The Rio Coco Adventure Part II--Sheila

Yes, mom, Jonathan left me in the jungle.
I stayed in San Andres with the primary medical team while part of the group went to some nearby (an hour or so by boat) villages. Since this reduced our number of translators, I got to put my translation skills to the test in the vision clinic without the safety net of a bilingual person to help out when I got in a pinch. We mainly got by. Not that my Spanish is so advanced, but so many of our clients spoke only Miskito and were quite accustomed to working around language barriers. My handy cardboard box with phrases scribbled on helped us get through the day. Of course, all the Miskito words I got I learned through Spanish--so it took me like half a day to think my way through a sentence...
"better or worse?" "mejor o peor?" "pain-pain ar soura?"
"Try these on" "Pruebe estas lentes" "Mangkaia kaikaia" (which I think is literally "put-face-see")

"Jefe" Harvy and my favorite sodier

I would never have made it without the help of "my soldier". This 19 year old kid has been picking up Miskito while stationed in the Rio Coco region, and was such a sweet guy. He sat by me on the boat ride in, and our shared cracker lunch turned out to be an investment with rich return. He was hungry for attention from Carl, and by translating their conversation, I got to know quite a bit about him. One thing for sure, he was the most patient of his group. Not only was he patient with my rotten Spanish/Miskito, he was the least grouchy about the lateness of their paycheck. You see, the soldiers who traveled with us, and the entire army outpost in San Ramon were expecting a helicopter to arrive with their weekly pay and food rations and it was late. *remember this fact for later*

The clinic was busy and full of excitement. That's the thing about a trip like this--you never know what will come through the line, or what you may be called upon to do. When nurse Lana asked, "Can you hold the flashlight for this surgery? Do you get queasy?" all I could think was, "Beats me. I guess we'll find out." I'm sure Michael the machinist couldn't imagine what it would be like to assist in surgical extractions of teeth. I doubt nursing student Aura was expecting to help deliver a baby girl. I know pharmacist Robyn wasn't really expecting that we'd need those anti-seizure meds. Saying "expect the unexpected" is very different from experiencing it.

Michael helps Dr. Chuck  

Nurse Lana and our youngest patient

That was before Tomas arrived.

At first all we knew was that he had sustained an injury to his arm somewhere on the river, and had been making his way toward us. With absolutely zero medical knowledge it was clear to me this guy was in trouble. One look at Dr. Barry's face and I realized he must be in worse shape than I thought. The medical providers worked all day just trying to stabilize his vital signs. They arranged for shifts of people to stay with him through the night--and it wasn't until nearly 10 hours later that they actually turned their attention to his wound. He had a severe compound fracture, and after they cleaned and re-bandaged it discussions turned to how to transport Tomas out to a hospital. I assumed that things were fine. Tomas was now able to sit up and drink water, he could speak, he was even able to test out some reading glasses to use the bible the preachers had brought when they came to pray with him.  Tomas was not really fine. I wouldn't understand how serious his condition was until later.

Malena and Harvy had been working on a plan to get Tomas on a boat at least as far as Wiwili--a trip of perhaps 12 hours against the current, where he would then still need to find a bus another 4 or 5 hours to Jinotega before beginning his wait at the hospital. As with many negotiations in Nicaragua, it wasn't as straightforward and simple as just buying a ticket. As they worked on the logistics of this trip, someone said; "What about the helicopter?"
Remember? The army supply helicopter that was supposed to come the day before, but had been delayed? Delayed by mechanical problems. Delayed until Tomas could make it to San Andres. Delayed until he was stable enough to travel. Delayed to get Tomas to the hospital that very day.

As the helicopter lifted over the house tops, I put my arm around a teary-eyed Dr. Barry and smiled. His voice cracked as he said, "He's going to live. He made it out. He's going to live. God knew just what we needed."

Truly. God provides.