For the Price of a Cup of Coffee

The wonderful week of Semana Santa just ended, marked by Liz’s visit, vacation, lots of church services, and a politically and socially infused walk through colored sawdust pictures on the road. The walk went by the twelve stations of the cross and the religious leadership spoke of the way that dominant culture abuses women and tradition while politic(ian)s devalue the indigenous and the poor. Though the words were strong enough to be wielded by activists, unfortunately they didn’t talk very much about action. It made for an interesting walk, but nonetheless we decided to go cool down at around the 2 hour mark.

Aaron, a civil engineer volunteering with a bridge-building organization, accompanied us to Gracias for the days of vacation. One night he came down with a nasty case of food poisoning after which he felt bad enough that we took him to the hospital. We were directed around the hospital and into the doctor’s office where a nurse took a blood sample and hooked up an IV. While the IV flowed, a young man with a motorcycle accident mashed face arrived and was parked in the hallway in a wheelchair. Since we were in the doctor’s office, we got to hang out with him while he signed papers, gave directions and chatted with us. The doctor hooked another IV up to Aaron while he told us that he recognized us from the restaurant we had eaten at last night and how traditional culture like we have in La Campa is losing its place in big-city Gracias. He saw Liz’s bag on the floor and advised her not to put it there because the floor was very dirty. Too true, in the hall a nearly naked man with an ace-wraped leg and another painful-looking face was accompanied by drips of blood and several not-so-pleasant smells. Reassuringly Aaron’s needle had clearly come out of a new package and the whole IV setup was very clean.

While they did some tests to determine the cause of Aaron’s sickness, Liz and I walked to the park to hang out and get lunch. I felt a need to leave because we were just taking up space and looking at highly busted-up people in the hospital. We came back a couple hours later to be given several prescriptions with the explanation that only a couple of them could be given to us at the hospital, the rest we would have to buy. The doctor gave us the meds that he could plus a starting dose of the antibiotic to shoot into Aaron’s IV. Aaron got ready, I shook the doctor’s hand, and he sent us on our way. On the way out we paid the bill.

We were given immediate, caring, professional attention, two reenergizing IVs, various tests, a number of pills, a couple prescriptions, and a bed for 5 hours for the going price of a cup of coffee, 5 Lempiras ($0.27). Public health care is an incredible thing.