I am happy to be back “home” at Lamp, after we had canceled our three most recent trips due to street protests and insecurity.

Our day started in the usual way, with our driver Anglanes arriving at my apartment with a warm smile, welcoming me back to his country. But that smile faded quickly, as he told me about “blokis” or street barricades that he had to avert to get to work. There is a massive demonstration planned for this Friday, to protest the current president and force him from office, and sometimes things start to heat up a bit in advance of the main event. Vit vit, he said as he hurried me into the van and off we went, doors locked.

On the way I chatted with Dr. Hyppolite and the nurses and our newest lab tech, Miss Blais.  As we approach the outskirts of Cite Soleil, like he does every day, Dr H. hangs his stethoscope around his thick neck, and it makes both ends of the instrument sort of stick out so one has the sense that it will fall off . He wears it this way, I ‘ve come to learn, deliberately. He wants people to know that if they plan to hold up the vehicle,  they may ultimately be harming themselves or people they care about if the doctor can’t get into work. Thus far, it’s been quite effective.

During my morning meeting with Dr. Hyppolite, we talk about the gangs in the area, and how their presence impacts our staff. Then we talk about medications, and he tells me how we need to deepen our reserve as the needs are growing at Lamp. “It’s a great need, Dr. Jim”. Next we discuss how he wants to take the exam for ACLS (Advanced Cardiac Life Support) as he has taken the course online because it’s not available in Haiti. He has studied it over multiple times and is sure that he can pass it, but he cannot find a way to take it, and can I help him? After telling me about his ultrasound skills that are growing, but which are still not good enough because of limited opportunity to get more training, our conversation comes back to the community, and that despite the troubles and the gangs and the ubiquitous trash and lack of electricity  and poor sanitation… despite these things, he is committed to Lamp, and Lamp is committed to the zone.

As I sit down at my desk, readying for the patients, I feel that I’ve just conversed with one of the most committed doctors I’ve ever known, and I feel privileged to call him colleague and friend.

One of my first patients of the day was Lourdy, about 40 years old with a cough for the past month. She had been to see a doctor at the general hospital about one month ago, and they suggested some medication, but she hasn’t the money and could not afford to buy it. She has asthma, and we were able to give her some medication which will control her symptoms.  She thanked me as she left, and   wished me a good day, smiling and coughing as she did.

There were multiple patients like Lourdy, facing challenges like will I be able to eat tomorrow?, and how will I access medication?   Clearly these are problems not unique to the slums of Cite Soleil, but they are indeed acute here.  But what’s even more clear to me is that committed people, like you who would take the time to read this, or Dr. Hyppolite, who is living this, together play a vital role for this place.  We are having a positive impact.

– Jim (via email from Haiti)

Nine years ago today, at 4:53 pm, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake struck Haiti. With that event, came abrupt devastation and loss of life and suffering.  Accurate counts are hard to come by, but suffice it to say many died, many became amputees, many lost a home.

None of us have given up.

I recall in the aftermath of the tranbleman tè a physical fear that we might not be able to access food or water, and feeling constantly parched. I recall the smells permeating around the city, as bodies began to decay under the rubble. I recall the exhaustion of the seeming never-ending line of patients to be yet seen.  But in particular, I recall one young man whom I was helping to care for. He was about 25, and he had been working in a local business when the building collapsed suddenly. He lay on a thin mattress on the tile floor before me, his left arm crushed. The once sturdy radius and ulna of his forearm were quite literally ground into a sand-like state; the swollen, red soft tissue of the arm belied an insidious growing infection. We gave him fluids and antibiotics and pain medication, and we prepped him for surgery to have an amputation.

And I sat down with him and we talked. “You have to save me”, because, you see, he had a fiancée, and was to be married in a few months. Also, he had a job, and his mother was counting on him to provide for the family. “So you have to save me.” He asked me about my family, and wanted to know what brought me to his country. He had so much pain, he said, but the medicine helped.

I saw many patients that night, stopping to check in on my friend several times before my relief arrived. I tried to reassure him that the surgeons were working as fast as possible. I examined his swollen arm and noted his growing fatigue, and said goodbye one last time.

The next day, I found out my friend died. I wept for him then, knowing that my tears were but a few drops in the sea of tears, and I went back to work.   As we all know now he was one of many who would perish, and yet he left behind people who would not allow their lives to be defined or confined by this tragedy. People like you who would continue to stay engaged in life, and try to make it a little bit brighter.

There exists in certain parlance a simple notion of see, judge, act. We keep our eyes open to the world around us.  Should a certain condition arise, the see-judge-act model suggests we follow observation with deliberation. Is this situation normal? Can I, ought I, involve myself? Finally comes agency. Agency involves risk taking, and engagement.

Today we have an opportunity to recall in solidarity the pain of the 2010 earthquake. But with agency, with organization, with great hope let’s continue to engage the personhood of one another.

Warmly sent, on this cold January day-

Jim

Many stories at the Lamp make reference to dire threats to health and challenging medical treatment.  This one is about something much simpler.  Ms. Plaisirmon had already had two children when she enrolled in the prenatal care program at the Lamp.  She received a battery of tests and then came regularly to the clinic for the next eight months.  Her health was generally good – she was treated for an infection and mild anemia – and so was that of the baby.  Lamp Community Health Workers (CHWs) came to her home several times to check in on her.  She got an ultrasound and took her prenatal vitamins as prescribed.  She received a delivery kit and an infant kit.  When it came time to deliver, one of the CHWs went with her to the hospital to make sure that she had the support she needed.  In the photo, she is back at home with her new baby boy (dressed in clothes from the infant kit).  Her gratitude is boundless; she recalls the struggles — physical, financial and emotional — she had with her first two deliveries; she sends message after message to Lamp staff, thanking them for their accompaniment.

The idea of accompaniment is one that Dr. Paul Farmer made central to all of his medical theory.  (Dr. Farmer is the founder of Haiti’s best large-scale health organization Partners in Health and was a crucial inspiration for the Lamp in its early days.)  Health is best served, he felt, when the medical profession considers the whole complex of factors that cause ill health.  In low income settings this means that one must accompany each patient, continually overcoming those factors that may block the path to good health.  Ms. Plaisirmon’s story is an ordinary one, but it is an important one for the Lamp.  It is a sign that we are on the right path.

By Tobias Baer

You can choose to ignore the troubles in the world or you can do something about it. In 2015, when I was eleven, I had the opportunity to meet Lamp for Haiti co-founder Dr. James Morgan, who has worked to help people in one of the poorest parts in Haiti, Cité Soleil. Lamp for Haiti provides basic health care treatment to the people in Cité Soleil with experienced doctors that give examinations, treatments, and medicine.

I wanted to find a way to help support this cause, which provides so much for people with so little.

To do this, I came up with and planned a fundraiser based on one of my favorite activities — basketball. I love playing and watching basketball, and knew other people do, too. The first Hoops for Haiti, which is a 3-on-3 basketball tournament, took place in 2016 in Montclair, NJ. Then, I organized  a second tournament in 2017. In total, we’ve raised over $10,000 for an incredible cause, and brought together dozens of players and lots of sponsors.

This year, I’m hoping we raise at least $6,000 — and you can help fulfill this goal.  So please, consider donating to Hoops for Haiti to help support thousands of people in one of the poorest countries of the world. If you would like to help fund Hoops for Haiti, you can participate in the 3-on-3 tournament on May 12, or you can donate money at the Hoops for Haiti section of the Lamp for Haiti website. Together we can make a difference, so please consider donating to Hoops for Haiti.