The Unlikely Relief Worker - The 2 of Me

Me and my family, June 5, 2010 (Conrad, Jake, my husband Rich, and Alex).

Sometimes I wonder how I end up wherever it is that I am. If someone told me a year ago I was going to be in Haiti, living in a tent with bugs and rats, in sweltering heat and humidity, I’m pretty sure I would have told them they were crazy; out of their minds. But here I am, recently returned from Haiti (for the second time), where I lived in a tent with bugs and rats and sweltering heat and humidity. I was also living without all my creature comforts and I have and enjoy many. I love my morning coffee; first thing, one teaspoon of sugar and half and half. It’s all I think about when my brain wakes up in the morning and for some reason, it’s hard to come by in Haiti. I love my skin products, my hot showers with clean water, my personal trainer and my concierge. I love my beautiful bed and my Frette sheets. I thank G-d every night because I am very grateful for my life. I also thank my husband. Frequently, I’ll turn to him at night and say, “Thank you for buying me this bed – I LOVE it!” And you can be sure, that little list I just gave you only scratches the surface. I’m spoiled. And to top it all off, it’s impossible to look good in Haiti. It’s a perpetual bad hair day and I always look dirty, hot and sweaty - not a good look.
The other me (April 14, 2010).

The Haiti thing is hard to explain, even for me. I can give you a lot of reasons: It’s a small country so it seems possible to affect a change, no matter how minuscule. It’s close. Unlike Africa that can take a day to get to, Haiti is a 3 ½ hour plane ride from New York. And I can do what I love to do more than anything else in the world and do it under the most challenging conditions imaginable – that’s appealing. But the truth is my passion for Haiti is more like any other passion or love; it is a mystery. The instrument that beats inside my chest that always mystifies me, directs my course. I can’t really explain it but I am driven, compelled by some inexplicable force, to help these people. It’s lucky for them but probably not so lucky for the other people in my life. It’s a difficult situation. Would it be right or fair if I simply said, “OK, I’ll just forget it”? I’m sure that is what a lot of people are hoping for.

Haiti is not the first time I have been captured by something. I think everyone who knows me knows my passions run pretty deep. My mothering, my need for cleanliness and order (makes 'Haiti' even more puzzling), my devotion to my friends, my devotion to my patients; are just a few examples of how committed I can be. How far can I go? Do you remember when my youngest son was sick? I’m quite sure the word “ferocious” and “obsessed” comes to mind. For better or for worse, it is my nature.