Embrace Every Moment: March 2012

10 Principles to live by for the week...and always <3

The Pier in Monte Cristi, Dominican Republic. Beautiful.

I taught this Mom how to do some home-stretching for her 14-year old daughter with several congenital deformities. Their gratitude was indescribable.

Individuals walking back into Haiti after going to the open market in Dajabon. Yes, those are live chickens he is carrying. And yes, the woman on the right is barefoot.

Men pushing a wagon of ice across the Dominican-Haitian boarder. This was the largest wagon seen, I also saw smaller amounts being pushed across in wheel-barrels. Most was covered in sawdust to try and keep it from melting in the 85* weather. Most of the individuals did not have shoes. Some did not even have shirts.

a beautiful flower outside the PT clinic in Mao, Dominican Republic

Haitians walking across the boarder into the Dominican Republic and the Dajabon Market

The PT team who worked at the Mao clinic with some of the staff there. (A second PT team worked in a clinic in Monte Cristi)

Occupational Therapy students and Dr. Maria Colmer, OT, work to make splints for a patient in Mao, Dominican Republic

Me, working with a young man who had been hit by a motor cycle.

View from my first plane ride- the DR is getting close!

A young boy paints El Morro at an art school in Monte Cristi, DR

In the evening, we played with local children. This group of girls were amazing...and one evening we played with a bunch of tennis balls (multiple, made up games!) for over an hour!

The clock tower in Monte Cristi, made and designed by the same individual who designed the Eiffel Tower.

Love this little girl <3

These three links are to videos of my time at the Dominican-Haitian boarder on the morning of March 9, 2012.
The boarder is open on Friday mornings, allowing for the Haitians to come and gather the supplies they will need for the following week from the open market in Dajabon.
The video does not do justice to the magnitude of poverty I witnessed nor to the intense desperation on so many faces, or the experience itself.

Walking Through Dajabon Market, March 9, 2012

Dominican- Haitian Boarder, Dajabon Market, March 9, 2012

Dajabon Market, March 9, 2012

I've officially been back from the Dominican Republic for over a week. It was a week of incredible adjustment; it is interesting how you can go through more of a culture shock when coming back into The States than you did leaving them. The DR is a place unlike anywhere else I have ever experienced; what I saw, what I was a part of, what I felt- it has all forever changed me. I know there are people out there who believe that we should only assist those in our own country, and that until everyone here has received what they need, here is the only place we should help. To a point, that used to be me. The DR changed that completely. While there are so many people in the United States that we need to continually reach out to, we cannot have our blinders on and pretend that we are the only ones who matter. We are all God's children- we are all brothers and sisters. God calls us to love one another as He has loved us.

I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:40

Hugs United, the group from SFU, worked with an international non-profit called OutRreach360, whose main mission is to teach children in these undeserved countries English, with the hopes that the education will open up doors to a life they would otherwise never have the ability to obtain. I was lucky enough to be a part of the Hugs team that does something a little bit different in our time in the DR- I was a part of the rehab team, treating and teaching in a physical therapy clinic in Mao, Dominican Republic.
At the clinic in Mao, I was blessed with the opportunity to not only work with incredible peers, but also treat a number of amazing individuals alongside the therapists from Mao. In the four days in the clinic, we saw everything from stroke patients to patients with osteoarthritis, congenital deformities, cerebral palsy, knee replacements, ankle sprains, cervical and lumbar problems, and many shoulder issues. The occupational therapists on our rehab team worked tirelessly all week, making an incredible number of splints and providing patients with ways to help ease their daily living. The physical therapy team provided exercise programs, did countless evaluations, and provided the staff at Mao education on how to improve their day to day treatments. We had three incredible translators with us each day; without them, there is no way we would have accomplished anything close to what we did.

One of my special patients of the week was an older woman, who is pictured above. She came in with an unclear diagnosis but with complaints of knee pain. Through evaluation, we determined that she most likely was suffering from knee osteoarthritis. I was given the opportunity to, under the supervision of a DPT who was serving with us, develop her exercise/treatment program for the week; I also fitted her for a cane and incorporated gait and stair training into her treatment. By the end of the week, she was saying how much better her pain level was and how much easier she was getting around. She told me, through a translator, several times that week, that I was the answer to her prayers. Once we returned home and were sharing photographs, one of the translators told me this- "One of my favorite parts of the week was when she was talking with one of the therapists (not telling me something to translate for you) and said "Thank God for her" twice. Good job Hillarie." Those were some of the most touching things to hear. The individuals we served were so incredibly grateful for everything that we did. Even the simplest things were not overlooked. The gratitude that was conveyed to us was simply incredible.

Brothers.

While working in the clinic in Mao, the rehabilitation team also worked with many pediatric patients. The difference in technology and medicine in their country from ours was profound. One little boy that an evaluation was done on had a severe deformity at his ankles (severe, extreme varus for those of you who have some medical background) to the point that he could not even bare weight or stand at 4 years old. He was being treated with acetocholine - something I am pretty sure we don't use at all here in the States. In the United States, a child of that age would likely have been seen and treated by multiple health care providers in an attempt to correct the positioning of his feet and ankles. This same little boy was truly just adorable, though. To do an assessment of him crawling, we, of course, had to get him to crawl; naturally, he didn't want to. Having absolutely nothing other than a reflex hammer to try and get his attention, it is what we resorted to. Once I got him to crawl to get it, it turned into a game. He would hand it to me, I would say gracias, and then he would respond- in his own, four year old language, de nada, and then quickly snatch it back. This went on for several minutes, and the entire time his 5 year old brother was watching quietly. As soon as I motioned for him to join us, however, he was right in and interacting. The brotherly bond those little boys shared was something that words cannot explain. The little brother could not play or run normally, but it was clear that did not matter. They shared a special friendship and a bond that was incredibly deep. Those boys were adorable, and a reminder of why I want to work with children.

Two of our awesome DPTs who oversaw the SPTs!

While in the Dominican Republic, we also had some 'down time' in the evenings, as well as on Sunday afternoon. On Sunday, we ventured down to the pier and sat, relaxed, and watched many of the locals swim in the ocean. It was a relaxing afternoon that helped you to see a bit of the culture of the DR~it was obvious that they look at life so much differently than we do. They were so relaxed, just hanging out, enjoying the sunshine and eachother's company. In the United States, if you were to see something like this, you would have thought every single person was on vacation. The US lifestyle could learn so much from these people. They seemed so happy all of the time. You pass them on the streets and they smile and say Hola. You treat them in the clinic and they are relaxed and not in a hurry, but instead want to make time to chat with you and have a conversation. The atmosphere down there is just so much more relaxed that it was so easy to fall into. I required no adjustment...it just fit. They live in the moment down there, they realize that today matters- this is it. That is something I really took to heart and am trying to remember in my day to day life back home. This is it. I am not guaranteed tomorrow, I am not guaranteed 2 hours from now~while I need to be aware of and plan for a future, I need to live and enjoy the now. It is so easy to get caught up in what is coming next- I am so guilty of that. I want Easter so I can go home, enjoy a break, ant then come back and graduate. So that I then can go to clinical and be on my own for eight weeks. After that, I have family vacation to look forward to....yada yada yada, so on and so forth. We even get caught up in the day to day- how many times a day do you hear someone say "Is it Friday yet?" If you take a step back and think for a second, a big part of you should want to scream at them (or yourself!) and go, "No- it isn't Friday. It is today. Right now, right here. I know you are tired, worn out, grumpy-whatever, but take a step back, find beauty in the now"

This is interesting to me, that it took the DR to remind me of this. Since I started blogging in January, I have had some focus on finding beauty in the little things life gives us. I have been working hard to do that these past few months, and have found a great joy in doing so. It truly helps to reduce stress levels and make for happier days. Yet, when I think about 'this is it', I realize I am so far from where I could be. I truly hope that, as I continue to try and just enjoy and live in the now, it will come easier and I will realize and truly see life's simple beauties that much clearer.


Anthony, center, one of his friends, and myself in the park

Speaking of simple beauties and the little things, one thing that we did nightly was play in the park across the street with the local children. One evening, I met a little boy named Anthony. Anthony spoke no English, and I spoke no Spanish. At first, the language barrier was a bit frustrating for me, but then, somehow, I began to teach him rock paper scissors. I truly am unsure how we figured it out, but after probably ten minutes (he was a very patient little boy, too!) he understood. For the next forty-five minutes or so, Anthony and I played a million and a half games of rock paper scissors. And the joy over learning a new game and receiving this attention (and probably the funny looking, English speaking girl haha)- that joy just shown on his face. It was so awesome to gap those barriers and just play. One of the principles of OutReach360, along with this is is, is Communicate Love. Another is be flexible and creative. This night, in the park with Anthony, both were achieved. In even such a simple game, the language barrier required a creativity all its own to teach, and the patience it took was truly an act of love (lets be honest, the only people I can be patient with are children...at least God helped me out there!).

Reina and Me

Another child who was in the park every evening also really touched me this week. Her name was Reina, and every night she would come looking for me and asking for me. She wanted just a hug and a bit of my attention- even just for 5 minutes before running off again. It was something simple, but I don't know why I was the one singled out for her. I do know that I feel like I got so much more out of the time I spent with her than I could possibly of ever given her. She was a beautiful little girl, about 12, and she will be someone who is continually in my prayers.

Another thing of beauty in the Dominican was the landscape itself. While their homes were often rundown, and there was garbage everywhere, the landscape itself was a thing of beauty. From the sunrises to the salt mines to the ocean and the view from the top of El Morro, which we hiked on Friday, the beauty of God's hand was astounding. Seeing the beauty of those things has helped me, upon returning home, to continue to see the beauty. So often, when we see the same trees and plants walking to class or driving to work everyday, things become ordinary and lose their beauty. It was seeing a new place that helped me to see my own surroundings in a new light.

On our final stretch of travel to the English Institute in Monte Cristi, where we stayed for the week, the song "Give Me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath came on my iPod. If you're not familiar, the chorus goes like this:

_Give me your eyes for just one second
give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for Humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
Ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me your eyes so I can see_

At the top of El Morro

It was the perfect song to hear at that time. All week I strove to see things with a totally open mind, so that, if God was supposed to be telling me or showing me something, I would be open to receiving it. Obviously, He shared to much with me. As I hiked to the top of El Morro and was able to look out over the landscape, the ocean, the beauty, Friday afternoon, I just took everything in and reflected on my life changing week. At the top of El Morro, and at various spots the entire way up, there are crosses that have been placed. While I am unsure of who placed them there, or if their placement has meaning, I know what they meant to me. As I hiked and reflected, there was a cross in site the entire time. The path was windy and had some loose gravel- if you weren't careful, you could have slipped and fallen. I realized something on that hike, though. It was very symbolic of both that week, and of life in general. You will see and experience so much. There will be beauty, but there will be those rough moments as well. No matter where you are- whether it is trying to focus to take the correct next step so you don't fall, or looking out over all of the wonderful things of life, or picking yourself back up after you stumble and roll that ankle, God is with you. He is in your heart and never loses site of you along the way. He watches out for you and loves you unconditionally.