Why I'm proud of my hospital

When leaving work on Friday, I ran into our chief of surgery. He and I have a jovial relationship, but he was somber.  He is Haitian.  I asked if he’d heard from his family.  He said he’d had contact with half of them, and was leaving for Haiti the next day to do what he could to help and hopefully hear about the rest of his loved ones.

Here is a man at a zenith in his career who came from humble beginnings.  He has never forgotten this, I have always respected that about him.  However, to see a man of his power so scared was humbling,  because in this kind of situation it does not matter.  Money isn’t going to get you anything in Haiti if there is no water, when there are no roads, when the situation is that bad.  Yet, we hope. He is traveling to Haiti with a medical team. They will treat whoever is brought to them. He hopes to find his family.

My heart bled talking to him. I told him I couldn’t go this weekend, but if there would be future trips, I’d go.  He said he’d be returning in a few weeks.  I’ll try to go, if they need me, and my boss will let me. When I entered the medical field, I always believed that I’d spend a fair portion of my time working in developing nations, but I chose a technology dependent specialty and travel is limited.  However, if my skills could help in Haiti, I’d go in an instant.  Because it is the right thing to do.

I’m proud that our head of surgery understands this and supports it with his own time and skill.