A Low Grade Fever

I have been trying to blog for a couple months now, and feel as though I cannot get my words to match my feelings and emotions. I have lived in Haiti for over 18 months and yet my heart breaks just as much as it did day one. Haiti is beautiful and hopeful, but at the same time it has this chronic cloud of injustice hanging over it that does not seem to break.

I spoke with Aaron Elliott once about this cloud and how it leaves this ache in the pit of my stomach that does not seem to go away. It was then he compared it to having a constant low grade fever of sadness. It never quite goes away because I cannot erase the experiences I have been exposed to, especially while living in Haiti. Sometimes I wish I could forget, and not have to think about the children in the village that tell me they are hungry and have not eaten in a few days, or the mothers who are holding their sick children and saying, “I cannot pay to come to the clinic, please can you help me?” I see constant financial struggles related to how a family spends their money… Do I go to the clinic for health care for me? For my child? Do I send my child to school instead? Or do I buy groceries to feed the family?

It is this constant ache in my heart that doesn’t go away because there is not an easy solution. I cannot just tell everyone to bring their child to the clinic without paying, or give the entire food pantry to everyone that cries of hunger. This would only continue toward building a dependency on me and on NVM, which would not be healthy for either relationship. We as an organization want to help develop pride and self esteem in our friends, not cause them to continue to think they need our help to meet all their needs.

I am currently having a large spike in my fever. I would say about 105 degree Farenheight. HaHa. Seriously though, there is another “Rose” in my life that I cannot get out of my head for the past two months. His name is Davidson. Davidson lives near Baby Rose, and has a very similar story. Mom doesn’t want him and leaves him with grandma who is taking care of 3 other grandchildren. He is constantly dirty, naked, sitting alone or laying in the dirt till the nurses arrive to scoop him up while we visit.

Davidson had been sick in November and his 10 year old cousin and her friends brought him to the clinic. He had an awful rash and looked skeletal. We treated him and continued to watch him over the next month and he continually lost weight and became more and more lethargic. We would give him formula, but it would quickly be shared and gone within the same day.

Davidson is on bottom

In December we walked down to the village and saw Davidson lying in the dirt not moving. We were not sure whether he was dead or alive. Etienne slowly walked over to him and saw his back rise and fall again. She picked him up and it was evident he was literally starving. His lips were dry and his skin flacky. He had not eaten in who knows how long. Fortunately, he had enough strength to chug down the pedisure I had in my bag. I asked around about what was going on and spoke to grandma about the severity of Davidson’s health. I told her he would die if they did not start feeding him and taking better care of him. She understood but could not afford to feed her other children, and with no one fighting for Davidson he continued to slip away.

My return from Christmas vacation didn’t bring any better news as Davidson’s mom taken him to another location. Now I couldn’t even give him an occasional bottle of pediasure. My friend Natacha informed me “Oh Aubree, he is not good. His feet and arms are inflamed, his skin is sloughing off, and his belly is big and round.” This description instantly took me back to a little girl Kacie and I saw in the clinic months before. We called her our princess pajama girl. She ended up passing away and provided me my first heart breaking exposure to malnutrition at its worse.

I have not seen Davidson since I have been back from my Christmas vacation and I have been begging the grandma to bring him to the clinic. I asked pastor if we could intervene in some way, and he said yes but we must go about it properly. I am working on getting the mom to bring him to Chambrun so we can monitor his food intake and see what Dr. Edmond recommends. I hope eventually we can put him in a children’s home that will be able to offer him more than what we can at this time.

I wish I could end this blog by saying Davidson is safe and being taken care of, but I cannot. I wish I could say my faith is strong and I do not worry or lose sleep over him at night, but I cannot say that either. I can only continue to trust that God’s beautiful story for Davidson’s life is written and that He has a perfect plan for him.