Bo's Journal Entry--Day 1

This my second Guatemalan excursion, and our previous scribe absent, I took it upon myself to record the events, mishaps and emotions of the week.
Sunday
After an early start with a surprisingly on-time presentation by myself, the group made it to Ohare only to find itself in a line designed to test our anxiety levels and ensure a sprint to the gate. To help us, Continental Airlines thoughtfully introduced us to the new added-bag fees: $25 for the second, $100 for the third which provided the tachycardia necessary for the cardiac output to support the run to the gate, Slowed by my stealth belt weapon through security, my on-time appearance was skillfully negated so that I could arrive last to the gate.
The flight was full and my recent lack of intimacy was relieved by the closeness of my seat companion, who had the foresight to have garlic for breakfast. Fortunately, the lack of sleep the previous two nights provided the anesthetic needed to endure the plush seating and adequate leg room, so I arrived refreshed and eager to start this years’ Guatemalan experience.
The arrival to our hostel and gracious hostess, Lidia, was a pleasant reunion and instantly our watches slowed to third-world time, the tensions of the travel easing off our shoulders. Checking into our rooms quickly refreshed our memories of the concrete firm mattresses. Wrapped in plastic, I was encouraged that enuresis was expected, no doubt this being the BPH suite. Dinner was pleasant, chicken of course, and our group felt the bonding process begin. Despite the hostel being a front for AA, a few of us were able to find some spirits and toast the end to our first day. While part of our group enjoyed the evening devotions with the South Dakota group (they talk just like Canadians), the rest of us continued to our liver testing, solving all issues great and small. Bedtime came early as we drifted away with thoughts of the coming days, lulled to sleep by the chair dragging exercise in the room above.
Monday
Finally in a bed that I was eager to jump out of, the morning arrived to find me up at 6, quickly dressing for a morning walk. Greeting all the dogs that I had become acquainted with on my previous evening run, I felt the appreciation the owners felt for their canine alarms at my early passing. Returning to the hostel, a robust breakfast awaited, complete with black beans. These were devoured with enthusiasm, as we anticipated the methane chorus we could share throughout the day. Continuing my New Years’ resolution of on-time appearance, I was the first of the group to board the bus. With all on board appreciating sardine packing, the bus ventured forth to the orphanage. Fortunately, no death defying show of driving skill highlighted the trip and all enjoyed the panorama of Guatemalan culture en route. The roof dogs were on station and we once again marveled at the array of chrome car parts available for rusted Toyotas. Stray dogs gathered, grateful for the lack of Chinese restaurants and more than one cow and horse demonstrated where the idea for runway model thinness came from.
Arriving at the compound without mishap, we again met up with old friends, the years’ gap quickly bridged, and our morning devotion was underway. Vowed to 85% this year, I, surprisingly was able to refrain from commentary and we broke into our respective groups and assignments.
Most of the first morning was spent in unloading, organizing and putting away supplies we had imported at great cost, thank you Continental. In our year of absence, the progress of the clinic was nice to see. A local physician had been hired to provide primary care M – F, the back room had been tiled and mostly cleared. Assignments were determined and we were delighted to see our first patient, none other than our good friend Wilson. During the course of the morning, Dennis once again demonstrated the need for an AED in the bathroom (apply pads before using, Dennis), but may have inadvertently discovered a method to encourage patients not to linger. The morning closed with the group adjusting to their roles and before we realized, it was time for lunch.
To Kelly’s delight, chicken was served, with postprandial entertainment consisting of watching mongrel dogs devour chicken bones, all, no doubt, graduates of the “Chicken Chewing School” as none choked. Then a brief bean serenade, led by the great Leigh Anne-le-toot. Routine gave way in the clinic to something special, when a young pregnant woman presented, her due date 4 days away, this her 3rd pregnancy, contracting 4 – 5 minutes apart, wondering if she had time to make it to the hospital in Chimaltenango. After Jamie jamming her fingers on a skull during her vaginal exam, I was quickly called in. A rapid assessment and an equally rapid discussion ensued, during which Jamie, Kelly and I demonstrated the headless dance step of Kelly’s favorite cuisine, we concluded that a birth was imminent.
Carefully and methodically we put together a delivery kit, consisting of bed sheets, cord clamps, a No 20 knife blade (no handle), a dental syringe with epinephrine for potential repair of episiotomy, 3 sterile towels, a Tupperware tub to receive the baby, and lots of chutzpah. We further assembled a photography team that would, if not record the event, at least provide enough flash lighting that we would be able to see. Following the script beautifully, the soon-to-be mother progressed and utilizing the Jamie Six Hand Technique, a baby boy was delivered, the cord cut and a new Guatemalan, Marco, cried his approval of our efforts. Father swooned, relieved that a man-child had been born, relieving him of further anticipated wedding expenses. And just like that, Clinica Misericordia became Clinica Cut-the-cordia, all before 5 o’clock, quitting time. A tired yet triumphant crew returned to Dona Isabela for evening repast of FISH!! Kelly got supper after all!