The Poor Wretches

SO I sit on the porch of my big house, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Lately the news of Haiti's devastating earthquake dominates. I can't even finish the articles anymore.

The media tries to keep readership, of course, by sprinkling nuggets of hopefulness into the tales of mass graves and utter destruction, but it rings hollow.

Before the quake Haiti was the most godforsaken place there was; now it's gone to apocalyptic levels.

Dr. Barry's partner Patti is over there, as medical director of an urban search and rescue team. I'm worried about her, as the reports are coming in about desperate Haitians attacking rescuers, looking for food and water. Patti is tough, but this place seems out of control and understanding.

When D1 had her crash in September, an older Haitian American couple stopped to render help to her. They made sure no cars hit her disabled Volvo, and waited with her and comforted her until the paramedics came. They didn't leave their names.

In their honor, whoever the folks are, Wifey and I made a chai-multiple donation to the UM Med School's Global Initiative, which pays for UM docs to go to Haiti and provide care. It also helps buy supplies for them.

Still, I wonder what's to become of those poor wretches. As a government official noted in one of the articles I DID read, the Haitian government can't even bury the dead, let alone provide support and assistance to the living.

I've always read that in rehab, a patient has to hit rock bottom before he has a chance to recover. Maybe the same will hold true for these suffering folks in Haiti.