Health Care in America and why I'm thankful for it

Friday night, after I had to do the hardest thing at work since I’ve gotten to Haiti (tell someone not to come back on Monday—not fire him, he was there for training and just didn’t make the cut) I got a Facebook message saying my grandpa (who has been fighting cancer for a while and has been off chemo since January) was admitted to Hospice in the hospital because he was barely eating anything.

I tried to act normal, eat dinner, and help out at a tent city tap tap wound clinic, but my mind was elsewhere. I keep picturing the last time I was home and saw my grandpa. I keep seeing the last time I saw him, the last time we sat and had a conversation, and the last time I hugged him.

I then woke up Saturday morning to a Facebook status from my dad that said my seven month old nephew had to go to the ER in the middle of the night because he couldn’t breathe. Holy cow, I wanted to be with my family right then and there. After breakfast I called my mom and found out my nephew was okay he had that thing that starts with a c, but I can’t remember what it is. I got updated on my grandpa.

That morning I was heading to a wound clinic to help out wherever needed. These happen every Saturday and each Monday and Wednesday afternoons. People wait in long lines to get seen for huge wounds or just to get a prescription of some sort. As we were traveling there I was lost in thought about my grandpa and my nephew and watched as we drove by a huge tent city. I thought about if the same things happened to someone in those families, would they feel like I do or would their situation turn worse. Would they have been able to take their infant child to the hospital to get a shot and get his/her breathing under control or would that child have to suffer and maybe make it through the night? I was so thankful for the health care in America. I’m so incredibly thankful that my brother and sister in law had easy access to get him to the hospital. One simple shot saved his life, but how many people here in Haiti do not have that opportunity?

What if there was no health care for seniors in America? Would my grandpa still been able to have the treatments, medicine, and extra medical equipment brought to his house? Would he still be alive today, or would he have lost his fight a long time ago? Would either my brother and his family or my grandpa have to stand in a long line for hours and hours in the hot sun waiting to be seen just to be given some prescriptions? Driving by that tent city, made me more thankful for American health care than I had ever been before.

I was on the pharmacy duty and I filled pill packets with whatever medicines I was told to, squeezed creams into small cups, and put water in oral suspensions. Ibuprofen, cold medicine, anti-scabies cream, many things I could not pronounce if I tried, milk, soap, lotion, anti-itch cream, allergy medicine, and the list could go on and on and on. I was so grateful for the sisters who spend so much time organizing this, seeing these patients, diagnosing them, caring for them. I was thankful for the medicine that surprisingly did not run out and I was thankful for the opportunity that these Haitians have to come get this medical help.

Here’s a little update on my grandpa: He’s been given 2 days to 2 weeks to live, his skin is turning yellow, he barely eats, when he does eat he was severe nausea, he sleeps all the time, and he doesn’t talk much at all. I sure miss him. I love you Grandpa.

I hope this post made you a little more thankful for the medical care we have in America even though we grumble about it far too often. I also ask that you pray for my grandpa as he lives his last few days before he goes to see our Savior and my family in the coming weeks. Especially keep my grandma in your prayers—they just celebrated their 56^th Anniversary in March. I love you grandpa and my little buddy Ezekiel! Love to the rest of my family as well—wish I could be with you!