Today I read a beautifully-written article about the recent bombings in Boston. It provided me with insight into something I've been wondering
about lately -- as the author writes,"Death is always unexpected in America." This week I've been
reading a study on the book of Luke by N.T. Wright, and he mentions the
healthiness of the "old spiritual discipline of listing one's blessings .
. . especially in a world where we too often assume we have an absolute
right to health, happiness and every possible creature comfort." Haiti, the
country I currently live in, thankfully does not experience bombings. But death
is not unexpected here, and no one seems to think they have a right to
health.
One of the first things Jackson, a Haitian friend, said to
me as he was picking me up from the airport last week was how sorry he
was about the tragedy in Boston. (I didn't respond to him quite as graciously as Ms. Zakaria -- my response was more in this vein.) As I re-connected with other Haitian
friends and acquaintances this situation was repeated over and over, even
with those whose family members had recently died due to something
easily preventable in the US, or those who were frequently without
food in the past weeks. Yet they cared about what had happened in my country and wanted to express their concern.
I have a good friend in the US whose son was born with a heart defect.. She has told me that of course it is really hard to know that one day he would have to have surgery to replace one of his heart valves. Nevertheless, she is continually thankful that she has a secure job with health insurance and the access to cardiologists and regular tests. She says she is mindful of the situation of mothers and fathers in Haiti and elsewhere who are unable to find health care for their children.
I really appreciate her perspective. Illness is always hard, with the terrible uncertainty, medical costs, physical pain, and often loss. And yet, one of the blessings we have in the United States that often goes unrecognized is the security of knowing that at least we are receiving the best medical care available. Not perfect care, since physicians and other health care providers are human, and not readily accessible to all Americans, but by the world's perspective among the best available care for 2013. It doesn't make up for the hurt, pain, and loss, but nonetheless that assurance should be recognized for the blessing that it is, and that it is a blessing unavailable to the vast majority of human beings.
In Haiti, as in much of the world, many people do not have a hospital or even a clinic accessible to them (plug for our ministry here: this is why our house-to-house workers, or CHEs, are so important, as they teach prevention of illness and treatment of simple maladies!). When there is a health care center nearby, it may not be properly staffed and will have very few labs and other tests available.
Jean, a co-worker's brother, had to take his four-year-old son to the hospital in town this week after he was hit by a motorcycle (traffic accidents are very common here, please remember to pray for our safety!). He described the bloody exam tables, not cleaned from patient to patient. He said, "One of the things I've always been grateful for is that I've never had to go to a hospital myself." He reflected a little more and then added, "Or prison." We all laughed at that, and joked that we were glad he'd never committed a crime! :-)
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| As my mother knows, I ALWAYS wear a helmet now while riding. This picture was taken by Rhonda Hamilton before I'd purchased one. |
