Why I've been a lousy blogger lately

Lemons from our tree

I'll admit it. I've been a lousy blogger. Not to give excuses, but just to blog about what has been going on, I offer the following.

What has been keeping me busy?

In no particular order:

Wondering how many times our car(s) can be hit by others before we ever get one dime of restitution (apparently it is more than eight).

Semi-supervising a big garden clean up.

Worrying about Arexy and what's going to happen to her children because she's pregnant again.

Wondering when the water will come back, wondering why rich Hondurans think that it is okay for their neighbors to pay for their water usage, and wondering why our patronato lets them.

Avoiding all news as much as possible and then worrying about what I'm missing.

Wondering if a teacher can really throw a 4th grader out of school for the rest of the year and fail him because he is misbehaving. And wondering why the mother doesn't worry.

Worrying about someone's residency status because she is in a big mess, precisely because she didn't listen to my advice and listened to a lying, thieving attorney instead.

Feeling guilty about all the blog articles I've started and not finished.

Worrying that my car which was wrecked in 2009 is still on the Honduran tax rolls and we can't get it off, even with an attorney and thousands spent on the task.

Trying to maintain my integrity, to be an honest and responsible citizen, when it would be so much easier and more beneficial not to.

Worrying about currency devaluation, the US financial mess, and future security.

Deconstructing my carefully crafted new blog bit by bit until there was almost nothing left and then reconstructing it.

Tearing my hair out over blog issues that are way beyond my level of competence. Inspecting every single line of my template for errors over and over again for two weeks, only to find out that it was a GOOGLE error in a standard gadget that was causing the problem! How's a blogger stand a chance between Google and MS Internet Explorer?

We've had a few successes:

Fighting with city hall. (We won, but discovered some scary things in the process.)

Redesigning someone else's sidewalk without being asked. (They loved it.)

Learning a ton about HTML and CSS coding. (Which I will promptly forget before the next time I need to use it again.)

Getting the Blogicito to work properly with MS Internet Explorer. (This one is major!)

Things that I've been grateful for recently:

A Honduran web designer who out of the blue offered to help me do something that Disqus told me couldn't be done! And it was done! So there, Disqus. Thanks, Rafael. You are an angel and a genius! God bless you for your kindness.

Sheep manure.

Being able to flush the toilet.

Lemons from our tree.

Being able to finish a load of laundry without having to clean out all the faucets in the house and run the washer empty first.

People who miss me when I'm not online for days at a time.

El Jefe, who shows amazing patience with my single-minded stubbornness.

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Anything in particular that strikes your fancy that you would like to hear more about?

Funeral day

After the Human Rights Commission on Friday, we went to the morgue to see if the autopsy had been performed and whether the body was ready to be released. It was, which meant that we had to go back to Arexy's house to pick up the casket and then back to the morgue − or carry the baby back home in a black garbage bag.

El Jefe had an important event to which he had committed and was already late, but I begged him to handle this. The people there had been very rude to me yesterday and I was so fearful about what kind of condition the body would be in. I was also afraid for Arexy to be subject to any more...well, to anything.

Additionally, Kenia told us that she didn't feel strong enough to dress the baby again. Since it had been 2 1/2 days since he died and the body wasn't embalmed, I didn't know if it would even be possible to dress the baby or if that could cause some damage. So I wanted J to ask the people at the morgue to dress him, or to at least wrap him in a blanket and place him in the casket, to show a little human decency.

Thankfully, they had dressed the baby again in the clothes and little hat that he had been wearing. J and Arexy had to deal with inefficient paperwork again and then we were done, hopefully forever, with the morgue.

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We planned for the burial at 2 p.m. I dropped J off at his appointment and we drove back to Arexy and Kenia's house where the baby was placed back on the table for viewing. I would have preferred to keep the casket closed at that point but it wasn't my place to say anything. Everyone commented about how beautiful he was and how he looked as if he was asleep. It wasn't true.

More and more people arrived until finally a little barrel-shaped woman arrived, looked around, and yelled, "What are you going to do with all these women? You better get some men to fill the grave!" Jeesh! Another thing that we didn't think about.

The hole was dug on Thursday, but now the hole would have to be refilled after the service. We were responsible for that. Kenia made some calls to make sure that we would have at least two men to help. Someone else mentioned that we also had to nail the coffin shut − another thing that I didn't know about. The coffin just had a lid, no hinges, no latch. I mention all of these details so that anyone else in a situation like this can be better prepared and more orgainized than we were.

El Jefe, who by then had arrived by taxi, called a worker we had at our house and told him to get a couple of shovels, a hammer, and some nails and bring them on his bicycle to meet us at the cemetery. And hurry! I also requested that he cut some flowers from the garden since most of the flowers from Wednesday night were looking pretty sad. He did a great job and brought a huge bouquet of every color.

Earlier in the day, I had remembered that we didn't have a cross or anything to mark the grave but with everything else we had to do, it seemed too late to get something made. However, someone had made a homemade cross for the grave as well as some palm frond decorations with paper flowers.

The cemetery is called San Isidro. It is the newer public cemetery a little way outside of town. It is not a manicured cemetery by any means, but I commented that it looked very pretty, with lots of colorful flowers, real and plastic, on most of the graves. I don't think that Arexy had seen it before and I think she was relieved and also thought that it looked nice.

All together, there were at least two dozen people including children at the cemetery. No one wanted to speak so J took charge and did a wonderful job, as he always does. He thanked God for giving us this baby but then choked up when he spoke of the baby's 19 days of life and had to stop for a minute or two to gain composure. Most of us were tearing up while we waited and Arexy was sobbing.

J always knows exactly the right things to say and he says them from the heart which is evident to everyone. Kenia also spoke, particularly thanking J and I for helping Arexy through this sad time. I wished she hadn't, but it was sweet to see and hear the acknowledgments of appreciation from the people there. I bowed my head thinking how sad it was that most poor people do not have the means to bury their loved ones unless friends help out. Apparently everyone knew that we were helping Arexy. Not too surprising, I guess.

When they were through speaking, I mentioned the nails but the barrel-shaped woman said, no, that type of coffin didn't need to be nailed. There was a bit of a discussion about whether or not to nail which J solved by saying that this should be the mother's decision, to which everyone agreed. Arexy decided no nails.

Unfortunately, the poor baby had to suffer one last indignity. When lowering the casket, one of the men let the rope slip and the casket fell the last foot or so to the bottom, the lid fell off, and the baby's feet slipped out of the casket. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Another man jumped into the grave, and quickly re-situated the baby and put the lid back on. Arexy started crying again and everyone was horrified that that had happened.

We all threw a little dirt into the grave and then one of the men and a sweet little boy of about 10 years old solemnly did most of the filling. Arexy's father helped with the last bit.

The cross was put into place and all the flowers were arranged over the grave. It looked beautiful and Arexy felt good about it.

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We drove back to Arexy's house on the other side of town for the fourth time in one day. The atmosphere was much less tense. Everyone had been quite concerned about the length of time it had taken to bury the baby. Generally burial is done within 24 hours since embalming is not commonly performed.

Arexy's father in particular had been complaining to her that she should have buried him sooner and should not have requested the autopsy, and basically that she should not be listening to us. I didn't realize this since the man never spoke to us the entire day, which I did think was odd, except that he wasn't speaking to anyone else either.

I want to make it clear that we don't want, need, or expect thanks from anyone, but I have to point out that this man, who is the one person who should have been helping and supporting Arexy, did absolutely not one thing to help her, either financially or emotionally.

In fact, he did just the opposite, we found out later, trying to make her feel stupid about the decisions that she was making. Arexy's mother abandoned her when she was small. She left for the US and Arexy never heard from her again. I think that her father has abused her and has been a terrible influence on her life. He is the person most responsible for her timidity and lack of self esteem. Thank goodness she has Kenia to rely on and to encourage her.

We stayed around for an hour or so chatting. The woman who had originally recommended Arexy to work for us was there. I reminded her of what she had told us about 16 months ago − "La Ceiba women don't want to work, but I'll see if I can find someone from somewhere else." We all laughed about that − well, the La Ceiba women maybe less so. ;-) She was impressed that I remembered but I told her about some of the experiences we had had with women who just disappeared after one day or one week of work and never came back again. "I don't understand! I'm not mean to workers, I swear!", I defended myself. Arexy defended me, too, with a smile and a nod, and then laughed and told them how I would ask her every Friday if she was coming back on Monday. "Are you sure?" I would ask. For some reason, they all thought that was hilarious.

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I've reclassified all of these related articles under "Arexy's story" to make it easier for anyone who is joining in late.

Visit to the Human Rights Commission

Yesterday, Friday, June 18, was another busy and stressful day. In the morning, we went to the Regional Delegate for Human Rights to file a denuncia (formal complaint) against the public health care system of Honduras − at least that is who I wanted to file the complaint against. If you have been following Arexy's saga*, I think you'll agree that the entire system is at fault.

If at any point along the way a doctor or nurse had spoken up for this baby in a timely manner and demanded that something be done, the baby might still be alive. Hospital politics, the lack of medicine or blood, incompetence, the hospital worker strike in San Pedro, and the general neglect all played a part. But the attorney mentioned that he would have to file individual complaints against everyone after the investigation.

CONADEH (Comisionado Nacional de Derechos Humanos de Honduras) is the organization headed by Dr. Ramón Custodio, who some of you may be familiar with as he has been very outspoken about international interference in Honduras. I didn't know what to expect but was pleasantly surprised. Attorney Juan José Arita, the regional human rights delegate, just couldn't have been more kind. He was polite, interested, and compassionate. He treated Arexy and Kenia (who was witness to much of the activity of the first days and had talked to some of the doctors personally) with complete respect. It was a good and validating experience for all of us.

He was very complementary about my summary of events. He read it aloud (paused and seemed to frown once or twice, possibly at the bad Spanish grammar or poor choice of translated words) and stopped to ask questions every now and then. He said that it was very helpful. He still interviewed Arexy in depth for more than an hour about every step of the 19 days of the life of her child. He listened with patience when Kenia or I interrupted to add some important (we thought) fact that Arexy was forgetting to mention. He typed every word.

He told us that this would be a lengthy process as it will require technical medical investigation − I think meaning that was something that the Human Rights Commission was not equipped with and would need to get outside assistance. It is a scary thought to think that technical assistance will probably come from the very same public health care system doctors.

Abogado Arita was also forthright in telling us that often nothing can be proven in these cases because the "colleagues" cover up for each other, even when they know that one of their colleagues is incompetent or negligent. He said that much will depend upon whether or not the doctors who informed Arexy and Kenia of the botched surgery and negligence will maintain their stories or will backtrack when faced with testifying against a colleague.

He was very interested in the other, similar case that I had been told about and wants to investigate that case also. I promised that I would try to get more information.

I wanted him to know that we weren't going to give up. When he was finished with the interviews, I told him that it was too late to help Arexy and her baby and that it would be much easier and more comfortable for all of us to stay home and do nothing, but that Arexy was here, going through this pain, to try to make sure that something like this does not happen to any other babies. Of course, I only got halfway through that speech before I was choking up and struggling to remember the right words in Spanish. Arexy and Kenia were nodding in agreement and crying, too. He patiently and solemnly listened and said that he understood and would do everything he can.

The electric power went out before he could print the denuncia for Arexy to sign. He will call us to return to sign it later. He had Arexy sign my summary instead so that he could start requesting the medical records.

After we left, I said "That is how human beings should be treated!" Kenia said, "Yeah! Even if you are poor."

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* For all of the articles about Arexy's baby's story, see the article category 'Arexy's Story'.

For a summary of the errors made by the public health care system, see 'A tragic ending to the baby story'.

Events of the day the baby died

I'm going to back up to the events of Wednesday, June 16, for this article, because there are some things that I think you should know to understand the whole picture. Get your tissues ready.


We left for San Pedro about 4 p.m., picking up Arexy's sister-in-law Kenia on our way. We thought that Arexy might feel more comfortable with family with her. So with Kenia and a tiny blue casket tucked into the back seat, we sped off to San Pedro.

Kenia talked the whole three hours of the trip there, and basically no one spoke for most of the trip back to La Ceiba. Arexy was devastated.

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Some of the things that we learned, mostly from Kenia on the trip there...

Arexy's baby died shortly after midnight but she was not informed until 'visiting hour' (11 a.m - 12 p.m.) the next day when she arrived and found that the baby's incubator was empty. After trying to find out where her baby was, she was told that he was dead and she was shown a paper-wrapped and taped up bundle that was the body of her dead baby.

What I didn't know was that after the baby's second surgery, he was kept in intensive care. Prior to that Arexy was able to stay with the baby 24 hours per day. From the day of the surgery onward, she was only allowed to visit him for an hour per day. So she really didn't know what kind of attention he was getting or really even how he was doing. She was continually told that he was "delicate" but doing fine.

Even though she was staying in the hospital and they had her phone number, no one called her, no one officially informed her, no one even told her how or why her baby had died, and the doctor never talked to her.

There were no sympathetic words and no offer of a few minutes in private to hold her baby to say goodbye − the baby that she has never been allowed to hold since she turned over his care to Hospital Atlántida on May 31.

She was only told that she could have the body when someone came to pick it up. She tried to call me several times. I had been leaving my phone on 24-hours a day but my battery went dead. The phone was turned upside down and I didn't notice it was dead! Of all days for that to happen. I felt so guilty.

She tried to arrange for transportation back to La Ceiba at the hospital but didn't have enough money. She had spent almost all of her money − a significant amount − on medicines for the baby which the hospital could not provide.

She called her sister-in-law Kenia and told her that she couldn't get in touch with me and that she was going to have to bring the baby home on the bus. She cried, "He's wrapped in paper like a loaf of bread!" Kenia told her that it was against the law to take a dead body on the bus, so she would have to wrap him in a blanket and pretend that he was still alive. Kenia told us, "I know you aren't supposed to, but what can a person do if you are poor?" [Are you crying yet? I can hardly see the computer screen as I write this.]

Kenia told her to wait while she tried to call Arexy's father. Her father said that he was busy and couldn't do anything. The baby's father couldn't/wouldn't help either. Then she tried to call me again with no success. Then she called Arexy back and said "what about el dueño (El Jefe), don't you have his phone number?" Yes, exclaimed the distraught Arexy, who for some reason had not thought of calling El Jefe, who was in town at the time.

By then I had discovered my dead phone and had plugged it in to charge, so I found out the tragic news about 3:00 p.m. Now what to do? Neither of us have had experience with arranging funerals or burials in Honduras and didn't know what the procedures are. I suggested that he go to a funeral home to make arrangements, since that is what you do in the US. That's all I know.

The funeral home was going to charge L.6,500 just to go to San Pedro to pick up the baby, thousands more for a cheap-looking casket, and thousands more for the funeral. Well, it turns out that procedures are quite a bit different than in the US − it isn't required that a funeral home transport the body, so J decided that we should bring them home. He went to a couple of places and was able to find a nice baby casket that was lined with white lace.

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We got to the hospital about 7:30 p.m. which meant that poor Arexy had been waiting about 8 hours to leave the hospital. Of course, since it was not visiting hours, the guard did not want to let us in. EVERYTHING in Honduras has to be a huge struggle. EVERYTHING. And everyone who has the tiniest bit of power will try to exercise it over you.

After explaining the entire situation to two or three different people, of course it turned out that it was the wrong gate. After explaining again at the next gate, the second guard let us in and sent us to the morgue, which of course we couldn't find and when we did, of course no one was there. Then when we did find someone, of course they directed us to walk around the hospital (outside in the rain, because, of course, we were not allowed to enter the building). And of course, we ended up back in the original part where we had tried to enter to start with.

About half way across the second parking lot, we saw Arexy, standing outside, holding her little bag of clothes, the diaper bag, and her dead baby.

Kenia yelled her name and started running to her. Arexy started sobbing uncontrollably when she saw us. Who knows how many hours she had been waiting with the baby. We hugged. We cried. Even El Jefe couldn't help but to shed a few tears at the inhuman treatment of this mother and baby. We turned around and headed back around the hospital to where the car was parked.

I think Arexy was surprised and pleased with the casket. After we got to the car, Kenia took the baby, placed him into the casket, carefully unwrapped the paper, and dressed him before we left the parking lot. We were standing in the mist in the dark parking lot, crying by then at the indignities that this poor little baby had suffered.

We suffered more indignation trying to leave the hospital parking lot as the guard was expecting some piece of paper that a previous guard had already taken from Arexy. Without the paper, he was at a complete loss as to what to do and didn't want to open the gate to let us leave. On the verge of completely blowing up, I gave him the handwritten paper with the baby's name and time of death that had been taped to his chest. It wasn't the right one, but it was paper.

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Other ways that funeral arrangements are different in Honduras is that the body is often displayed at home, where visitors are received around the clock and coffee, soft drinks, and sweet bread is served. If the family can afford it, other food might be provided. El Jefe asked Arexy if she wanted to take the baby home and she said yes.

I realized later that she was going to be much more comfortable with this arrangement than she would have been at a funeral parlor anyway. It was what they were used to and also was much more convenient for their friends to drop by rather than having to take buses or taxis to town.

J started talking about food and such and I asked "for tomorrow?" and they all said no, that people would be there tonight! I couldn't imagine trying to find food at midnight in La Ceiba so I asked if we could get Kenia's mother to buy whatever was necessary and we would pay her back when we got there. The call was made.

We arrived in La Ceiba at 11:30 p.m. and there were several people and children there. Some ladies were cooking chickens and making coffee. A table was set up on the terraza, covered in a white cloth waiting for the casket. Some of the older children went out and came back with beautiful flower arrangements, the blooms snatched from neighborhood gardens, shown in the photo above. It was a very touching scene, seeing so much dignity and caring among such poverty.

Arexy went straight to her room and lay prostrate on the bed sobbing. We stayed for about an hour and then said goodbye, leaving her in the hands of several kind and caring women who understood better than anyone the indignities and injustices suffered by poor women in Honduras. We know because some of them told us their stories.

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The next day, I was going to ask Arexy if she wanted to fight back.

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For all of the articles about Arexy's baby's story, see the article category 'Arexy's Story'.

For a summary of the errors made by the public health care system, see 'A tragic ending to the baby story'.

The start of the fight for justice

Ministerio Publico Office (District Attorney)
but the wrong office for filing a complaint

The day started today with El Jefe going to the municipalidad to get a permission to bury the baby in a public cemetery. Then he had to find some guys to dig the hole and take them there with some tools to do it. Funerals are do-it-yourself affairs in Honduras unless you are rich.

Meanwhile, I drafted up a sequence of events that I hoped would help us to focus on the important points of the past 19 days when we filed the denuncia (formal complaint) with the Ministerio Publico (district attorney). I was able to do that from my blog articles and the additional things I learned yesterday. It came in VERY handy, though the translation to Spanish was....well, not very good, I'm sure. I didn't have time to ask anyone to review and correct it. El Jefe said that there were errors but that it was understandable.

I also asked for help on Facebook and received some guidance that was very helpful. As I suspected, I was told that we had to get them to perform an autopsy on the baby, which the San Pedro hospital failed to do. Especially helpful was finding out that the San Pedro hospital broke the law by not performing an autopsy − which I had to point out a couple of times to get action from the Ministerio Publico (MP).

When I told J what we needed to do, he said, "You do know that this could expose us personally to retaliation? Are you willing to accept that?" I said, "Yes, I know but we've talked before that until people are willing to put themselves at risk, nothing is going to change in Honduras. I'm willing to risk it and I hope you are, too." He was. He is my hero. I have to admit that almost 9 years in Honduras has drilled that "what's the use?" attitude into me pretty soundly, but not this time.

So many readers have thanked us for what we have done for Arexy. Up until today I really didn't believe that we had accomplished anything for her. Today I know that we did. I'm not sure that her denuncia even would have been accepted if we hadn't been there to explain/clarify/insist. At one point, a clerk said she couldn't file the complaint because Arexy didn't know the doctor's first name. I said that the doctor never told her his first name and they could get it from the medical records (which they are requesting from both hospitals). The clerk really wanted to exercise her power over Arexy, but had to admit the logic of what I was telling her. I'm fairly certain that we wouldn't have gotten the autopsy. Maybe the strain of listening to my poor Spanish wore them down. I even told the Fiscal that Arexy's case was already getting international attention.

I'm proud to say that I managed to keep my cool today, despite the rudeness, callousness, and outrageousness of some of the things that were said today. (One example − that we needed to take the baby's body back to San Pedro to get the autopsy done!) I even surprised El Jefe who has been trying for 9 years to teach me that in Honduras, "when you lose your temper, you lose the battle".

Centro Integrado de Trabajo, the right place

The one bright light of hope today was the Coordinadora de Fiscales, who came to ask Arexy a few questions, exclaimed "Que barbaridad!" (about the treatment she had received), and offered a kind expression of condolence to Arexy. Arexy and I both lost it then and started crying − I tearfully told her that she was the first and only person throughout this ordeal who has expressed any kindness or human compassion toward the grieving mother.

I said that this was a day that Arexy should have been with her family and friends and grieving for her baby and instead we had spent four hours there fighting for justice. I told her firmly, "Vamos a luchar." The attorney put her hand on my shoulder and said "Van a luchar con nosotros!" (You're going to fight along with us!). She gave us hope.

The MP sent about 10 representatives from the police, the fiscal, forensics, the criminal investigations unit, and possibly others to pick up the baby's body. El Jefe went with them (Arexy, Kenia, and I had to stay to continue to wait to file the denuncia).

He said that they were very thorough, respectfully examining the body, taking photos, asking questions and that at least six of them were taking detailed notes. One commented to J that the body had some suspicious damage, including an injured foot (?). Additionally, the tiny opening that had been made in the baby's neck to administer blood was now a huge gash of about two inches. The baby was emaciated, looking like a premature baby of at most 5 pounds, though he weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces at birth.

I'm just too exhausted mentally and emotionally to give you all the details, but we persevered today. The autopsy will be done tomorrow, though the forensic doctor initially refused to perform it and had to be ordered by the MP to do it. I'm taking notes (and names) as we go along.

We will start again tomorrow by going to the Human Rights Commission to file a formal complaint. I hope that they will show a little more compassion and human decency than we saw today or yesterday.

To all of you who have written, I thank you. I read everything but haven't had a chance to answer anyone yet. Thank you for your prayers. Now we could use some prayers for strength because the system is designed to wear us down and demoralize us into inaction.

A tragic ending to the baby story

Arexy's baby died today. I don't have any details. We were called by Arexy's sister-in-law who said that Arexy needed financial help to bring the baby back to La Ceiba for burial. J is buying a little casket right now and we are going to pick them up in San Pedro. Arexy was going to bring him on the bus.

When we talked to Arexy last night, she was doing very well and she thought that the baby was also. She had promised once again that she would go to the breast milk bank today.

Bad things happen, and sometimes there is no one to blame. But this poor little baby never had a chance against the medical incompetence.

Mistake number one was that Hospital Atlántida sent Arexy home with the baby on Friday, May 28, six hours after he was born, even though he would not nurse, had not defecated, and was obviously in distress -- in violation of standard maternity procedures that have been in effect in developed countries for at least 50 years.

Mistake number two was that the emergency room at Hospital Atlántida turned Arexy away on Sunday night, May 30, when she brought the baby back screaming in pain two days after he was born, even though she told them that he had not nursed since he was born.

Mistake number three was that on May 31, the hospital assigned an incompetent surgeon to operate on his tiny little intestine.

Mistake number four was that the tube was not inserted properly into the baby's stomach preventing the toxins from draining from his body and nobody noticed it or did anything about it for 10 days.

Mistake number five was that the hospital waited until June 9, ten days after the botched surgery, to send him to a specialist in San Pedro Sula. Meanwhile, his intestine was leaking into his body.

Throughout the baby's stay at Hospital Atlántida, Arexy was assured that the baby was doing fine. I really don't know how the baby's care or the quality of the surgery was in San Pedro, but Arexy believed that it was much better and more caring than Hospital Atlántida.

I was informed that a gringo charity hospital in Balfate is caring for a child right now whose intestines were also butchered by a doctor at Hospital Atlántida. Coincidence? I think not.

Baby is recovering

Continuation of the saga of a newborn baby started here.


Baby had his second surgery on Saturday. Arexy sounded very tired and wasn't very talkative so I didn't have much news to report. I hope that she was just tired and not that she didn't want to talk about her worries.

Yesterday and today we talked to her again. She sounded much better and says that the doctor has said that the baby is in delicate condition but doing okay. The doctor raged about Hospital Atlántida allowing Dr. Azcona to do surgery on the baby in La Ceiba when (according to the San Pedro doctor) he does not know what he is doing.

The doctor said that the baby's intestines were leaking into his body, hence the huge amount of liquid that spurted out of the baby when the tube was finally inserted properly. He said a strange thing that I don't understand: He said that the baby's butt and leg were "getting hard". I don't know what that means or whether that condition has alleviated since the second surgery.

I suggested that she ask the doctor if he was going to file a formal denuncia against Dr. Azcona because he is the only one who can document the negligence. I know that Arexy will never ask him and I'm 100% sure that the doctor won't do it, so this doctor will continue to harm patients and butcher babies.

It isn't enough to rage about doctors harming or killing patients, but that is what happens here in Honduras. Anyone who knows that doctors or nurses are incompetent and does nothing about it is just as guilty in my opinion. It is time to stop worrying about someone's pride or reputation and start worrying about the lives lost. It is time to stop hiding the dirty secrets and do something about it!

Arexy doesn't know how long the baby will be in the hospital but the doctor has told her that he will not send him back to Hospital Atlántida for recuperation, thank God! I was prepared to hire an attorney to protect the baby's rights if that was even hinted at. I should be looking around for an attorney anyway since Dr. Azcona will probably sue me for bringing to light what he has done. I think a human rights investigation is in order.

It sounds like Arexy's breast milk is starting to dry up and she won't be able to feed the baby until tomorrow or Wednesday (5 days after his second surgery). They have a milk bank at the San Pedro hospital and I urged Arexy to go there, that maybe they could help her, show her what she needs to do. I hope it isn't too late. She promised she would go there today, but when I talked to her about noon, she hadn't been there yet. She promised again that she would go. This is really crucial because she could never afford to buy baby formula without help, and knowing her, she would cut corners, use powdered milk or rice water and the baby would end up malnourished.

Baby does not have a name yet. The baby's father wanted one name and Arexy's father wanted another, so she couldn't decide. I think that shows a little about her personality. The baby's father is really not so much in Arexy's life or the baby's, sad to say.

Surgery day, not

I called Arexy about 12:30 p.m. to find out how the baby's surgery went, but there was no surgery. She said that it was postponed and mentioned a strike. I asked her what kind of a strike and she said, "Well, a information meeting." Those are the code words for strike without a strike. Teachers' unions are famous for that. Last year they had two or three information meetings a week. Thankfully for the patients, she said that the hospital workers aren't all gone.

Tal vez mañana.

(Maybe tomorrow.)


Update: I forgot to mention that the baby received blood and is getting some kind of medication in his IV, maybe antibiotic. So maybe they are trying to build him up before the surgery.


This article is an update on the shameful saga that began here.

Next: The baby is recovering

Good news - Bad news in San Pedro

Continued from here.

Arexy and the baby arrived in the San Pedro Sula public hospital yesterday and he was examined by a doctor pretty quickly. The doctor assured her that the baby's condition was not 'muy grave' (very serious or grave). That was a huge relief for her − and for us, too.

On the way home from the hospital earlier in the afternoon, I turned to El Jefe and said, "I know that I should try to be positive, to hope for the best...." Wahhhh − I burst into tears. "....but I just can't!" J said, "I know. I can't either. They've done something to that baby and that's why they sent him away."

I lamented for the 100th time that Arexy did not call us for help when the baby was in trouble and the hospital turned them away or that I couldn't convince her to move the baby out of the hospital sooner. I cried again thinking of what it must be like to think that you or your child are not worthy of decent medical care, that private hospitals are "for persons of a higher level, not for me", to be so beaten down by the caste system that you don't fight for your child.

I tried to call Arexy about 6 p.m. but got no answer. I tried not to even think about what that might mean. I called my doctor again to see if he had talked to the baby's doctor. The doctor had not returned his call. J called Arexy about 8 p.m. and got the full report. She was quite animated. She said the baby was getting so much more attention than he did at Hospital Atlántida. The nurses checked him frequently, and the doctor came around a few times, too. She said it was cleaner and nicer than Hospital Atlántida in La Ceiba.

She said that the hospital even had a place for parents to stay and that they gave her food. They also treated her much better than they had in La Ceiba. But she stays with the baby instead of using the sleeping facilities.

She said that the baby had had a tube in his mouth to his stomach but that not much of anything had been draining. It turns out that the tube was not inserted properly in La Ceiba and as soon as the doctor in San Pedro inserted the tube, the baby started gushing blackish liquid. That must have been really frightening, but it must have been a good thing to get that stuff out of him. Overall, we were much encouraged compared to the horrible thoughts we had had earlier in the day.

But - once again, a but. Always a but. Today she was told by the doctor that the surgery was done improperly by Dr. Azcona in La Ceiba and that they will have to do surgery to repair his intestine tomorrow. So, you see that I was right. They had harmed the baby and didn't have the decency to tell his mother. I guess whichever doctor ordered that he be sent to San Pedro may have saved his life. But I wonder if it needed to take 10 days from the day of the surgery to know that something was wrong.

We'll call her around noon and I promise to report back. Please pray for the baby.


Next: Surgery Day, not

Arexy and the baby go to San Pedro

This photo is Arexy's baby boy at 13 days old. I was able to snap two quick photos in the ambulance before he was taken to San Pedro Sula. I couldn't get close enough to get a good photo without tripping over feet in the ambulance and the driver was revving the engine to leave.

Arexy was so happy on Monday afternoon, when they finally allowed her to start feeding the baby, 11 days after his birth and 8 days after his surgery. She assured me that all was well, that he seemed normal, was eating normally, pooping normally (after the intestinal surgery). He had no more fever.

The doctors and nurses wouldn't tell her anything about when he would be able to go home but I was assuming maybe by Friday, or at least by next Monday. We called daily to check on her and made her promise to call us when the baby was ready to go home so she wouldn't have to take him in a bus or taxi. Everything seemed fine.

After the initial medically negligent treatment by Hospital Atlántida, everything was looking bright. The baby survived the worst efforts of the public hospital and was going to thrive.

But (there is always a but, isn't there?), Arexy called El Jefe in a panic around 1:30 on Wednesday saying that she was going to San Pedro with the baby. The 'licenciado', whoever the heck that is, told her that she had 30 minutes to go home to get some money and clothes, because they were sending the baby to a specialist at the public hospital in San Pedro. They did not tell Arexy why, what was wrong with the baby, nothing! Just that they have specialists in San Pedro that they don't have here in La Ceiba. Why he needed to be seen by a specialist was a mystery.

He called me with this news and we both panicked − I'll tell you why in a minute. I said to come and get me now and to call Arexy back to tell her we were coming. On the way I called her to ask her not to let them take her baby, to insist that they give her a reason why the baby needed to go to San Pedro. They couldn't tell her that the baby was "fine" but needed a two-hour ambulance ride to San Pedro − but that is exactly what they were telling her.

I told her that they had no right to treat her that way. A dozen things were flying through my mind. First I needed to talk to a doctor and find out if we could get a good baby doctor to go examine the baby. I didn't know if the hospital would even release the baby or if another hospital would accept him or if that was even what Arexy wanted. Would it be dangerous to move him or might it save his life to be under the care of a decent doctor who cared? I wanted to see what the doctor said.

On the way there I tried to call a OB-GYN who I assumed would know a good baby doctor and might be able to tell me what we could do. One number was out of service and the other went unanswered. I thought of neighbors who have small children, I thought of a hospital administrator that I know. I had no numbers on my phone! I tried to call Arexy again but there was no answer.

We got to the hospital and the guard would not let us in. It wasn't visiting hours (3:00 to 4:00 p.m.) and no amount of pleading, reasoning, explaining that someone inside urgently needed our help would move his cold heart. He sent us to Administration, a window outside on the sidewalk, jostling with people, to try to get permission to enter. Administration was kind enough to find out the name of the doctor − who had left at 1:00 p.m. − and to let us know that no one could or would talk to us and that everything had been explained to the mother.

I said that was not true, that they told her nothing and that we were there to help the mother find out what was wrong with the baby. We argued for a bit. When she assured me that they give good care to babies and that it was basically none of my business since I wasn't the mother, at that point I lost it and said, "Oh yeah? How many babies have you killed this week?" Exactly the wrong thing to say, but it did get some nods of agreement from the bystanders on the sidewalk. As a matter of fact, Arexy had told us that one of the three babies died yesterday. I don't know if it was the baby who was overdosed by a nurse or the one who "forgot to breathe".

We left that area and went back to the visitor entrance. The guard watched us suspiciously. I wanted to slap him. I called Arexy again and she was talking so fast that I couldn't understand her and had to put El Jefe on the phone. She still knew nothing about why they were moving her baby. J explained that we wanted to help, that we would try to find the best doctor and get the baby moved to a private hospital if that is what she wanted. She was worried about the cost, of course, but J told her that we would be responsible, and all she needed to do was to decide what she wanted to do.

Meanwhile, I called my doctor to ask what we could do, if we could get a doctor to examine the baby or get the baby moved. He couldn't have been nicer and more understanding. He instantly knew why I was in such a panic. He said that the hospital would not allow an outside doctor to examine the patient. He asked a lot of questions and tried to call the baby's doctor to see what he could find out but never got an answer from him.

Arexy decided to trust the public hospital system. I don't know how much her decision was based not wanting to make a fuss or how much it was based on "knowing her place" which is many, many rungs on the ladder below a doctor or nurse or even a guard in this horrible caste system of Honduras.

The most heartbreaking thing is that when we talked about moving the baby to a private hospital, she said, "that is for persons of a higher level, not for me."

Some of you may already know the reason that we were so panicked about sending the baby to San Pedro. As Hospital Atlántida sometimes does, after they have attempted to murder a patient through negligence or outright malicious acts, they send the patient to San Pedro so they don't get blamed for the death. Since according to Arexy, the baby had seemed fine, I was scared to death that they had overdosed him or given him the wrong medicine or something.

El Jefe's 18-year-old brother was killed by Hospital Atlántida when he received something like 10 times the dosage of the wrong medicine. We know that the doctor at Hospital Atlántida killed his brother because El Jefe heard the whole telephone conversation between the enraged doctor in San Pedro and the doctor in La Ceiba in which the SPS doctor accused him of killing J's brother. He went to the hospital a strong young man with a lump on his neck. He was dead two days later.

If you aren't from Honduras, right about now you are thinking "This is impossible. She's lost it." Nope. It's true, and there are tons of people who can verify it, including medical personnel. One woman has seen doctors drop babies on the floor because they didn't like the mother. My sister-in-law fainted in the hospital, fell and hit her head which knocked her out. They left her on the floor until she began giving birth there.

Arexy was treated like she was a dog who just had a litter and didn't need to know and was probably too stupid to understand what was going on with her baby − but Arexy has had worse treatment during her life and didn't have the expectations that I did. I wanted to advocate for her but the system was designed to make sure that everyone stays put in their place. I've never felt so helpless in my life. If only she had called me Sunday night when the hospital originally turned her away!

In the ambulance, I hugged Arexy, who by then was crying, and stepped out of it in tears, wondering if I had the only photo of the baby that there would ever be.

Next, good news-bad news at the San Pedro Sula public hospital.

Saturday night update on Arexy's baby

Pediatric unit at Hospital Atlántida

La Ceiba, Honduras

We went to Hospital Atlántida and talked to Arexy. We weren't able to see the baby or to find a pediatric doctor. She is calm and believes that the baby is doing fine. She's been told that she will be able to breast feed the baby on Monday and she was instructed to take action to ensure that her breast milk continues, since it will have been 11 days since the birth of the baby with no nursing. I'm glad that the nurse instructed her about that.

Arexy said that she was told that there is now some blood of the needed type available now. I'm not sure if it is coincidence or if someone donated as a result of my postings here, at Honduras Living, and on Twitter (and all the retweets). If you donated, thank you very much. But, now the doctor says he will wait until Monday to see if the baby still needs blood. I have no idea whether he said that when there was no blood available or after Arexy was informed that some was available. 

I don't understand the whole thing. It seems as if the baby NEEDS blood or he does NOT need blood. Why would he need blood on Monday if he doesn't need it this afternoon but did need it this morning? It all makes NO SENSE to me! I'm wondering if the decision to wait until Monday was because there was no blood available and the Red Cross is closed for donations on Sundays.

The baby is getting an antibiotic and the fever is gone. A Honduran doctor in the US told me that the baby should be getting TPN (total parenteral nutrician). We weren't able to find out what the baby is getting. I had Arexy go look at the IV bag and it only said Dextrose (sugar).

There are three newborns in incubators in the neonatal intensive care area (or whatever they call it): Arexy's baby who is recovering from surgery, a baby who "forgot to breathe" (this is the medical diagnosis), and a baby who was overdosed with something by one of the nurses. Nice, huh? Comforting.

What I really wanted to do was to get Arexy and the baby and take them to a private hospital! (Not that I've been that impressed with Hospital D'Antoni either.) But the Hondurans in my life would have been horrified. It would have been an insult to the doctors. Both were cringing just at my desire to ask questions of the doctor because that is considered rude and disrespectful. 

I snuck a couple of photos while we were in the hospital. The top photo is the pediatric unit (not where the babies are) and the other is a hallway.

Original story:


Uncaring doctors almost allow a baby to die

Newborn baby needs blood in La Ceiba

A new-born baby in La Ceiba needs A-negative blood. If any of you have that type of blood, I hope that you will go to the Red Cross to donate in the name of Arexy Yamilet Lamberth, ID #0208-1989-01093. A Honduran doctor in the US also told me that O-negative blood could be used.

The baby had surgery to repair a blocked intestine and has been living for 8 days only by IV. The doctor now says that the baby is anemic and needs blood. I don't even know if that treatment makes sense.

Continuing the saga of Arexy's baby: I called Arexy last night and her spirits seemed good. She said the baby was doing well, but also said that he had a little fever. She was pleased that the nurse was putting cold compresses on him. I certainly hope they were doing more than putting cold compresses on him, since fever is a sign of infection. She also said that she had been told that she would be able to breast feed him on Sunday. That is 10 days without breast milk. I hope that is the right thing.

El Jefe called her this morning and she again said that everything was fine. However a little while later she called back to say that she had been told that the baby needs A-negative blood because he is a little anemic. She had been to the Red Cross and they don't have any.

The hospital has been sending this poor woman all over town to try to find drugs and blood. She's been to the Red Cross and both of the big private hospitals. Hospital D'Antoni sold her something else that they said she could use instead. I have no idea what this is, but Arexy is waiting to talk to the doctor about it.

We aren't that blood type, so I have been posting on Facebook and Twitter, as well as to our Honduras Living expatriate group to ask for donors. I'm really lost as to the procedures, but we were told that the donation should be made in the name of Arexy Yamilet Lamberth (ID #0208-1989-01093). If any of you know whether any more information is required or what the procedures are, please let me know. I'm being told that the mother has to go pick up the blood and take it to the hospital! What about keeping it cold?

I wrote about the baby and how he almost died from negligence of the doctors at Hospital Atlantida.

Please help if you can! If you do donate, please let me know ASAP so that I can let the mother know that the blood is there.

Right now, we are going to the hospital to see what we can find out from the doctor himself. This is crazy trying to figure out what is going from Arexy. She has no idea and may not even be accurately repeating what the doctor said.

Follow up article on Saturday night.

Uncaring Honduran doctors almost allow a baby to die

Hospital Atlántida, La Ceiba, Honduras
Photos: La Prensa, Honduras

Health care for the poor in Honduras is abysmal. There is no other way to describe it. In much of the country, there simply is no health care for the poor, and when there are emergencies, often the poor don't have transportation to an area where public health care is provided. I read a heartbreaking story from a medical missionary about a woman who had nowhere to take her very sick baby and didn't have the 75 cents or so she needed to take a bus to the nearest public hospital hours away. The baby died.

Here is another example: because of lack of availability of even the most common drugs, it's not unheard of for a doctor in rural areas to prescribe aspirin for infections, and antibiotics for pain. I know that sounds un-freaking-believable, but it happens. Whether it is because of incompetence or lack of drugs or just a lack of caring among some so-called doctors, I do not know.

Even in the large cities, the hospitals frequently do not have the most commonly needed drugs and are known to give out expired drugs to patients. Doctors and hospital administrators are often accused of stealing and selling the drugs. Government administrators are accused of buying the government drug supplies in dirty kickback deals or mismanaging the maintenance and distribution of drugs so that ultimately the drugs are thrown out as useless. If the families of patients do not have the means of finding and buying necessary drugs or other medical supplies from private pharmacies, the patient is just out of luck. If the supplies are necessary to keep the patient alive, well, the patient dies. It is as simple as that.

Here in La Ceiba, a larger town, there is a regional public hospital and a public health clinic, so you might think that Ceibeños are a little better off. However, one US American doctor described Hospital Atlántida as, "The hospital is amazingly primitive and without modern resources. Worse than places I have worked in Africa." He mentioned that the building is about 60 years old and parts of it look as if they hadn't been clean since then. 

He also mentioned that the supervising doctors are rarely there, even though they are paid very high salaries by the government to work six hours a day. Absence of such supplies as gloves, soap, and towels were frequent. In reviewing patients charts of the supervising doctors, he found the doctors "woefully inadequate in the diagnosis and treatment of common infectious diseases".

You may remember that my former maid, Arexy, was pregnant. Arexy's baby was born on Friday, May 28, in Hospital Atlántida. The hospital gave her six hours to get up and get the heck out of there. Their job was done. Most of the women there to give birth were sharing beds, two women to a bed. That's to be expected in Honduras and maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe most times it doesn't matter that they generally kick the women out six hours after they give birth.

What does matter is that Arexy's baby was not ready to leave the hospital. The baby was not eating and was crying in pain. They released her and the baby with no instructions, no suggestions to bring the baby back if he didn't start eating after xx hours or xx days, no nothing. They just gave this obviously in distress baby to his uneducated mother and told her to go home.

For the next two days, the baby screamed constantly, would not eat, did not defecate, and even more alarmingly, started vomiting green liquid.

First, a little about Arexy. She is a humble, very timid person, not unlike many of the poor in Honduras. She's never watched a television show, attended a class or read a book about giving birth or infant care. Even if she had, she would never question the judgment of a doctor or nurse − about anything! During her prenatal care, she was given shots and was too timid even to ask what kind of shots she was receiving and they never offered the information. For the poor, strong babies generally live, and sick babies generally do not.

By Sunday night, the third day of the baby's life, Arexy was very worried about her baby but just didn't know what to do. I wish she would have called us, but she didn't. Thankfully, her sister-in-law, who is a little more forceful, said that they needed to go to the hospital emergency room right now! The baby couldn't wait any longer.

A doctor examined the baby in the emergency room and very rudely told Arexy to take the baby to the Centro de Salud (health clinic) the next day, implying that she was wasting his time. So, what could Arexy do? Nothing, except to do what the doctor told her to do. The following morning, they rushed to the clinic and waited for an examination. The nurse there said, "This baby needs to go to the emergency room! Why didn't you take him sooner?!" So now on top of all this worry and stress, Arexy bears the guilt of not doing the right thing for her baby. Normally stoic Arexy cried as she told me this.


They went again to the emergency room, and thank the lord, this time the baby was seen by a decent doctor who cared whether this baby lived or died. He diagnosed that immediate surgery was necessary to save the baby's life. His intestine was completely blocked. They performed surgery a few hours later.

Now Arexy stays with her baby all during the day, for as many hours as the hospital allows her to be there. She is not allowed to stay at night, and no one else is allowed to help her out by staying with the baby in the critical care unit, not even the baby's father. However, there is no chair, so she stands by the incubator the entire day, every day. They will not let her breast feed her baby. He is being kept alive with an IV, for six days they say. I don't know if this would be normal in a first world country after this kind of surgery, but I would like to know from you doctors and nurses out there.

I just found out all of this yesterday. I was enraged that the doctors could be so uncaring, so irresponsible! But I tried not to show that to Arexy. It won't help for me to say that those heartless, incompetent doctors could have been responsible for the death of her baby. She probably already knows that and feels helpless to do anything about it. The injustice of all of this is unbearable.

I'm praying that the surgery was done properly and that the baby won't develop an infection or any other complications. Those are very real risks in Honduran public hospitals. Arexy says that the baby seems better now. I urged her again to please call us if there is anything that she needs or any problems that she needs help with. She probably won't call on us, but I'll be checking with her daily.



See followup articles here and here.