is much the same as US poverty, just with less "stuff". There are fewer discards and cast offs here. Poor is poor all over but there are fewer resources here, making Life Goes On a critically needed service.

livingdominica: if everyone who reads this blog would send Life Goes On a few dollars, euros or pounds, many people would be helped.