Down with the Sickness (July 7)

Whether from getting water in my mouth during a shower, while doing laundry, or from food washed in the tap, I woke up this morning feeling rather sick. As the day wore on at work, I felt progressively worse, eventually needing to go back to the homestay to use a sanitary bathroom, drink insane amounts of water (four liters), and pop Pepto-Bismol like candy. The morning was not entirely lost, however, as when we retrieved one of the laboratory’s broken centrifuges, we found simply that the brushes in the motor were too worn down, and we were able to replace them and put the machine back into service.

During inventory of the pediatric ward, we were directed to three infusion pumps (devices that force I.V. fluids into a patient) which sounded alarms and gave error messages. We found the problem to be in the delicate sensitivity of the tube detectors, which were designed to sense whether an I.V. tube was in the correct position to be ‘milked’ by the infusion pump. Although nothing could be changed on the pump itself, we were able to find a way to satisfy the detectors. Rather than pushing the tube back as far as possible—where it should be—as the nurses had been doing, we were more successful with the pumps by first pushing the tube deeply into the groove, and then essentially flossing the tube in the crevice until it became flush with all the sensors, as indicated by an LED.

Although the operational fix we found may prove quite helpful to the nurses, they were completely unsurprised by the cause of the malfunction or the nature of its solution. “This I.V. tubing is the wrong brand for these pumps, but it’s all that is available. That’s problem number one,” she said. Unavoidable mismatches like these, comparable to the donation of a diesel truck to a place that has only regular gasoline, are one of the reasons that Dr. Malkin of EWH as well as others discourage the donation of medical equipment in favor of processes that promote growth in the production, purchase, and maintenance of these devices as part of the local economy.

Indeed, the economy of Honduras was severely set back in 1998, when Hurricane Mitch ferociously unleashed torrential rains on the nation for four days, destroying every bridge in the country, 70% of all crops, and over 50,000 cattle in addition to killing 6,000 despite full-scale evacuations. Now, all of the many bridges we have seen in the country are quite new, with the skeletons or pieces of the old bridges visible to the sides.

The skeleton of an old bridge

After lunch, we climbed up onto the hospital roof with Jairo to fix a ventilation fan needing a new belt. The sun was extra hot from the roof, but the view of the city was excellent, and I spent much of the time up there imagining what a great place the roof would be for a bunch of potted plants and small trees. I was then surprised to see Jairo jump suddenly off the roof, landing on a giant, red water tank a few feet away and a couple feet down. When he motioned for us to follow, I first took a few moments to evaluate some important factors, such as the expected friction and curvature of the surface I would land on as well as some different things gravity might do to me if I didn’t land correctly and centrally on the horizontally cylindrical tank. Thus prepared, I made the leap without incident and then climbed down the rungs on the far side of the tank, though I discovered at that time that base jumping is not for me.

After work, we went to the bus station to meet Julien, the On-the-Ground-Coordinator for Honduras who had come to visit us and check up on our progress, and went to a restaurant for dinner. After discussing our experiences and challenges so far and our priority goals for the summer, we went to a local place near the central park to play pool. After a few games costing 3 lempiras per game (that is, 16 cents), a couple of guys from Olanchito, Hector and Ricardo, offered to play with us. As we learned and played the unique Honduran version of pool, Ricardo was incredibly good, scarcely missing a shot, while Hector was able to speak to us in rather good English. “Near Chicago? Yeah, I know where you’re talking about. I have family in Florida, New York, and California. But me? No. I love my country. I’m not interested in going up through Mexico,” Hector said.

Leaving the bar, we were astounded by the cyclists we saw approaching from down the street, because while the head of one was visible across the line of cars parked by the curb, the full body of another was equally visible high above the rest. “Is he riding one of those retro-London bicycles with the giant front wheel?” we thought. As he passed, we could see that he had taken the frames of two identically sized bikes and welded one on top of the other upside down, with a chain leading from the top bike to the back wheel of the bottom bike. As we cheered the clever craftsmanship, he turned around and came back to us, offering to let us try riding it. As Tom attempted to get started on the bizarre behemoth, his balance failed due to the curb before he could reach a stable speed, and he fell flat to the side down onto the concrete sidewalk. Although he appeared to hit his head (extremely hard), he had managed to block that by sacrificing his arm as a helmet, and his elbow sustained a deep gash. When my turn came, I evaluated the situation in a similar manner to that of the roof-jumping earlier, and decided to get completely up onto the bike using the column of a nearby building for support before trying to move forward. Thus successful, I rode around the area on the mutant bike, drawing stares and double-takes all the while; a quite liberating experience, I must say.

We then returned to the house to find ourselves locked out, as the door and gate were closed. Luckily, we stumbled across a buzzer which alerted Milania of our presence. When she came to let us in, she said that our late return was not a problem, but that she simply thought that we had gone to bed already and that she always locks everything once she comes home for the night.