I know I've written a lot over the past month about Haiti, but I have two more posts about it that I'd like to share. This one represents what I shared during a lunch today held at the church that sent our team to Haiti. It explains how the trip affected me personally....
I didn’t have many expectations going into our trip to Haiti last month, and I certainly didn’t think I would be affected emotionally in any way. I thought I was too mature for something like that. In my mind, I already understood that there were incredible poverty and need; and because of that, I resolved to be nothing more than an objective observer as we drove through the streets of Port-au-Prince. I would find out later that week, however, and especially after the trip, that I would be more affected than I realized.
Interestingly, the impact Haiti had on me came just as much from what I’d read about it as it did from what I saw. I had been reading a book about a doctor whose goal was to eradicate tuberculosis and other diseases in the poorest part of Haiti; and although his organization created a hospital whose quality would compare to those in the United States, it was the doctor’s unapologetic commitment to the poor there that inspired me most.
I had read through about half the book when we left for Haiti, and so without knowing it, medicine was already on my mind. Then, late in the week we were there, we had the privilege of visiting a hospital housing children with HIV, tuberculosis, and skin diseases, among other illnesses. I had never been exposed to sicknesses as life-threatening and as widespread in Haiti as these. It was then, I think, that my dispassionate attitude toward Haiti began to break down.
The degree to which I was affected, however, wasn’t immediately clear to me. Upon returning, I fully expected to return to life as I knew it before our trip. I was wrong. I read through the rest of the book, and as I did, a seed entered my mind that perhaps there was some way I could personally help address the needs we saw. It occurred to me then that maybe I could help medically. My plan, though not serious at first, was to go back one day as a doctor.
Now, you have to understand that studying medicine was never something I’d even thought about for my life, let alone given it serious consideration. My strengths have always come from the right side of the brain, involving writing and reading more than math and science. To consider a career in medicine was monumental to begin with. Then I thought about how I would pay for my education, and it occurred to me that I couldn’t. I needed a way to pay for it, but I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by debt, especially if my end goal was to be back in Haiti, where I wouldn’t be earning money to repay student loans.
Then I remembered that the military will pay for most, if not all of your education with a commitment to the service; so I thought that the most financially stable way to become a physician—or a physician’s assistant—is to join the navy. Here, then, was another commitment I had never considered making. At no point in my life did I ever think about joining the military.
After all of this churned in my mind, I settled on a plan: when it’s feasible in the next few months, I’m going to train in a three-month program to become a clinical medical assistant. If I find that I like medicine and that it’s possible for me, I plan to join the navy by the end of summer next year so I can train as a physician or physician’s assistant (unless I’m awarded a scholarship through the National Health Service Corps). Eventually, I would join a non-profit like Hands and Feet or Partners in Health to serve in Haiti. It might sound crazy to change my life in such a substantial way after reading one book and spending one week in Haiti, but I have to say that I haven’t felt this passionate about anything in a very long time.
I didn’t have many expectations going into our trip to Haiti last month, and I certainly didn’t think I would be affected emotionally in any way. I thought I was too mature for something like that. In my mind, I already understood that there were incredible poverty and need; and because of that, I resolved to be nothing more than an objective observer as we drove through the streets of Port-au-Prince. I would find out later that week, however, and especially after the trip, that I would be more affected than I realized.
Interestingly, the impact Haiti had on me came just as much from what I’d read about it as it did from what I saw. I had been reading a book about a doctor whose goal was to eradicate tuberculosis and other diseases in the poorest part of Haiti; and although his organization created a hospital whose quality would compare to those in the United States, it was the doctor’s unapologetic commitment to the poor there that inspired me most.
I had read through about half the book when we left for Haiti, and so without knowing it, medicine was already on my mind. Then, late in the week we were there, we had the privilege of visiting a hospital housing children with HIV, tuberculosis, and skin diseases, among other illnesses. I had never been exposed to sicknesses as life-threatening and as widespread in Haiti as these. It was then, I think, that my dispassionate attitude toward Haiti began to break down.
The degree to which I was affected, however, wasn’t immediately clear to me. Upon returning, I fully expected to return to life as I knew it before our trip. I was wrong. I read through the rest of the book, and as I did, a seed entered my mind that perhaps there was some way I could personally help address the needs we saw. It occurred to me then that maybe I could help medically. My plan, though not serious at first, was to go back one day as a doctor.
Now, you have to understand that studying medicine was never something I’d even thought about for my life, let alone given it serious consideration. My strengths have always come from the right side of the brain, involving writing and reading more than math and science. To consider a career in medicine was monumental to begin with. Then I thought about how I would pay for my education, and it occurred to me that I couldn’t. I needed a way to pay for it, but I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by debt, especially if my end goal was to be back in Haiti, where I wouldn’t be earning money to repay student loans.
Then I remembered that the military will pay for most, if not all of your education with a commitment to the service; so I thought that the most financially stable way to become a physician—or a physician’s assistant—is to join the navy. Here, then, was another commitment I had never considered making. At no point in my life did I ever think about joining the military.
After all of this churned in my mind, I settled on a plan: when it’s feasible in the next few months, I’m going to train in a three-month program to become a clinical medical assistant. If I find that I like medicine and that it’s possible for me, I plan to join the navy by the end of summer next year so I can train as a physician or physician’s assistant (unless I’m awarded a scholarship through the National Health Service Corps). Eventually, I would join a non-profit like Hands and Feet or Partners in Health to serve in Haiti. It might sound crazy to change my life in such a substantial way after reading one book and spending one week in Haiti, but I have to say that I haven’t felt this passionate about anything in a very long time.
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