Yesterday was my first day working alone as a staff nurse and I survived! It went well.
I was nervous to be on my own because aside from still adjusting to the
unit and the language(s), patient loads here are much heavier than in
the United States. When I got to the hospital in the morning, I learned
that I'd be working in "the box," which is the glass-walled partition
where the smallest, most critical babies live. I had five patients. In
the states, I would have had two. I was fortunate that none of them
were very sick and that I didn't have any major obstacles during the day.
A few weeks ago, I met a man who works at the US Embassy here and his daughter, who were at mass at St. Damien one day. His daughter, who is in college and has grown up traveling and living abroad her entire life, commented that Haiti was by far the hardest place she'd ever seen. Then she added, "I just keep thinking that we won the genetic lottery." I have returned to her comment more times than I can count. Since living in Haiti, I have reflected over and over on how hard people work here. I was nervous about making it through one single day alone in the NICU, but the other nurses here routinely work four 12-hour shifts back-to-back, two days and then two nights. Most people work six days a week. One of my friends works six days a week at two different jobs. It's not unusual for the chauffeurs to work 16-hour days if the villa is busy. And compensation for this workload can be in the neighborhood of $190 per month. One friend has dreamed of being an engineer for ten years, but can't afford to pay for school. Another, who is a doctor, would like to put his brother through school, but he has a year of service and a surgical residency ahead of him before he can even think about earning any money. People here work so hard, for so little, and why? Simply because they were born in this fractured, poverty-riddled country where opportunity and advantage are scarce. Genetic lottery.
A few weeks ago, I met a man who works at the US Embassy here and his daughter, who were at mass at St. Damien one day. His daughter, who is in college and has grown up traveling and living abroad her entire life, commented that Haiti was by far the hardest place she'd ever seen. Then she added, "I just keep thinking that we won the genetic lottery." I have returned to her comment more times than I can count. Since living in Haiti, I have reflected over and over on how hard people work here. I was nervous about making it through one single day alone in the NICU, but the other nurses here routinely work four 12-hour shifts back-to-back, two days and then two nights. Most people work six days a week. One of my friends works six days a week at two different jobs. It's not unusual for the chauffeurs to work 16-hour days if the villa is busy. And compensation for this workload can be in the neighborhood of $190 per month. One friend has dreamed of being an engineer for ten years, but can't afford to pay for school. Another, who is a doctor, would like to put his brother through school, but he has a year of service and a surgical residency ahead of him before he can even think about earning any money. People here work so hard, for so little, and why? Simply because they were born in this fractured, poverty-riddled country where opportunity and advantage are scarce. Genetic lottery.
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