I've never cared about this meaningless holiday but today I'm wishing I could give thanks to the Indians we slaughtered for the US of A with everyone else. Ah 4 weeks and counting, I know I shouldn't be because I am sitting on the roof under a cloudless sky with the sun on my shoulders, but I cant help but count.
So it seems that things aren't working out quite as I had hoped. Since last week we've been playing with the medicine, measuring doses, finding the perfect sized capsules and finally due to doc's medical perfectionism he deemed our scale unworthy. The scale we need is 2,000 quetzales around 265 dollars, which is big money here. The doc is waiting on half of Guatemala to pay him back for medical services he let slide and loans he gave out, now he's broke and we cant move forward until we have that scale. I've offered to pay just to get things moving, but he refused. I cant blame him, but its frustrating. I guess that's the thing with small businesses, if you don't have big money behind you the process is painstakingly long.
Being somewhat captive in our gated community is taking it's toll-too much time to think. I'm ready to take my chances in the big bad city, after all I know how to shoot now-kidding mom.
Tomorrow Doc is giving Jeraldo and I a First Aid and CPR lesson. We're getting the dummy and all today. I've been looking forward to it, I know its necessary regardless of what I pursue.
I have a sneaking feeling that we aren't going to do the treatments before I leave. It's got me over analyzing the point of this trip and what I've accomplished. I need to come to terms with the possibility of that and not weigh everything on it happening. I know I've gained a lot of medical knowledge and I better understand how much it takes to start up an ibo clinic, but it would be nice to taste the fruits of our labor. If I've chosen this vagabond life for myself I need to loosen my control grasp and go somewhere knowing full well that things wont be how I day dream they will, not everything will progress my ibogaine studies but it will be something new to remember. I still cant help but weigh what its worth....I better at least get a tan ; )
I'm sure these feelings will pass, maybe its just this damn holiday and the consequence of trying to change what our culture has imprinted in my brain as traditional.
Eat an extra piece of pie for me, happy bird murdering! With that;
http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=sarah+palin+tirkey+pardon&hl=en&emb=0&aq=o#q=sarah%20palin%20turkey%20pardon%20uncensored&hl=en&emb=0
Oh Sarah, how I miss seeing you in the press.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Brrrrrr!
1. Doc's office
2. Michella y Lady
3. Michella y me
4. Me
5. Doc
It's COLD! I thought being this close to the equator would give me a tropical winter, but because Guatemala is the highland of a valley, no such luck. The coldest it gets is around 50, which makes me sound like a whiner, but every home and building is constructed in an open air style- where there should be a door there is instead the complete lack of a wall, so you've got got goosebumps from sun down to sun up.
The past couple of days have been tough at times. The whole thing is on the horizon, but for now we're waiting on endless formalities and money issues to get resolved before we start. The down time has occasionally provoked homesickness. I just crave social interaction with people my own age. Hanging out with only middle aged men for the past 18 days takes it's toll. I'm trying to remind myself that we're almost there and I'll soon be too busy to remember all of that.
I spent the ENTIRE day yesterday on the website outline. Ugh. The doc spent the entire night before working and never slept, so he was an unproductive zombie that day, and I ended up doing it all on my own. It didn't help my attitude any, he could tell so he promised we'd do something fun that night.
We went out to Cachasa last night once we finished the outline. It's a great acoustic music lounge converted from a barn. They have various instruments on the stage, so whoever knows a song can get up and play for the small crowd. The doc got up and played some guitar while a younger guy came up and sang these beautiful Spanish ballads. It was so much fun. I finally had a drink for the first time since I left (might've been the driest I've been since I was 14-not proud of that). The only local Guatemalan beer is Gallo (Rooster) it's a really good lager. After 3 I was toasty (I should take dry spells more often). I felt a little guilty drinking in front of the doc, but he insisted it didn't bother him.
I talked to this girl Kris for a long time. Her dad is Guatemalan and her mom is from Geneva, NY! Her mom came here as an exchange student and never left. I told her I was from Schenectady and she was like "Oh my God, I LOVED Schenectady! It was such a quaint city" Her 2 brothers live in Albany, because they have dual citizenship. I never for a million years thought I'd meet someone in Guat city that had any idea what Schenectady was. Kris introduced me to all the bar staff (who were also the performers) and we had a great time together.
She shed some light on why I've been kept under such air-tight security wraps. I told her how I feel like I haven't seen the city because the doc keeps telling me it's unsafe to do anything on my own. She explained that it really was for my own good, he isn't exaggerating, a friend of hers was shot in the head and robbed from his car in a bad part of town 3 days ago. She was saying that all too often Americans like me come to Guat and over look the fact that it's a 3rd world country. She said there still is a lot to see and it's a beautiful place but just not to do it alone. It did help me see better where the doc was coming from. It was so refreshing to hang with her and the staff though, I got her info so hopefully I'll see her again.
Speaking of security, I finally learned to shoot! We took a break from work a couple days ago and I got my shooting lesson in the garden. It's a 45mm with a buffer built in to soften the kick back-even so that thing kicked my ass. We put targets on the sand and he showed me how to stand, aim and safety precautions. When you shoot it seems like everything goes into slow motion from the power of the sound and the kick back, my ears were ringing for the whole day. It was awesome. I keep asking him to bring me to a range now.
It's funny how in the middle of the afternoon your neighbors can hear you shoot off rounds and think nothing of it, one of the perks of Guatemala. That and the disregard for picking up dog shit, I love it. I was walking Lady a couple days ago and I bent down to bag her business. Doc and Marta looked at me like I was crazy and started cracking up, "What are jyou going to do with that?" She asked me, and they laughed about it for the rest of the day.
The past couple of days have been tough at times. The whole thing is on the horizon, but for now we're waiting on endless formalities and money issues to get resolved before we start. The down time has occasionally provoked homesickness. I just crave social interaction with people my own age. Hanging out with only middle aged men for the past 18 days takes it's toll. I'm trying to remind myself that we're almost there and I'll soon be too busy to remember all of that.
I spent the ENTIRE day yesterday on the website outline. Ugh. The doc spent the entire night before working and never slept, so he was an unproductive zombie that day, and I ended up doing it all on my own. It didn't help my attitude any, he could tell so he promised we'd do something fun that night.
We went out to Cachasa last night once we finished the outline. It's a great acoustic music lounge converted from a barn. They have various instruments on the stage, so whoever knows a song can get up and play for the small crowd. The doc got up and played some guitar while a younger guy came up and sang these beautiful Spanish ballads. It was so much fun. I finally had a drink for the first time since I left (might've been the driest I've been since I was 14-not proud of that). The only local Guatemalan beer is Gallo (Rooster) it's a really good lager. After 3 I was toasty (I should take dry spells more often). I felt a little guilty drinking in front of the doc, but he insisted it didn't bother him.
I talked to this girl Kris for a long time. Her dad is Guatemalan and her mom is from Geneva, NY! Her mom came here as an exchange student and never left. I told her I was from Schenectady and she was like "Oh my God, I LOVED Schenectady! It was such a quaint city" Her 2 brothers live in Albany, because they have dual citizenship. I never for a million years thought I'd meet someone in Guat city that had any idea what Schenectady was. Kris introduced me to all the bar staff (who were also the performers) and we had a great time together.
She shed some light on why I've been kept under such air-tight security wraps. I told her how I feel like I haven't seen the city because the doc keeps telling me it's unsafe to do anything on my own. She explained that it really was for my own good, he isn't exaggerating, a friend of hers was shot in the head and robbed from his car in a bad part of town 3 days ago. She was saying that all too often Americans like me come to Guat and over look the fact that it's a 3rd world country. She said there still is a lot to see and it's a beautiful place but just not to do it alone. It did help me see better where the doc was coming from. It was so refreshing to hang with her and the staff though, I got her info so hopefully I'll see her again.
Speaking of security, I finally learned to shoot! We took a break from work a couple days ago and I got my shooting lesson in the garden. It's a 45mm with a buffer built in to soften the kick back-even so that thing kicked my ass. We put targets on the sand and he showed me how to stand, aim and safety precautions. When you shoot it seems like everything goes into slow motion from the power of the sound and the kick back, my ears were ringing for the whole day. It was awesome. I keep asking him to bring me to a range now.
It's funny how in the middle of the afternoon your neighbors can hear you shoot off rounds and think nothing of it, one of the perks of Guatemala. That and the disregard for picking up dog shit, I love it. I was walking Lady a couple days ago and I bent down to bag her business. Doc and Marta looked at me like I was crazy and started cracking up, "What are jyou going to do with that?" She asked me, and they laughed about it for the rest of the day.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
It's Been a Hard Day's Night...
1. Volcano over Antigua2. Me on the cathederal steps
3. Jesus on his deathbed inside the cathederal
4. Inside the cathederal
5. The main cathederal in Antigua
The ibo arrival lit a flame under our asses. Before we do the staff sessions we need to get a few things in order, so we've spent the day trying to organize (and by that I mean me making lists while the doc plays with and measures the medicine and capsules, in turn I chastise him for his lack of focus). We need to get all emergency medical materials and meds ready at the house, as well as stocking it with food and basic living necessities.
We had a meeting with the "advertising head" he's doc's long time friend Sergio who is a photographer/designer. We gave him a tour of the house and discussed all the things we need to put together for him; an outline of the web site- which means we need to put together a mission statement, logo, put into words the vision doc has for its themes, hotel/tourist info for clients from outside Guat. Also we need to target a few hotels and try to work out a deal/partnership with them-Maybe this wkend, which will be a great excuse to sight see : ) Hopefully we can finish all of the above before next wk so we can start doc's session. It feels good to finally have the pressure on.
We had a little meeting with a rep. from "Medpharma" to propose our idea and try and work out a deal with them; If they give us their meds for free to treat our patients for PAW (post acute withdrawal) syndrome, we'll use their products exclusively, which will provide advertising for them, plus we're a good cause so it'll give them charity cred. Doc wasn't very optimistic going into it because of previous dealings with typically slimy, greedy pharmaceutical companies.
But the rep. was surprisingly interested in our treatment and had a lot of questions about PAW, he even requested docs PAW presentation and documents via email. He wasn't what I expected at all, he had a great concern for our cause and agreed that the alcohol problem here is appalling and unrecognized. He's going to run it over with the higher ups and hopefully get back to us.
As soon as the rep. was out the door, the doc's next patient Delmi, was on her way in. Delmi has been coming to the doc for therapy sessions for a long while. He has a strange sort of approach to therapy that I'm not completely sure I agree with yet- it's very Freudian. He hooks up a very small IV to a vein just below the patients knuckle and gives them a very small doses of a barbiturate and a benzodiazepine, which creates a slightly sedative effect, almost a hypnosis state where the subconscious is easily accessed. He films the entire session and has the patient speak about their problems and feelings for anywhere from an hour to 3 hrs, until the patient falls asleep for a short while. During the next session they review the video and he tells me the patients are typically shocked at what they've said during the treatment, they are able to see what their issues are without the veil of denial.
He's been describing these sessions to me for a while and I've watched some of Delmi's sessions on dvd. Tonight I got to sit in on it. Honestly it was pretty anti-climactic, mostly because I couldn't understand what she was saying. Delmi is a really sweet middle-aged mom. She suffers from low self-esteem due to her husbands constant infidelity and depression. I tried very hard to understand what was happening, but my attention span was doing cartwheels as I sat there for 2 hours trying to get it to sit still and translate. Eventually she fell asleep and doc answered my questions and we discussed his approach until her drowsiness wore off.
I'm not sure if I completely agree with the use of sedatives to access the subconscious, but he claims to have made tremendous progress with Delmi and many other patients this way. It'll be interesting to see her reaction on Saturday, where we'll review the dvd. It seems to me kind of like express thearapy, you dont have to get comfortable with a therapist for months before delving into the meaty issues. I'm wondering though if there is more of a benefit to having a therapy break through while conscious as opposed to sedated, maybe she'll have a concious break through while watching the dvd. I guess we'll see. Till then there is much work to be done..
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
La Vida Bella
1. The catherderal at night.
2. Shrine
3. Antigua
4. Antigua
5. Doc in Antigua
Monday morning-Connie's a no show, which means she's too drunk to get herself here. Marta and doc are pretty pissed and I cant stop thinking about Michella, what does she do all day when Connie is like this? She didn't show up today either.
We went to visit Mynor at Nueva Luz- zona 4 today to see how he's feeling and sneak him in some contraband cookies and juice, I thought it'd be necessary to break the monotony of cow spleen and lung 3x a day. Also the doc wanted to go to the house stocked with pills and creams to provide whatever medical treatment we could.
We walked in and the patients yelled "Hola doctora!" as soon as they saw us, they jumped out of their chairs to greet us with hugs, hand shakes and kisses. It was mayhem for the first 5 minutes, everyone wanted our attention-with every greeting we got a rundown on what was infected or aching that week. My very young admirer, Julio, lit up when he saw us and spoke his best English to let me know he was so happy we came. He didn't leave my side for the rest of the time, making sure everyone kept their distance. So cute.
We interrupted their dinner of sopa del dinosaurio or dinosaur soup-which I learned today is made out of the things the local butcher was going to throw away that day, mixed into a soup. Kind of like animal remains surprise. Yum. The smell was worse than the thought of it.
We finally found Mynor, who I didn't recognize at all. He was so puffy that he looked like a completely different person and seemed delirious. He's at the peak of the detox process, so I'm sure he felt 100 x worse than he looked. He started crying as he hugged us. I cant believe a little over a week ago he was our guide to these houses that we spent all day talking and laughing with.
The detox process at the Nueva Luz houses are pretty simple; Because you obviously cant quit alcohol cold turkey without the chance of death, they give the patients rubbing alcohol in decreasing quantities. So day one you get a pint glass of rubbing alcohol, which makes you vomit profusely because of the nausea inducing agent that is put in rubbing alcohol to dissuade people from drinking it, however your withdrawal symptoms are soothed since the alcohol is in your system. And so this goes until you are weaned off. Awful. So when I hugged Mynor the smell of him gave me the chills you get when you smell vodka the morning of a hang over.
We spent the rest of the time trying to diagnose ailments and handing out pills relieving pain, high blood pressure, heartburn and different creams for psoriasis, rashes and infected cuts. This time there were 4 guys crammed into the tiny jail cell (which I learned is punishment for the people in the worst of the detox process that act out).
One of the men that helps run the house asked Dr. Lopez if I would counsel him in dealing with the murder of his daughter. Dr. Lopez gave him his card and told him to make an appointment with us and Dr. Fitzsimmons would be happy to. Of course he didn't ask or let me know until we got home.
Once we got back and he informed me and I thought he was joking. I said, "Right, but really you'll do the counseling and I'll interject a few things here and there" He said casually "No, I wont be there." I stopped him "Wait wait wait, he doesn't even speak English, how am I supposed to communicate with him?" he laughed and said "Not my problem. My dear jyou need to learn to speak without de words".
Now I am aware of how lucky I am to be getting intense on the job training but my patients was wearing very thin yesterday, I'd really like to blame it on the moon. Volunteering me for grief counseling, which I don't know the first thing about, was the last straw. Maybe it's all the small things that add up when you spend an inordinate amount of time with one person, but I couldn't stop grinding my teeth out of frustration with him.
To begin with it's the arrogance of being my instructor that he harbors, blindly throwing me into situations that I don't have the knowledge or language skills to handle. It's what makes him a great teacher and a big pain in my ass. Then its the fact that we cant do the most simple things without it engulfing the rest of our day, which throws away the schedule I make for us of things we need to get done. Always on a quick errand we run into someone he knows with a sick family member, and there we sit for an hour as they tell their story-then it's "oops the post office just closed" so there goes our day. I've learned to add an hour or 3 onto every time estimate he gives. But then again I know that its another attribute that makes him a great doctor, his desire to help everyone and give everyone his full attention all the time. Then the chain smoking...ok now I'm just bitching.
I think what's getting to me the most is that I have no way to be independent here. There's no public transportation safe enough for me to take on my own, there's nowhere close enough to walk to besides the little park, and I cant shop for my own food so I eat what the fam eats, I actually cant even serve myself because Marta serves us and that's just how it is. It's all little things, I just need to adjust to doing things with the clan.
For the first time we got into somewhat of an argument. When he told me about the patient I would counsel I told him I felt like I'd be cheating the patient because he wouldn't walk away with anything useful because I'm NOT a certified counselor OR a Doctor-even though we've said it so many times that we may begin to believe it. I got worked up and told him I didn't think it was fair to introduce me as a Dr.- to me or the people that I meet, because they are looking to me for legit answers and I feel like I'll be letting their hopes down with laymen advise that they could get from anyone.
Once I was done ranting he of course responded to me with a story; When Mother Teresa first went to Haiti she met a a man that asked her to help save a woman dying of leprosy. She told him that she would do all that she had in her power. When she saw the woman, she was laying on the side of the street among litter, very close to death. Teresa sat very close to the woman. She took her hand and looked into her eyes and said "I love you." The woman responded "What?" Teresa repeated "I love you" "But How can you love me? My own family has abandoned me, how can you-a stranger, love me?" Teresa shrugged her shoulders and said "I love you, with every fiber of my soul and being." The woman smiled and died shortly after. Then the Dr. said "Did Mother Teresa have medical degree? Did she have protocol to follow in de death counseling?" ...Ok I got it.
He said "Chreestine, dthese patients see hope when dthey look at jyou. Just knowing that a Dr. from US care enough to spoke wit dthem is enough. There are 3 basic things that a good counselor can does: 1st Presence, being present when de patient is telling to you their problem. 2nd humanity, treating them wit human kindness and compassion and 3rd listening ability. Now a good counselor has at least 2 of these. jYou possess all 3 of dthese, I know just from de time I spend wit you telling to you my stories. I can now see that in our work we must next break these barriers you created, which tells jyou that jyou arent a dr. or a counselor or anything else we choose to be de next day. jYou must learn to believe dat jyou are whatever jyou decide to be."
And how do you respond to that? I didn't, just "You're right" then I went to my room.
I had 2 more movies that were "assigned" earlier in the day. La Vida Bella (Life is Beautiful) was the 1st, in Italian with subtitles. This movie was incredible and you need to rent it, that's all I can say. Some how it fit in perfectly with the theme of the earlier discussion. How does he do that?
Next was What the bleep do we know? "A mind-jarring blend of Quantum Physics, spirituality, neurology and evolutionary thought." Seriously. This documentary changed how I thought for a full day after I saw it. Watch it for free here: http://moviesfoundonline.com/what_the_bleep_do_we_know.php
This morning as Lady and I were on our way out for our walk...The ibo arrived! Doc and I celebrated. It's pretty crazy; how if one little thing works out, it has the power to wipe clear all of the problems you've staked up against yourself.
2. Shrine
3. Antigua
4. Antigua
5. Doc in Antigua
Monday morning-Connie's a no show, which means she's too drunk to get herself here. Marta and doc are pretty pissed and I cant stop thinking about Michella, what does she do all day when Connie is like this? She didn't show up today either.
We went to visit Mynor at Nueva Luz- zona 4 today to see how he's feeling and sneak him in some contraband cookies and juice, I thought it'd be necessary to break the monotony of cow spleen and lung 3x a day. Also the doc wanted to go to the house stocked with pills and creams to provide whatever medical treatment we could.
We walked in and the patients yelled "Hola doctora!" as soon as they saw us, they jumped out of their chairs to greet us with hugs, hand shakes and kisses. It was mayhem for the first 5 minutes, everyone wanted our attention-with every greeting we got a rundown on what was infected or aching that week. My very young admirer, Julio, lit up when he saw us and spoke his best English to let me know he was so happy we came. He didn't leave my side for the rest of the time, making sure everyone kept their distance. So cute.
We interrupted their dinner of sopa del dinosaurio or dinosaur soup-which I learned today is made out of the things the local butcher was going to throw away that day, mixed into a soup. Kind of like animal remains surprise. Yum. The smell was worse than the thought of it.
We finally found Mynor, who I didn't recognize at all. He was so puffy that he looked like a completely different person and seemed delirious. He's at the peak of the detox process, so I'm sure he felt 100 x worse than he looked. He started crying as he hugged us. I cant believe a little over a week ago he was our guide to these houses that we spent all day talking and laughing with.
The detox process at the Nueva Luz houses are pretty simple; Because you obviously cant quit alcohol cold turkey without the chance of death, they give the patients rubbing alcohol in decreasing quantities. So day one you get a pint glass of rubbing alcohol, which makes you vomit profusely because of the nausea inducing agent that is put in rubbing alcohol to dissuade people from drinking it, however your withdrawal symptoms are soothed since the alcohol is in your system. And so this goes until you are weaned off. Awful. So when I hugged Mynor the smell of him gave me the chills you get when you smell vodka the morning of a hang over.
We spent the rest of the time trying to diagnose ailments and handing out pills relieving pain, high blood pressure, heartburn and different creams for psoriasis, rashes and infected cuts. This time there were 4 guys crammed into the tiny jail cell (which I learned is punishment for the people in the worst of the detox process that act out).
One of the men that helps run the house asked Dr. Lopez if I would counsel him in dealing with the murder of his daughter. Dr. Lopez gave him his card and told him to make an appointment with us and Dr. Fitzsimmons would be happy to. Of course he didn't ask or let me know until we got home.
Once we got back and he informed me and I thought he was joking. I said, "Right, but really you'll do the counseling and I'll interject a few things here and there" He said casually "No, I wont be there." I stopped him "Wait wait wait, he doesn't even speak English, how am I supposed to communicate with him?" he laughed and said "Not my problem. My dear jyou need to learn to speak without de words".
Now I am aware of how lucky I am to be getting intense on the job training but my patients was wearing very thin yesterday, I'd really like to blame it on the moon. Volunteering me for grief counseling, which I don't know the first thing about, was the last straw. Maybe it's all the small things that add up when you spend an inordinate amount of time with one person, but I couldn't stop grinding my teeth out of frustration with him.
To begin with it's the arrogance of being my instructor that he harbors, blindly throwing me into situations that I don't have the knowledge or language skills to handle. It's what makes him a great teacher and a big pain in my ass. Then its the fact that we cant do the most simple things without it engulfing the rest of our day, which throws away the schedule I make for us of things we need to get done. Always on a quick errand we run into someone he knows with a sick family member, and there we sit for an hour as they tell their story-then it's "oops the post office just closed" so there goes our day. I've learned to add an hour or 3 onto every time estimate he gives. But then again I know that its another attribute that makes him a great doctor, his desire to help everyone and give everyone his full attention all the time. Then the chain smoking...ok now I'm just bitching.
I think what's getting to me the most is that I have no way to be independent here. There's no public transportation safe enough for me to take on my own, there's nowhere close enough to walk to besides the little park, and I cant shop for my own food so I eat what the fam eats, I actually cant even serve myself because Marta serves us and that's just how it is. It's all little things, I just need to adjust to doing things with the clan.
For the first time we got into somewhat of an argument. When he told me about the patient I would counsel I told him I felt like I'd be cheating the patient because he wouldn't walk away with anything useful because I'm NOT a certified counselor OR a Doctor-even though we've said it so many times that we may begin to believe it. I got worked up and told him I didn't think it was fair to introduce me as a Dr.- to me or the people that I meet, because they are looking to me for legit answers and I feel like I'll be letting their hopes down with laymen advise that they could get from anyone.
Once I was done ranting he of course responded to me with a story; When Mother Teresa first went to Haiti she met a a man that asked her to help save a woman dying of leprosy. She told him that she would do all that she had in her power. When she saw the woman, she was laying on the side of the street among litter, very close to death. Teresa sat very close to the woman. She took her hand and looked into her eyes and said "I love you." The woman responded "What?" Teresa repeated "I love you" "But How can you love me? My own family has abandoned me, how can you-a stranger, love me?" Teresa shrugged her shoulders and said "I love you, with every fiber of my soul and being." The woman smiled and died shortly after. Then the Dr. said "Did Mother Teresa have medical degree? Did she have protocol to follow in de death counseling?" ...Ok I got it.
He said "Chreestine, dthese patients see hope when dthey look at jyou. Just knowing that a Dr. from US care enough to spoke wit dthem is enough. There are 3 basic things that a good counselor can does: 1st Presence, being present when de patient is telling to you their problem. 2nd humanity, treating them wit human kindness and compassion and 3rd listening ability. Now a good counselor has at least 2 of these. jYou possess all 3 of dthese, I know just from de time I spend wit you telling to you my stories. I can now see that in our work we must next break these barriers you created, which tells jyou that jyou arent a dr. or a counselor or anything else we choose to be de next day. jYou must learn to believe dat jyou are whatever jyou decide to be."
And how do you respond to that? I didn't, just "You're right" then I went to my room.
I had 2 more movies that were "assigned" earlier in the day. La Vida Bella (Life is Beautiful) was the 1st, in Italian with subtitles. This movie was incredible and you need to rent it, that's all I can say. Some how it fit in perfectly with the theme of the earlier discussion. How does he do that?
Next was What the bleep do we know? "A mind-jarring blend of Quantum Physics, spirituality, neurology and evolutionary thought." Seriously. This documentary changed how I thought for a full day after I saw it. Watch it for free here: http://moviesfoundonline.com/what_the_bleep_do_we_know.php
This morning as Lady and I were on our way out for our walk...The ibo arrived! Doc and I celebrated. It's pretty crazy; how if one little thing works out, it has the power to wipe clear all of the problems you've staked up against yourself.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Do I owe you something for this?
This evening we had a patient to the house. Earlier doc informed me that I would be putting into practice all the things I learned a few days ago. I felt resistance make waves in my stomach, but nodded and said ¨Deal, but I´m telling you I think it´d be a severe misjudgment if you have me draw a blood sample today¨ He laughed and agreed with me, thank God.
It was Mynor´s 63 yr old father, Reftaly. He´s suffering from cirrhosis of the liver due to 41 yrs of alcoholism and on top of that diabetes. He came today because he´s experiencing severe pain due to liquid that is collecting in his abdomen. He´s come to Doc and I for a prescription to relieve the pain. He´s a very faint, tiny man who´s voice is a mere whisper reminiscent of the Godfather, however his liver and stomach are so swollen with liquid its the largest part of him.
He arrived with an entourage; His wife, middle aged daughter and 2 grandchildren about 16 and 11. They all walked him in doc´s office and waited until he was finished. I cant help but laugh at the thought of the entire family gathering to accompany grandpa to a routine Dr appointment in America. It´s the perfect example of how much of a clan mentality they have with family here. It helps me understand why Doc is always talking about the loneliness he suffers. To be honest I thought he was being kind of a baby about it, a lot of people live by themselves, and anyway he has his Aunt, Santos and Martine. Now I understand that a typical Central American home is overflowing with family, children, noise and they do everything together.
The doc´s exams are painfully thorough. He pretty much had the patient and his wife tell his medical life story up until this point for the 1st 45 mins before even taking his blood pressure. I tried and tried over and over to focus and try to translate, but my mind kept running away thinking mostly about Heather.
Finally the exam began and Dr. Fitzsimmons measured his blood pressure. I wrapped the velcro around as tight as I could but it still hung loose on his tiny arm. All went well, except that I forgot to tighten the valve before I pumped the little air balloon. Once I realized my mistake and the old man giggled at me, I´m wondering does he think I´m nervous or just a shitty doctor? Dr. Fitzsimmons would like to justify her ignorance and explain that in the U.S. we have machines that do this for us now, only I couldn't begin to say that in Spanish and it´s bullshit anyway. Then I listen to his heartbeat with the stethoscope. The Doc has pointed out that his liver has swollen to reach all the way to his clavicle, he can tell by what he hears in the stethoscope-gruesome. Last I take his blood sugar level. The poor man is so weak and small that his hands are ice. I try to prick his finger 3 times to draw enough blood for the glucometer but there is so little blood circulation to his extremities that the doc has to assist me. Better luck next time Dr. Fitzsimmons, but at least she didn´t kill him, my expectations of the rookie Dr. weren´t very high for her first patient.
After another hour of explanation and medical dissertation in Espanol by Dr. Lopez, he finally gives him a prescription, the whole family hugs and kisses us and he´s off, entourage and all. Talk about 1st class treatment, I wasn't sure if that nearly 3 hour appointment was a medical exam, psychological evaluation or group therapy.
When they leave the doc turns to me and doubles over with laughter, he can hardly catch his breath to fill me in. When they were leaving the patient´s daughter, Mynor´s wife, took Dr. Lopez aside and asked ¨Do I owe you something for this?¨ asking as a polite gesture. Laughter burst out of him again ¨ No no no punta I´m fecking Santa Claus and I run a fecking red cross out of my house¨ We crack up and he keeps going ¨No no no this is just a little hobbie of mine, I enjoy it, really¨ ¨lets go out to dinner and on de way out ask de waitress, do I owe you something for this?¨ We cant stop laughing and the variations of ¨do I owe you something for this¨ go on for the rest of the night.
That night Marta, Lady and I went for a late night drive to see the tree lighting and Christmas decorations around Zona 10. She is such a sweet woman, neurotic and a little ¨Fecking crasy¨ (as the doc put it) yes, but so sweet. I think she´s trying to sell me the city, she keeps asking if I´d consider moving here. I joke that would just for Lady, as I twirl her blond curls while she sits on my lap and looks up at me with her full moon eyes.
It was Mynor´s 63 yr old father, Reftaly. He´s suffering from cirrhosis of the liver due to 41 yrs of alcoholism and on top of that diabetes. He came today because he´s experiencing severe pain due to liquid that is collecting in his abdomen. He´s come to Doc and I for a prescription to relieve the pain. He´s a very faint, tiny man who´s voice is a mere whisper reminiscent of the Godfather, however his liver and stomach are so swollen with liquid its the largest part of him.
He arrived with an entourage; His wife, middle aged daughter and 2 grandchildren about 16 and 11. They all walked him in doc´s office and waited until he was finished. I cant help but laugh at the thought of the entire family gathering to accompany grandpa to a routine Dr appointment in America. It´s the perfect example of how much of a clan mentality they have with family here. It helps me understand why Doc is always talking about the loneliness he suffers. To be honest I thought he was being kind of a baby about it, a lot of people live by themselves, and anyway he has his Aunt, Santos and Martine. Now I understand that a typical Central American home is overflowing with family, children, noise and they do everything together.
The doc´s exams are painfully thorough. He pretty much had the patient and his wife tell his medical life story up until this point for the 1st 45 mins before even taking his blood pressure. I tried and tried over and over to focus and try to translate, but my mind kept running away thinking mostly about Heather.
Finally the exam began and Dr. Fitzsimmons measured his blood pressure. I wrapped the velcro around as tight as I could but it still hung loose on his tiny arm. All went well, except that I forgot to tighten the valve before I pumped the little air balloon. Once I realized my mistake and the old man giggled at me, I´m wondering does he think I´m nervous or just a shitty doctor? Dr. Fitzsimmons would like to justify her ignorance and explain that in the U.S. we have machines that do this for us now, only I couldn't begin to say that in Spanish and it´s bullshit anyway. Then I listen to his heartbeat with the stethoscope. The Doc has pointed out that his liver has swollen to reach all the way to his clavicle, he can tell by what he hears in the stethoscope-gruesome. Last I take his blood sugar level. The poor man is so weak and small that his hands are ice. I try to prick his finger 3 times to draw enough blood for the glucometer but there is so little blood circulation to his extremities that the doc has to assist me. Better luck next time Dr. Fitzsimmons, but at least she didn´t kill him, my expectations of the rookie Dr. weren´t very high for her first patient.
After another hour of explanation and medical dissertation in Espanol by Dr. Lopez, he finally gives him a prescription, the whole family hugs and kisses us and he´s off, entourage and all. Talk about 1st class treatment, I wasn't sure if that nearly 3 hour appointment was a medical exam, psychological evaluation or group therapy.
When they leave the doc turns to me and doubles over with laughter, he can hardly catch his breath to fill me in. When they were leaving the patient´s daughter, Mynor´s wife, took Dr. Lopez aside and asked ¨Do I owe you something for this?¨ asking as a polite gesture. Laughter burst out of him again ¨ No no no punta I´m fecking Santa Claus and I run a fecking red cross out of my house¨ We crack up and he keeps going ¨No no no this is just a little hobbie of mine, I enjoy it, really¨ ¨lets go out to dinner and on de way out ask de waitress, do I owe you something for this?¨ We cant stop laughing and the variations of ¨do I owe you something for this¨ go on for the rest of the night.
That night Marta, Lady and I went for a late night drive to see the tree lighting and Christmas decorations around Zona 10. She is such a sweet woman, neurotic and a little ¨Fecking crasy¨ (as the doc put it) yes, but so sweet. I think she´s trying to sell me the city, she keeps asking if I´d consider moving here. I joke that would just for Lady, as I twirl her blond curls while she sits on my lap and looks up at me with her full moon eyes.
Friday, November 14, 2008
No ibo, no worries
This morning I sat across from the doc with his usual black coffee and cigarette and ate my breakfast in silence. For his mouth not to be rattling off with another zen inspired lesson at the slightest beat of silence, is a problem. I looked at him for a moment, he knew he had to speak. "Mynor, jyou remember Mynor, our guide for de Nueva Luz houses" I nodded. "He iz now there. He has a relapses." My eyes widened and I shook my head "jYes, he iz now at de first that we saw, zona 5". I didnt say anything. Mynor- who sat with us during the interview and was an example of renewed sobriety to the patients, who I lamented with about the deplorable conditions, now a patient there. Finally the doc spoke "I cants stop but tink what iz so differents between he and me? We both have sobriety for very long and both trys to help de people in dat situations, so why him and not me? Wh.-" I cut him off "Because I'm here, and that would never happen with me here." He smiled, sort of brushed it off and said "Well thank jyou doctor." as he got up to go lay down in his room.
I didn't move for a moment. Then went to my room and began to write. 10 minutes later he came in with a smile and told me that Connie needed my bedsheets to wash, but no doubt came in only to counter his earlier attitude. "Give her jyour clothes and bed sheits" Then he pulled out his 45 mm and scratched his beard with it, squinted his eyes like Deniro and said "She doez what I sayz or she gits it" I crack up and got up to do so, once I can control my laughter.
I'm beginning to think the only reason he has that gun is to assist him in his jokes. In that regard it never fails him, its always hilarious. Actually the first week I was here he took precautions to make sure I never saw it, and assured me it was never loaded unless we went out. I'm sure he thought it would scare me. It's not uncommon to carry a gun here, this city is rough and the cops are corrupt. He told me he's never used it and hopes he never has to but especially with la gringa here, he carries it for defence. But of course he explained that in a round about way with another zen story about a young monk and his master. I'm sure he would kill me if he knew I was writing this, he told me not to advertise it to my family because he is aware of the American views on gun control, however we're are much more protected than Guatemalans. After much pestering on my part, he took it out yesterday, showed me all the functions and promised we'd go shooting eventually.
We took a trip to Antigua later that day. Doc wanted to get out of the city for a while and I wanted to finally do some sight-seeing. Antigua is the biggest tourist destination in Guat, it's also got a growing community of ex-patriot gringo hippies. I completely understand why. It's breath taking.
The small town is nestled in a valley among 3 volcanoes that tower over it. What's most striking about it though is the architecture. Almost all of the buildings and cobble stone streets date back to the early 1800s. There are 4 colossal, ornate, Spanish cathedrals and monasteries, most of them have been partially destroyed by volcano eruptions along with everything else in the town, some of them were repaired and still hold mass, the others remain beautiful ruins. Stunning glass and iron lamps drape down from every adobe roof and corner. From the furthest corners of the town I could still hear the Latin band playing from the courtyard park in the heart of Antigua.
We walked around for a long while taking it in, me snapping pictures with every 5 steps we took. We toured the ruins of one of the monasteries, walked in and out of little artisan shops. We had dinner on the sidewalk from these 2 women dressed in the traditional Mayan skirts and huipils (which are these hand croucheted very detailed peasant tops that drape over your body..I want one). They were making fresh tortillas on a little gas grill. We had these amazing tortas, (wish I could remember the names of everything) and these 1 inch thick doughy tortillas with cheese in the middle and piled on top guacamole, salsa, onion and cheese crumble.....soooo good and soooo high in cholesterol mmmmm. Then to drink was this thick, soupy, warm, sweet corn elixer, it's hard to explain, its like corn ground with sugar, peppermint and some other amazing spices, whatever it was it's definitely the best thing I've tasted in Guat thus far. We sat and talked with the women for a while-well, more so the doc, I really just listened, smiled and interjected "Si" every so often. We ate about 6 tortas and had 4 of those corn drinks and it came to about 31 quetzales which equals 4 US dollars!!! Needless to say I was enamored with Antigua and definitely need to go back for more than just an afternoon trip.
Still no ibogaine delivery. Again I'm writting in the tiny garden near the front door, awaiting a knock. I seem to be the only one so concerned with this. I just want to get started or at least know how things will go this week. Very American of me-longing for a schedule and to do list. I should try to enjoy the calm I have before the storm, as Libby tells me.
Today I found out a very dear friend of a friend had died after a long cancer battle that stole the bulk of her early twenties. All day my thoughts and blessings have been with Heather Weeks, her friends and family. I never had the privilege to get to know her, but I do know she was a truly beautiful person and performer that fought like hell. As I told Libby, it can be so hard to wrap your mind around the cruelty of nature, there is no justification in any of it. How lucky we are to wake up healthy everyday with the chance to persue and accomplish what we want out of life yet how unfair that she lost that chance.
Bless you Heather.
I didn't move for a moment. Then went to my room and began to write. 10 minutes later he came in with a smile and told me that Connie needed my bedsheets to wash, but no doubt came in only to counter his earlier attitude. "Give her jyour clothes and bed sheits" Then he pulled out his 45 mm and scratched his beard with it, squinted his eyes like Deniro and said "She doez what I sayz or she gits it" I crack up and got up to do so, once I can control my laughter.
I'm beginning to think the only reason he has that gun is to assist him in his jokes. In that regard it never fails him, its always hilarious. Actually the first week I was here he took precautions to make sure I never saw it, and assured me it was never loaded unless we went out. I'm sure he thought it would scare me. It's not uncommon to carry a gun here, this city is rough and the cops are corrupt. He told me he's never used it and hopes he never has to but especially with la gringa here, he carries it for defence. But of course he explained that in a round about way with another zen story about a young monk and his master. I'm sure he would kill me if he knew I was writing this, he told me not to advertise it to my family because he is aware of the American views on gun control, however we're are much more protected than Guatemalans. After much pestering on my part, he took it out yesterday, showed me all the functions and promised we'd go shooting eventually.
We took a trip to Antigua later that day. Doc wanted to get out of the city for a while and I wanted to finally do some sight-seeing. Antigua is the biggest tourist destination in Guat, it's also got a growing community of ex-patriot gringo hippies. I completely understand why. It's breath taking.
The small town is nestled in a valley among 3 volcanoes that tower over it. What's most striking about it though is the architecture. Almost all of the buildings and cobble stone streets date back to the early 1800s. There are 4 colossal, ornate, Spanish cathedrals and monasteries, most of them have been partially destroyed by volcano eruptions along with everything else in the town, some of them were repaired and still hold mass, the others remain beautiful ruins. Stunning glass and iron lamps drape down from every adobe roof and corner. From the furthest corners of the town I could still hear the Latin band playing from the courtyard park in the heart of Antigua.
We walked around for a long while taking it in, me snapping pictures with every 5 steps we took. We toured the ruins of one of the monasteries, walked in and out of little artisan shops. We had dinner on the sidewalk from these 2 women dressed in the traditional Mayan skirts and huipils (which are these hand croucheted very detailed peasant tops that drape over your body..I want one). They were making fresh tortillas on a little gas grill. We had these amazing tortas, (wish I could remember the names of everything) and these 1 inch thick doughy tortillas with cheese in the middle and piled on top guacamole, salsa, onion and cheese crumble.....soooo good and soooo high in cholesterol mmmmm. Then to drink was this thick, soupy, warm, sweet corn elixer, it's hard to explain, its like corn ground with sugar, peppermint and some other amazing spices, whatever it was it's definitely the best thing I've tasted in Guat thus far. We sat and talked with the women for a while-well, more so the doc, I really just listened, smiled and interjected "Si" every so often. We ate about 6 tortas and had 4 of those corn drinks and it came to about 31 quetzales which equals 4 US dollars!!! Needless to say I was enamored with Antigua and definitely need to go back for more than just an afternoon trip.
Still no ibogaine delivery. Again I'm writting in the tiny garden near the front door, awaiting a knock. I seem to be the only one so concerned with this. I just want to get started or at least know how things will go this week. Very American of me-longing for a schedule and to do list. I should try to enjoy the calm I have before the storm, as Libby tells me.
Today I found out a very dear friend of a friend had died after a long cancer battle that stole the bulk of her early twenties. All day my thoughts and blessings have been with Heather Weeks, her friends and family. I never had the privilege to get to know her, but I do know she was a truly beautiful person and performer that fought like hell. As I told Libby, it can be so hard to wrap your mind around the cruelty of nature, there is no justification in any of it. How lucky we are to wake up healthy everyday with the chance to persue and accomplish what we want out of life yet how unfair that she lost that chance.
Bless you Heather.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Waiting on the ibo spirit to knock on the door
1-The teenagers and other patients at Nuevo Luz- zona 5
2-Antialcoholico hospital/institution I visited in post #2
3-Same hospital with the head Dr. and nurse
4-plaques on the wall at AA
5-AA meeting, Lighting a cake to celebrate a member's 8 yrs of sobriety
I'm sitting next to the door on the computer awaiting our ibo delivery, it should be any time today...
Yesterday I woke up to the voice of a little girl. I could hear her chasing poor Lady around and screeching at her. When I got up to go to the kitchen I saw a small older woman that I figured out was the maid, Connie. Then a tan little face popped out from behind the door and a little girl about 5 or 6 ran up and wrapped her arms around my thighs and hugged me tight. I looked down surprised and said "Hola" she greeted me and asked about 5 questions (none of which I understood) without letting me out of her grasp. This is Connie's granddaughter, Michella Isabella.
Back when I first arrived the doc was apologizing for the mess at the house and explained to me that his maid has a very severe alcohol problem and she hadn't showed up for work in a week. He tries to offer her help but she wants none of it, she's still in denial. Michella's mom married another man and left her with Connie. Now doc is afraid Michella suffers from malnutrition because of Connie's negligence when she drinks.
This is her first day back in almost 2 weeks, I can tell he's relieved to have her back but is still pretty pissed about it.
From that moment on everywhere I went Michella was right behind me. She is surprisingly understanding that I cant speak her language and is very good at communicating with me in other ways. At lunch she told the doc that she's positive she can teach me and that she'll bring in some of her books that are dual language. Today we worked on "The Bad Wizard". She read to me in spanish and I read the english part to her. She is such a smart, confidant little girl. The nice thing is, she's the only one that will speak to me in spanish all the time even though she knows I don't know what she's saying, everyone else either tries to speak english to me or doesn't speak to me at all.
She's also the only that can understand my love for Lady, and doesn't think I'm weird for it. She comes along on our morning walks to the park now. She has a real fascination for my computer. I'm not sure if she's been on one before or not but she finds everything I show her endlessly interesting- she spent about 3 hours on Microsoft paint. I went though all my pictures with her and she still wanted to see more. Marta and doc think I'm nuts for letting her go near my computer, but she's so curious and I know she cant do too much harm. It's been kind of nice having a shadow, but it can get exhausting, she makes me aware of my age.
I finally started the free online spanish class (LiveMocha.com) I had been meaning to get to. Its an awesome site if you're trying to learn a language.
Yesterday we finally had a meeting about the logistics of the ibo house and sessions. Jeraldo came back to the house with doc. He helped doc get the house together and is going to be in charge of the finances of the clinic. Jeraldo is a sweet middle aged man, he speaks about as much english as I do spanish, so the meeting was difficult and longer than it needed to be because everything we said the doc had to translate to the other one...this is really getting old, I need to learn fast.
We covered a lot in the meeting though, which was great. I finally had some of the questions that have been floating in my head for the last 2 months answered. The name of the clinic & our association will be C.A.T.A.- Clinica Avenzada Para Tratomento de Adicciones, or in english; Advanced Center for Addiction Treatment. He has a logo in mind, a brain with an arrow pointing to a nautical star- The brain being redirected or having a new path. It's a cute idea but not very aesthetically pleasing, I'm going to help him tweak it.
Patients will stay in the house for a week, we'll do an intro dose on their 1st or 2nd day and then do the flood dose after a couple days. Then they'll be in out-patient care for another week, meaning if they are from Guatemala they can go home or to a nearby hotel but come to the center as much as they want to continue therapy sessions with doc, if they're from out of the country they'll stay in a hotel and come by the clinic for meals, therapy, talking, whatever. This seems pretty time consuming but doc insists it'll work out, he's used to being burnt out.
It looks like I'll be in charge of; nursing/screening the incoming patients, assisting him in administrating the ibo, night watching and cooking. Probably more when it comes up. I know it'll be a lot but I'm really excited to finally be an integral part of this process.
This is the first time I've been able to give knowledge back to the doc and it felt really good.
I tried to show them that if they want foreign patients, they'll need to look at this like a tourist- this is where I come in, because I am. So I suggested that when the website is designed (thankfully we have a designer, someone that bartered with him for med. treatment I'm sure) that we design a page that will explain the city, things to do around Guat, the weather, suggested hotels to stay at during out-patient recovery. This way we might be able to have the hotels pay us for advertising or work a deal with them that we get a percentage of every client we send them. They loved my ideas, Jeraldo kept calling me tesoro-a treasure.
Then we talked food-which is a bigger part of running a center than you'd imagine. People coming off of Ibo typically don't stop eating once their appetite returns. At the house in Mexico I would finish the dishes from the lunch and have to start dinner immediately. I remembered that Bobby (he runs the after care house in Mexico) knew a lot about what people need to eat after the treatment, so I emailed him today and he was extremely helpful. He let me know the foods contraindicated ibo which are those containing quinine; tonic water, Squirt soda, grapefruits. Papayas help metabolize medicine and aid the digestive system in restoration after treatment. Omega 3(fish) is very important and those coming off of opiates need a high fiber diet. I cant thank him enough.
Once we get the ibo (which should have come today) we'll do doc's treatment, then Jeraldo's, I don't think I'm up for another one. As soon as we finish with theirs and they get their strength back we'll get started on Josh. So if I'm feeling a little restless and bored at times, I just know what's on the horizon is going to put me though the wringer. I cant wait....
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Fishing for a vein
1-Nueva Luz- zona 42-Patients at Nueva Luz, zona 4 in front of the car
3-The entrance of Nueva Luz-Zona 5. Doc is the one in the jacket with the blue bible
4-Jail cell
5-My new boyfriend (The teenager that asked for my number) haha adorable
I realized this weekend that I'm bound to gain weight here, carbs in their many different forms (beans, rice, tortillas) are the only food group here. So I started every morning taking Lady for a run in the little park in the gated community we live in. It's a gorgeous jungle-like park cluttered with different tropical flowers and trees, it's also the only patch of natural life I've seen in Guat city. I cant really say I'm in love with this city. It does have a ruff around the edges charm but I'm really dying to see a body of water. Marta goes out of town from tue-fri for work so I get to be Lady's mommy for the week. While Marta and I took her to the park the other day she was telling me that Lady was originally the Dr.'s brother's, when he died 2 yrs ago Lady wailed day and night, her nipples grew and filled with milk. When they took her to the Vet they found out she had a hysterical pregnancy from greif- Crazy right?
The mosquitoes here are extraterrestrial. The stealthy bastards don't buzz at all and are half the size of a normal mosquito, so you cant hear or see them coming. Covering up doesn't help, they actually crawl under your sleeves or bite through your clothes. The bites hurt like a sting for a minute before they itch and swell up to the size of a quarter. I'll take the giant caramel colored roaches over those bastards..well I'm not completely sure about that. I had a beastly roach in my room last night actually. I opened my dresser drawer and I saw these 2 inch long feelers sticking out at me, I stayed surprisingly calm and by that I mean my bowels didn't loosen. I ran to get the doc to remove it. He picked it up and dangled it by its feelers and started laughing "dis is what jyou need me for?" he started walking toward me, that's when I lost composure and began squealing, hopping up and down and shaking my hands. He dangled it over his mouth and started lowering it, just to watch me squeal, when Marta heard this she ran in the room just to laugh at the gringa.
Dinner that night was liquefied black beans into a soup. By the time I leave here I'll be able to list off the many variations of black bean dishes like Bubba- Black beans and rice, refried black beans, black bean soup, black bean gumbo....
After we ate it was time to train for my new nursing position at the ibo clinic. I've been delaying this for days, but I guess if I'm going to play a Dr. I'll need something to back it up. First I learned how to measure blood pressure, without the machines we have in the US. It was surprisingly easy, so was testing the oxygen in the blood, not much to it. Then we took it up a level to blood sugar testing. You have to prick the finger and drip the blood on a reactive tab that gets read on a little machine. Doc was being a very good sport, even though I had to draw blood 3 times from his finger until I got it right. Then the needle came out, time to learn how to give an injection. We used vitamins and anesthetic to inject the doc and used the fattiest area so it would hurt the least-the superior external quadrant of the buttocks. The braver you are about it and quicker you stab the less it hurts the patient, I however was painfully slow because my hands were shaking.
Then the one I was dreading for days-taking a blood sample. This was by far the hardest out of the 5. He made me learn to tie the tourniquet correctly with a piece of elastic, if I'm in a situation where I don't have a proper tourniquet I'll need to know how to improvise. That alone took 30 mins, mostly because I dropped the elastic and it snapped him in the eye so we had to take 50 breaks because he couldn't stop laughing at his own smart ass comments that followed. The tricky thing is, you don't have much time once you tie the tourniquet because you can really cause circulation damage if you don't act quickly. After you clean the area you need to locate the vein, which is a nightmare. Once you think you've found the biggest, most lucrative vein you need to insert the needle a 1/2 inch below the spot and keep the syringe as steady as possible because it's terribly painful to have a needle fishing around in your vein. After 3 tries of tapping a vein and no blood coming out, with the doc's help I found it and filled the syringe with his blood. He's going to look like a heroin addict for a couple of days, but no real harm done.
I cannot believe I'm going to be trusted do this to incoming patients at the clinic, and on top of that they'll think I'm a Doctor. God forbid someone chokes, what the hell am I going to say?
The mosquitoes here are extraterrestrial. The stealthy bastards don't buzz at all and are half the size of a normal mosquito, so you cant hear or see them coming. Covering up doesn't help, they actually crawl under your sleeves or bite through your clothes. The bites hurt like a sting for a minute before they itch and swell up to the size of a quarter. I'll take the giant caramel colored roaches over those bastards..well I'm not completely sure about that. I had a beastly roach in my room last night actually. I opened my dresser drawer and I saw these 2 inch long feelers sticking out at me, I stayed surprisingly calm and by that I mean my bowels didn't loosen. I ran to get the doc to remove it. He picked it up and dangled it by its feelers and started laughing "dis is what jyou need me for?" he started walking toward me, that's when I lost composure and began squealing, hopping up and down and shaking my hands. He dangled it over his mouth and started lowering it, just to watch me squeal, when Marta heard this she ran in the room just to laugh at the gringa.
Dinner that night was liquefied black beans into a soup. By the time I leave here I'll be able to list off the many variations of black bean dishes like Bubba- Black beans and rice, refried black beans, black bean soup, black bean gumbo....
After we ate it was time to train for my new nursing position at the ibo clinic. I've been delaying this for days, but I guess if I'm going to play a Dr. I'll need something to back it up. First I learned how to measure blood pressure, without the machines we have in the US. It was surprisingly easy, so was testing the oxygen in the blood, not much to it. Then we took it up a level to blood sugar testing. You have to prick the finger and drip the blood on a reactive tab that gets read on a little machine. Doc was being a very good sport, even though I had to draw blood 3 times from his finger until I got it right. Then the needle came out, time to learn how to give an injection. We used vitamins and anesthetic to inject the doc and used the fattiest area so it would hurt the least-the superior external quadrant of the buttocks. The braver you are about it and quicker you stab the less it hurts the patient, I however was painfully slow because my hands were shaking.
Then the one I was dreading for days-taking a blood sample. This was by far the hardest out of the 5. He made me learn to tie the tourniquet correctly with a piece of elastic, if I'm in a situation where I don't have a proper tourniquet I'll need to know how to improvise. That alone took 30 mins, mostly because I dropped the elastic and it snapped him in the eye so we had to take 50 breaks because he couldn't stop laughing at his own smart ass comments that followed. The tricky thing is, you don't have much time once you tie the tourniquet because you can really cause circulation damage if you don't act quickly. After you clean the area you need to locate the vein, which is a nightmare. Once you think you've found the biggest, most lucrative vein you need to insert the needle a 1/2 inch below the spot and keep the syringe as steady as possible because it's terribly painful to have a needle fishing around in your vein. After 3 tries of tapping a vein and no blood coming out, with the doc's help I found it and filled the syringe with his blood. He's going to look like a heroin addict for a couple of days, but no real harm done.
I cannot believe I'm going to be trusted do this to incoming patients at the clinic, and on top of that they'll think I'm a Doctor. God forbid someone chokes, what the hell am I going to say?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Blame it on the Moon
1. Lady-Mi Amor2. Martine with Lady
3&4.The park
So I finally got a little time off, spent Sunday relaxing. Sunday actually was a pretty strange day. I'm starting to see the method to the doc's madness. On Saturday night we looked up at the moon and he told me that he believes it sends out electromagnetic fields of energy when it is aligned a certain way, which affects our moods and actions. Due to the crescent that night, the cycles over the next 2 days will illicit strange moods or behavior.
Now I can be pretty far out, but when he told me he really believed that I just smiled and nodded, thinking it was psycho-induced, if you believe the moon will make you feel strange than you will regardless. Whether or not that is true, Sunday was strange.
I was feeling very Agoraphobic all day, maybe I was frustrated that I couldn't speak to anyone without the doc or just a touch of culture shock, whatever it was I couldn't leave the house all day. I slept about 12 hours, even though the following days I was well rested. The doc was gone before I woke and came home late in the afternoon. I was in the very small garden in front of the house taking in the sun. He came over to me and asked me to come in his office to speak about something privately. This is extremely odd. He is the kind of person that would tell a room full of strangers what time he took a shit that day, so I thought I must have done something wrong.
His office is the archetype of a Dr/psychologist's office; certificates lining the walls, a framed portrait of Freud, big comfortable leather chairs, a plastic brain model on a stand, little magnetic puzzles and games, Tibetan nick knacks.
He closed the door behind him and said, "I be jyour first patient Dr. Fitzsimmons" and laughed half heartily. He plopped into the "patient" chair, the comfy one. I sat motionless in the rigid "Dr." chair just watching him. He held his head and told me about his day. He was being pushed to fire either Santos or his 17 yr. old brother Martine, who also lives with us (they help at home and with his other joint business, which is a little food vending thing) I don't remember the exact reasons, something with money, nothing that Santos or Martine did. The Dr's parents, grandparents and little brother are all dead, he only has his aunt. He's always talks about how much loyalty means to him-building a team or a family of trustworthy people. He began to talk about how accustomed he is to being alone after his brother died, how he doesn't feel alone anymore-he is alone. That's why when he finds trustworthy, loyal workers he considers them family. He doesn't want to fire either of them, but is in an economic bind. They come from severe poverty and have never betrayed his trust. As the words came out tears ran down his face. I didn't know what to do-I did nothing. Seeing a 42 yr. old man openly and shamelessly cry is not something I come across everyday, in fact I don't think I ever have. I just listened, frozen. When he was done he said, "I'm glad jyou saw dis and hope jyou can do the same in front of me, jwhen you need to."
That's when I realized the fundamental different between our cultures-when he said that I nodded my head at the same time thinking-there's no way in hell I would. I/we see crying as something I physically could not squeeze out in front of a stranger, acquaintance or even a friend, unless maybe I was drunk. While he sees it as an opportunity to open himself to and gain the trust of a friend. It really was beautiful to see someone so open, but it was painfully uncomfortable because it reminded me of how far away from that I am.
Then he lit a match and said "Look to dis flame, it is every world-born ting, every relationship, parent, child, p-p-p-how you say like your dog, like lady?" "Pet?" I answered. "jYes! Jyes..jyour Pet, jyour best friend-see how suddenly de flame burn out? Just like every world-born ting it will all one day leave, at any time." the flame died as soon as he finished speaking, as if he timed and rehearsed it.
We had dinner soon after with Tia Marta, Santos and Martine (who still avoid my eye contact and attempts at "buenas dias!"). Black beans and rice with tortillas. They spoke in Spanish, while I focused and tried to keep up (no such luck). Once we finished Marta and the boys got busy clearing the dishes, as they left I said "gracias, buenas noches" and for the first time in almost a wk Santos and Martine smiled, blurted out "Buen noche" and they hurried out. Once they were clear, the doc laughed and said "Why do jyou tink they have not gave jyou answer until now?" I shrugged "They know I cant speak Spanish and don't want to hear me try?" he laughed again "no they have embarrass, I talked to them today, told them they must speaks with jyou" He went on to explain that they think of me as Princess Diana, because I'm from the states, and they're ashamed to share the house with me and be around me because they grew up so poor. Since he told them I was coming a month ago Santos asked him every other day "When is la gringa coming?" dreadfully, and he would say "relax, relax she will live like one of us, that's why she iz coming, anyway iz not for a few more wheeks" Then onceI arrived and he saw how they lowered their gaze and muted themselves when I came into a room, he spoke to them and told them to take princess Di off the pedestal and treat me like one of them.
"This makes SO much sense, I've been wondering!" I said, he laughed and said "jYou see? Dis iz what we learned about in my slides" referring to the slides about how the brain filters a situation and misperceives it because of their own psychological issues. "they don speak with jyou becauz they think too high of jyou and jyou tink iz because you Spanish is no good enough for them."
Then he told me (one of many) Zen/Aesop fable-like stories and promised this one would be short. Called the house of 102 dogs. A dog walks into an unknown house and sees 100 dogs looking back at him, wagging their tails, panting and smiling. The dog was delighted and walked out thinking "what a wonderful place, I know clubs for humans exist, finally a club for dogs, this is great!" Later another dog walks into the house and sees 100 dogs looking back at him, he's caught by surprise and the hair on his back begins to rise in defence. The many dogs begin to lower their tails and raise their lips to a growl. The one dog sends out a warning bark to keep their distance. Then the 100 dogs bark and howl back at him, the sound is deafening. Terrified the dog runs out for his life thinking "What an awful place, I will never go near this house again" in front of the house there is a sign that reads "The house of 100 mirrors"
I said "Oooh, you see what you are" He smiled and said "Good, Dr.Fitzsimmons" (my version of the story of course is without his long character by character description and extended dialogue)
After dinner we watched Midnight Express (I also have a mile long list of movies I'm assigned) which is pretty old, I think late 70s but an incredibly powerful movie. I still have some of the images in my head. After the movie it was (to no surprise) lesson time. We talked for a long time about the theory of "micro-rage", how many small irritations over a long period of time can change a person and allow them to commit acts that no one would ever expect from them, for instance a man or woman killing their spouse when everyone around them thought they were happily married.
That lead into his theory of neurological relationship dependence/toxic relationship addiction and the way that the brain reacts to it. I haven't fully grasped it but it's something like; when people fall in love the brain associates their smells and voice (all the sensory aspects) to the rush of endorphins that the brain receives when that person is around. In nearly the exact same way that the brain becomes psychologically addicted to drugs it can become addicted to a person. The brain associates that drug to the first euphoric rush of endorphins it received the first time it got high/drunk and is forever trying to get that feeling back-similar to a toxic relationship. No matter how bad things have gotten all you remember and try to recapture is the first happy months/weeks of the relationship. And when you finally call things off, the brain suffers withdrawals in a similar way it does when withdrawaling from drugs-when it is dependant on those endorphins and goes without them it suffers, and knows that if only it could have one hit of the substance or in this case one phone call from that person, it would end its suffering-and there in lies the cycle of psychological addiction.
hmm...maybe there is something to that.
Now I can be pretty far out, but when he told me he really believed that I just smiled and nodded, thinking it was psycho-induced, if you believe the moon will make you feel strange than you will regardless. Whether or not that is true, Sunday was strange.
I was feeling very Agoraphobic all day, maybe I was frustrated that I couldn't speak to anyone without the doc or just a touch of culture shock, whatever it was I couldn't leave the house all day. I slept about 12 hours, even though the following days I was well rested. The doc was gone before I woke and came home late in the afternoon. I was in the very small garden in front of the house taking in the sun. He came over to me and asked me to come in his office to speak about something privately. This is extremely odd. He is the kind of person that would tell a room full of strangers what time he took a shit that day, so I thought I must have done something wrong.
His office is the archetype of a Dr/psychologist's office; certificates lining the walls, a framed portrait of Freud, big comfortable leather chairs, a plastic brain model on a stand, little magnetic puzzles and games, Tibetan nick knacks.
He closed the door behind him and said, "I be jyour first patient Dr. Fitzsimmons" and laughed half heartily. He plopped into the "patient" chair, the comfy one. I sat motionless in the rigid "Dr." chair just watching him. He held his head and told me about his day. He was being pushed to fire either Santos or his 17 yr. old brother Martine, who also lives with us (they help at home and with his other joint business, which is a little food vending thing) I don't remember the exact reasons, something with money, nothing that Santos or Martine did. The Dr's parents, grandparents and little brother are all dead, he only has his aunt. He's always talks about how much loyalty means to him-building a team or a family of trustworthy people. He began to talk about how accustomed he is to being alone after his brother died, how he doesn't feel alone anymore-he is alone. That's why when he finds trustworthy, loyal workers he considers them family. He doesn't want to fire either of them, but is in an economic bind. They come from severe poverty and have never betrayed his trust. As the words came out tears ran down his face. I didn't know what to do-I did nothing. Seeing a 42 yr. old man openly and shamelessly cry is not something I come across everyday, in fact I don't think I ever have. I just listened, frozen. When he was done he said, "I'm glad jyou saw dis and hope jyou can do the same in front of me, jwhen you need to."
That's when I realized the fundamental different between our cultures-when he said that I nodded my head at the same time thinking-there's no way in hell I would. I/we see crying as something I physically could not squeeze out in front of a stranger, acquaintance or even a friend, unless maybe I was drunk. While he sees it as an opportunity to open himself to and gain the trust of a friend. It really was beautiful to see someone so open, but it was painfully uncomfortable because it reminded me of how far away from that I am.
Then he lit a match and said "Look to dis flame, it is every world-born ting, every relationship, parent, child, p-p-p-how you say like your dog, like lady?" "Pet?" I answered. "jYes! Jyes..jyour Pet, jyour best friend-see how suddenly de flame burn out? Just like every world-born ting it will all one day leave, at any time." the flame died as soon as he finished speaking, as if he timed and rehearsed it.
We had dinner soon after with Tia Marta, Santos and Martine (who still avoid my eye contact and attempts at "buenas dias!"). Black beans and rice with tortillas. They spoke in Spanish, while I focused and tried to keep up (no such luck). Once we finished Marta and the boys got busy clearing the dishes, as they left I said "gracias, buenas noches" and for the first time in almost a wk Santos and Martine smiled, blurted out "Buen noche" and they hurried out. Once they were clear, the doc laughed and said "Why do jyou tink they have not gave jyou answer until now?" I shrugged "They know I cant speak Spanish and don't want to hear me try?" he laughed again "no they have embarrass, I talked to them today, told them they must speaks with jyou" He went on to explain that they think of me as Princess Diana, because I'm from the states, and they're ashamed to share the house with me and be around me because they grew up so poor. Since he told them I was coming a month ago Santos asked him every other day "When is la gringa coming?" dreadfully, and he would say "relax, relax she will live like one of us, that's why she iz coming, anyway iz not for a few more wheeks" Then onceI arrived and he saw how they lowered their gaze and muted themselves when I came into a room, he spoke to them and told them to take princess Di off the pedestal and treat me like one of them.
"This makes SO much sense, I've been wondering!" I said, he laughed and said "jYou see? Dis iz what we learned about in my slides" referring to the slides about how the brain filters a situation and misperceives it because of their own psychological issues. "they don speak with jyou becauz they think too high of jyou and jyou tink iz because you Spanish is no good enough for them."
Then he told me (one of many) Zen/Aesop fable-like stories and promised this one would be short. Called the house of 102 dogs. A dog walks into an unknown house and sees 100 dogs looking back at him, wagging their tails, panting and smiling. The dog was delighted and walked out thinking "what a wonderful place, I know clubs for humans exist, finally a club for dogs, this is great!" Later another dog walks into the house and sees 100 dogs looking back at him, he's caught by surprise and the hair on his back begins to rise in defence. The many dogs begin to lower their tails and raise their lips to a growl. The one dog sends out a warning bark to keep their distance. Then the 100 dogs bark and howl back at him, the sound is deafening. Terrified the dog runs out for his life thinking "What an awful place, I will never go near this house again" in front of the house there is a sign that reads "The house of 100 mirrors"
I said "Oooh, you see what you are" He smiled and said "Good, Dr.Fitzsimmons" (my version of the story of course is without his long character by character description and extended dialogue)
After dinner we watched Midnight Express (I also have a mile long list of movies I'm assigned) which is pretty old, I think late 70s but an incredibly powerful movie. I still have some of the images in my head. After the movie it was (to no surprise) lesson time. We talked for a long time about the theory of "micro-rage", how many small irritations over a long period of time can change a person and allow them to commit acts that no one would ever expect from them, for instance a man or woman killing their spouse when everyone around them thought they were happily married.
That lead into his theory of neurological relationship dependence/toxic relationship addiction and the way that the brain reacts to it. I haven't fully grasped it but it's something like; when people fall in love the brain associates their smells and voice (all the sensory aspects) to the rush of endorphins that the brain receives when that person is around. In nearly the exact same way that the brain becomes psychologically addicted to drugs it can become addicted to a person. The brain associates that drug to the first euphoric rush of endorphins it received the first time it got high/drunk and is forever trying to get that feeling back-similar to a toxic relationship. No matter how bad things have gotten all you remember and try to recapture is the first happy months/weeks of the relationship. And when you finally call things off, the brain suffers withdrawals in a similar way it does when withdrawaling from drugs-when it is dependant on those endorphins and goes without them it suffers, and knows that if only it could have one hit of the substance or in this case one phone call from that person, it would end its suffering-and there in lies the cycle of psychological addiction.
hmm...maybe there is something to that.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Training Day
Dr. Lopez rushed me out of bed and told me that we were leaving in 20 mins to go to 2 rehab clinics today that were very religious, he handed me a bible and told me to dress up-today we are christian missionaries...perfect. I laughed at him while I watched him paint a crucifix on his book with white-out, over breakfast.
Black beans and eggs again, although his Aunt- Tia Marta kept piling things on my plate, yogurt, 3 slices of toast with jelly, fruit (the most incredibly sweet papaya y pina I've tasted in forever) all the while yelling at Dr. Lopez in spanish for not accommodating me. When she went into the kitchen he said "I tink Tia Marta will de first patient to treat with de ibo" "Wow, really? Why?" I said, "jYes, because she iz fecking crasy!"
She sat with me while I ate and asked me with wide eyed excitement about my ibo experience. I'm in love with her dog "Lady" that follows her every step. She's the most beautiful cocker spaniel with long golden and blond curls that drape around her. I'm in love. Aunt Marta thinks my enthusiasm for Lady is hysterical, "Look at ojos when I say about de bath, she hate de bath..Laaady BANO BANO!" Lady's eyes almost bulge out of her little head, and we crack up. Now literally every single time I see Tia Marta she says "Laaady BANO BANO!" and laughs.
We picked up his friend Myner who was our in at the clinics-"Nueva Luz" New Light, they're owned by the same people but in different zones (Guat city is divided into Zonas, which are basically different burroughs). We walked into Nueva Luz in Zona 5 bibles in tow. Myner spoke to the head of the ward to give him the speil that we are Christian missionary doctors visiting rehab clinics around Guat to speak to the patients. While we waited to be admitted Dr.Lopez looked at me and said "I be your shadow and you know what I am carrying." referring to his gun.
Holy shit. It looked like a makeshift jail for war prisoners. The walls were crumbling apart with black filth that reached waist high, no ceiling, but pictures of Jesus and the 12 steps nailed all over the walls. There was a very small jail cell in the corner that 2 young men were reaching out of to get a look at us-This is the cage that Louise (at the "5 star" rehab house) was talking about. MUCH to my surprise the warden had arranged all 25 patients before us and 2 chairs at the front for us. I was to give my interview to the audience...christ be with me. As I looked out at them I was surprised by how many young faces there were, it seemed like a quarter of the patients were under 17. As soon as I came in I noticed the younger boys whispering, nudging and giggling to each other..
The doc went on for a long while about his history with addiction, his final sobriety and his current field of work, then introduced me for the interview. Before I got a word in 4 hands arose. The doc translated for one man's question; He wanted to know what Dr. Fitzsimmons history with addiction was and my over all opinion on addicted people. I told him although I personally hadn't dealt with it, my family had and explained, my opinion of addicted people is that it is a physical disease therefore the people should be treated with the same compassion and medical treatment as any other med. condition. As soon as I finsihed 3 more arms shot up. A very old man said that my answer made everyone very confused because this wk they had another religious speaker come in and explain to them that the reason for their substance abuse and suffering was due to past sins that they must pay for, and that their desire to drink is demons inside of them, now what we are saying makes them wonder if they should believe religion or the science we brought ....oh merciful christ. They actually believe this, even the teenagers, it broke my heart.
We had several more questions, including one of the boys that was giggling when I came in, couldn't have been more than 14, thanking me profusely for taking time out to visit them, he couldn't believe that a dr. from the U.S. could make time for them and was wondering if he could have my phone number..I'm sure his friend dared him. Another told me it meant so much to see that there are dr.s that care about addicts and are taking time to develop something to help them. Afterward they huddled around us asking for medical advise. There is absolutely no medical care in Nueva Luz, so they took this opportunity with the dr.s very seriously. People showed us very severe psoriasis (which is aggravated by alcohol intake), fractured bones, rolled up their clothes and pointed to the places they felt pain while Dr. Lopez tried to advise them all. Then they hugged me and thanked me profusely. All I knew how to say was "Mucho gusto" which I just repeated over and over. One of the very old men hugged me and said "VIVA OBAMA!!" all I knew to say back was "SI!!!" as I held my heart. Dr. Lopez took me over to shake hands with the 2 young boys hanging over the bars of the tiny cell, I smiled at them and they just stared at me blankly. Even if I could speak their language I have no idea what I would have told them, but I felt I needed should say something.
I took out my camera to take a quick pic and once they saw it every single one of the teenage boys lined up and fought to take an individual picture with me. They offered us a meal but the doc refused for me and whispered "I tell you later what they serve"
We drove to the next clinic in silence, Myner and the doc wanted my opinion but I was so torn up by seeing the childlike excitement of the teenagers in that hell hole, some of them behind bars with the only thing to eat cow lungs and spleen...every day...which was the meal they offered us. With all of this in mind, these clinics are the middle of the spectrum of options as an addict, they are paying for this, it's affordable, but they are still paying. Doc told me we have yet to see the worst and even then people would die to be admitted into even the worst clinics.
Nueva Luz in zona 4 was the next stop. The clinic looked like a big abandoned garage, complete was a broke down car in the corner that had stray cats chasing each other around it.The chairs were arranged like a church, with us on a platform in the front, the 12 steps painted behind us like the ten commandments and a picture of Jesus leading a defeated-looking man out of a bar. 17 patients, all older men. When I looked out my first thought was that if I was stifled by the heat in the air, I cant imagine how dreadful it must be to go through withdrawals here, when you're already constantly sweating and shaking. The interview here was much more difficult. They were'nt as charmed by the fact that I was from the U.S, they wanted legitimate answers from a doctor. One by one they told their heart-rending stories and always at the end something close to "I've tried everything, what can I do when I leave rehab on monday, I cant afford medication and I cant afford to stay here because my family needs me to work, what is your advice Dr. Fitzsimmons?" There are only so many times that I could answer them "Build a sober network with each other when you leave, rely on friends that are going through the same, attend AA meetings, trust that you are in control". I almost gave up, I was so overwhelmed because who the fuck was I sitting up here as a doctor, when I have no idea the pain they have had to live through in this country as an addict, who am I to try to give them the same bullshit advice they've heard before. Finally I would just say what do you think Dr. Lopez?
It's so hard for me to grasp. I feel like the people that run these institutions should be incarcerated for this treatment but the reality is, as the doc explained when we left, the Guat Gov. made a law in 1950 that no addicts or intoxicated people were allowed to stay or be treated in a hospital, at all. therefore the options that I saw today are a dream compared to being on the street. As one of the patients said after he told his story "If it were'nt for clinics like this, an affordable way to get help, I and thousands of others would be dead."
That evening doc told me a little about our first ibo patient an 18 yr old named Josh. Doc been his physician since he was born but all thorugh his teens Josh has been using coke, crack, alcohol and inhalents (which is most common among Guat teens, becuase it's so cheap) pretty much whatever he can get his hands on he abuses. Josh has been to the rehab houses many times (his father has money, as far as Guat standards go) and has had no luck. He's been talking to Josh's father for years about ibogaine and promised him that Josh would be the first patient.
Tonight we took his father to see the Ibogaine treatment house, it was my first time as well. The doc's intentions were to show me all of the options for addicts in Guatemala, from the best to the worst (although I have yet to visit the worst) that way when I work in the ibo house I'll be able to understand where people are comming from and where we stand among the options.
I was blown away.
Now not to sound like a snob but this house was not perfect by Guatemalan standards, it was perfect by my privledged standards. I honestly did not expect this much before I got here. I was in Sayulita, Mexico before and after they were able to get their treatment house, I know how difficult and time consuming it can be to start an independant buisness. I thought we would be borrowing space in a hospital or using his house for treatments until we could get it off the ground. But this house is a dream. The dr. invested so much into it, its vastly nicer than his own home.
The 1st fl has plenty of room for a kitchen, dining room, 2 offices, a patio and meeting/waiting room for incomming patients or their families. The 2nd fl. has a family room, 3 bedrooms for patitents to have their treatments done in, equipped with cameras aimed at the beds so we dont have to interrupt their process by opening the door and checking on them. Such a small thing that makes SUCH a big difference. The 3rd fl. has a bedroom, bathroom and patio upstairs for staff, removed from the patients so we dont have to whisper and tip toe around while they're being treated. While he was giving us the tour I was imagining everything I've wanted to do for so long play out in each room.
My homework keeps piling up, I have; the Alcoholics Anonymous blue book, the history of zen (in spanish) and 3 med. journals on brain function. Off to work.
Black beans and eggs again, although his Aunt- Tia Marta kept piling things on my plate, yogurt, 3 slices of toast with jelly, fruit (the most incredibly sweet papaya y pina I've tasted in forever) all the while yelling at Dr. Lopez in spanish for not accommodating me. When she went into the kitchen he said "I tink Tia Marta will de first patient to treat with de ibo" "Wow, really? Why?" I said, "jYes, because she iz fecking crasy!"
She sat with me while I ate and asked me with wide eyed excitement about my ibo experience. I'm in love with her dog "Lady" that follows her every step. She's the most beautiful cocker spaniel with long golden and blond curls that drape around her. I'm in love. Aunt Marta thinks my enthusiasm for Lady is hysterical, "Look at ojos when I say about de bath, she hate de bath..Laaady BANO BANO!" Lady's eyes almost bulge out of her little head, and we crack up. Now literally every single time I see Tia Marta she says "Laaady BANO BANO!" and laughs.
We picked up his friend Myner who was our in at the clinics-"Nueva Luz" New Light, they're owned by the same people but in different zones (Guat city is divided into Zonas, which are basically different burroughs). We walked into Nueva Luz in Zona 5 bibles in tow. Myner spoke to the head of the ward to give him the speil that we are Christian missionary doctors visiting rehab clinics around Guat to speak to the patients. While we waited to be admitted Dr.Lopez looked at me and said "I be your shadow and you know what I am carrying." referring to his gun.
Holy shit. It looked like a makeshift jail for war prisoners. The walls were crumbling apart with black filth that reached waist high, no ceiling, but pictures of Jesus and the 12 steps nailed all over the walls. There was a very small jail cell in the corner that 2 young men were reaching out of to get a look at us-This is the cage that Louise (at the "5 star" rehab house) was talking about. MUCH to my surprise the warden had arranged all 25 patients before us and 2 chairs at the front for us. I was to give my interview to the audience...christ be with me. As I looked out at them I was surprised by how many young faces there were, it seemed like a quarter of the patients were under 17. As soon as I came in I noticed the younger boys whispering, nudging and giggling to each other..
The doc went on for a long while about his history with addiction, his final sobriety and his current field of work, then introduced me for the interview. Before I got a word in 4 hands arose. The doc translated for one man's question; He wanted to know what Dr. Fitzsimmons history with addiction was and my over all opinion on addicted people. I told him although I personally hadn't dealt with it, my family had and explained, my opinion of addicted people is that it is a physical disease therefore the people should be treated with the same compassion and medical treatment as any other med. condition. As soon as I finsihed 3 more arms shot up. A very old man said that my answer made everyone very confused because this wk they had another religious speaker come in and explain to them that the reason for their substance abuse and suffering was due to past sins that they must pay for, and that their desire to drink is demons inside of them, now what we are saying makes them wonder if they should believe religion or the science we brought ....oh merciful christ. They actually believe this, even the teenagers, it broke my heart.
We had several more questions, including one of the boys that was giggling when I came in, couldn't have been more than 14, thanking me profusely for taking time out to visit them, he couldn't believe that a dr. from the U.S. could make time for them and was wondering if he could have my phone number..I'm sure his friend dared him. Another told me it meant so much to see that there are dr.s that care about addicts and are taking time to develop something to help them. Afterward they huddled around us asking for medical advise. There is absolutely no medical care in Nueva Luz, so they took this opportunity with the dr.s very seriously. People showed us very severe psoriasis (which is aggravated by alcohol intake), fractured bones, rolled up their clothes and pointed to the places they felt pain while Dr. Lopez tried to advise them all. Then they hugged me and thanked me profusely. All I knew how to say was "Mucho gusto" which I just repeated over and over. One of the very old men hugged me and said "VIVA OBAMA!!" all I knew to say back was "SI!!!" as I held my heart. Dr. Lopez took me over to shake hands with the 2 young boys hanging over the bars of the tiny cell, I smiled at them and they just stared at me blankly. Even if I could speak their language I have no idea what I would have told them, but I felt I needed should say something.
I took out my camera to take a quick pic and once they saw it every single one of the teenage boys lined up and fought to take an individual picture with me. They offered us a meal but the doc refused for me and whispered "I tell you later what they serve"
We drove to the next clinic in silence, Myner and the doc wanted my opinion but I was so torn up by seeing the childlike excitement of the teenagers in that hell hole, some of them behind bars with the only thing to eat cow lungs and spleen...every day...which was the meal they offered us. With all of this in mind, these clinics are the middle of the spectrum of options as an addict, they are paying for this, it's affordable, but they are still paying. Doc told me we have yet to see the worst and even then people would die to be admitted into even the worst clinics.
Nueva Luz in zona 4 was the next stop. The clinic looked like a big abandoned garage, complete was a broke down car in the corner that had stray cats chasing each other around it.The chairs were arranged like a church, with us on a platform in the front, the 12 steps painted behind us like the ten commandments and a picture of Jesus leading a defeated-looking man out of a bar. 17 patients, all older men. When I looked out my first thought was that if I was stifled by the heat in the air, I cant imagine how dreadful it must be to go through withdrawals here, when you're already constantly sweating and shaking. The interview here was much more difficult. They were'nt as charmed by the fact that I was from the U.S, they wanted legitimate answers from a doctor. One by one they told their heart-rending stories and always at the end something close to "I've tried everything, what can I do when I leave rehab on monday, I cant afford medication and I cant afford to stay here because my family needs me to work, what is your advice Dr. Fitzsimmons?" There are only so many times that I could answer them "Build a sober network with each other when you leave, rely on friends that are going through the same, attend AA meetings, trust that you are in control". I almost gave up, I was so overwhelmed because who the fuck was I sitting up here as a doctor, when I have no idea the pain they have had to live through in this country as an addict, who am I to try to give them the same bullshit advice they've heard before. Finally I would just say what do you think Dr. Lopez?
It's so hard for me to grasp. I feel like the people that run these institutions should be incarcerated for this treatment but the reality is, as the doc explained when we left, the Guat Gov. made a law in 1950 that no addicts or intoxicated people were allowed to stay or be treated in a hospital, at all. therefore the options that I saw today are a dream compared to being on the street. As one of the patients said after he told his story "If it were'nt for clinics like this, an affordable way to get help, I and thousands of others would be dead."
That evening doc told me a little about our first ibo patient an 18 yr old named Josh. Doc been his physician since he was born but all thorugh his teens Josh has been using coke, crack, alcohol and inhalents (which is most common among Guat teens, becuase it's so cheap) pretty much whatever he can get his hands on he abuses. Josh has been to the rehab houses many times (his father has money, as far as Guat standards go) and has had no luck. He's been talking to Josh's father for years about ibogaine and promised him that Josh would be the first patient.
Tonight we took his father to see the Ibogaine treatment house, it was my first time as well. The doc's intentions were to show me all of the options for addicts in Guatemala, from the best to the worst (although I have yet to visit the worst) that way when I work in the ibo house I'll be able to understand where people are comming from and where we stand among the options.
I was blown away.
Now not to sound like a snob but this house was not perfect by Guatemalan standards, it was perfect by my privledged standards. I honestly did not expect this much before I got here. I was in Sayulita, Mexico before and after they were able to get their treatment house, I know how difficult and time consuming it can be to start an independant buisness. I thought we would be borrowing space in a hospital or using his house for treatments until we could get it off the ground. But this house is a dream. The dr. invested so much into it, its vastly nicer than his own home.
The 1st fl has plenty of room for a kitchen, dining room, 2 offices, a patio and meeting/waiting room for incomming patients or their families. The 2nd fl. has a family room, 3 bedrooms for patitents to have their treatments done in, equipped with cameras aimed at the beds so we dont have to interrupt their process by opening the door and checking on them. Such a small thing that makes SUCH a big difference. The 3rd fl. has a bedroom, bathroom and patio upstairs for staff, removed from the patients so we dont have to whisper and tip toe around while they're being treated. While he was giving us the tour I was imagining everything I've wanted to do for so long play out in each room.
My homework keeps piling up, I have; the Alcoholics Anonymous blue book, the history of zen (in spanish) and 3 med. journals on brain function. Off to work.
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