Hospital Loma de Luz- Honduras

I have always been fond of numbers- mathematics was one of my favorite subjects in school as a kid. Perhaps it's the predictable order by which numbers are arranged or the defined formulas in which numbers are used that brings me a sense of comfort and satisfaction. Or rather, maybe it's the fact that one can produce a given number from any other number by the use of a multitude of available formulas and calculations. In today's equation, I recount how the number three turns into hundreds which turns into one . And no, I haven't ventured to find a mathematical formula to explain it. A lot can happen in three weeks. In my short time here at Loma de Luz I have witnessed new lives being brought into the world, older lives taking their last breaths, and other lives transitioning between these two earthly experiences. I have had the privilege of being involved in one way or another with hundreds  of people in times of immense hope, great suffering, and predictable mundani

"The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little." - Franklin D. Roosevelt, Inaugural Address, January 20, 1937 These are the words I hear as I listen to Audible's version of The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah while preparing my lunch today. Though spoken at the time of The Great Depression, these words are undoubtedly still relevant today... I realize this every day at Loma de Luz. Here a patient admitted to the hospital is provided a less-than-twin size bed in a room that he or she shares with 3-4 other patients separated only by curtains. Though the curtains guarantee some degree of privacy, they are still permeable to the sounds and smells that make hospitals less than pleasant. Family members reluctant to leave the sides of their loved ones sleep on the ground or the hard wooden benches in the hallway. But a small bed, thin curtains, and a solid surface are enough

When I wake up my first morning in Honduras I am greeted by howling monkeys outside my window- who needs a slew of iPhone alarm ringtones when you have monkeys?! The "howl" sounds like a cross between the roar of a lion and the bark of a dog- it's difficult to explain, but if you search howling monkey on Youtube, you will find yourself easily entertained. Just when I think my morning couldn't get any more wild than that, I put on my scrubs, wrap my stethoscope around my neck, and leave my apartment for the hospital. I am soon confronted with two hanging bridges surrounded by canopy trees that eagerly await my passage over a 100 feet gap above the rainforest floor. I can feel my heart already beginning to race, and for the first time in awhile, it isn't because I am running to a code blue or to the trauma bay to stabilize a patient. The first bridge is a wobbly one, and I immediately regret my decision to have both my hands full as I can't brace myself with the

I’m sitting in the airport at Roatan island waiting for my next flight to mainland Honduras. With a 4 hour layover, seems like a perfect opportunity to write my first blog post! From here I will take a 20 minute flight to La Ceiba and then a taxi ride to Hospital Loma de Luz in Balfate where I will spend the next 5-6 months. It is amazing to me that less than 3 hours is the difference between a different country, a different landscape and climate, and a different language. I quickly exchanged cold, dry, and brown for warm, humid, and green and English for Spanish.  Waiting in line at customs, there is a sign that says “Somos Honduras, somos para ti,” or in English, “We are Honduras, we are here for you.” This sign caught my eye not only because of the bright and tropical colors of the letters and the images of beautiful flowers, serene beaches, artisan jewelry, and mouth-watering cuisine. But the words themselves reminded me of the common humanity we share in a world that too often foc