The thing about Haiti is... well...you just never know what's going to happen next. For instance when Crash helped harvest the mangoes by being the mango catcher on the ground. The boys threw them from the tree and she caught them and put them in the box so we could put them in the depot to ripen. If we leave them on the tree, little animals make holes in them and they rot or two legged animals take them and we never get to eat them. Crash, being the helpful person that she is, was trying to help save the mangoes and feed people. She had the best of intentions. She has eaten mango many times and she has never been allergic to anything in her life, except mango milk, which unfortunately she did not know about. Mango milk is the sap that comes out of the end of the mango where it was hooked to a long string like stem, hanging from the tree. None of us thought about this until she got up in the morning and her face was bright, shiny, and red. Her eyes were swollen and she was looking out through little slits in her face. I guess she was surprised herself at how she must look when she asked if it looked like there was anything wrong with her face. She didn't even get the sentence out and she saw the look on my face. I said, "What in the world happened to you?" She had a red rash all over her chest and arms which itched like crazy. We found some Benedryl and sent Mdme Marc for some calimine lotion and more allergy medicine because we only had a couple Benedryl pills. Crash tried all of these but found no relief. Monday called for new and drastic measures because it was only getting worse. There is nothing like the heat of Haiti to cool your itching skin when you have a horrible reaction like this. We had to ride close together in the front of the big, blue, faithful, mission machine with the windows down trying to keep cool in the breeze since there is no air condition. The temperature in the shade lately has been 90, so use your imagination. Needless to say it was very uncomfortable for someone in Crash's condition. She was a trooper. It was kind of un-nerving though, this sealed look on her face that just said, "Yes, I am really annoyed and sick of it all and want to go home now!" I felt pretty helpless not to be able to accomadate. We arrived at the clinic and got in quickly. The doctor looked at our sack of meds and said we were giving her all the right things we just needed to wait. Then he must have saw me flinch as I almost lunged at him and he quickly recovered saying that there was a shot of a medication called promethizine that would help calm it all down. He asked me if I could give the shot. I said no. He said he had an American nurse who could help us. I thought he meant at the clinic, of course. All of the sudden he handed me the phone and I am talking to this lady. She doesn't know why she's talking to me and I don't know why I am talking to her but I explain our situation to her. She went off on this whole thing about having had a similar reaction recently and that there is no epinephrine available in this country but that all missionaries should have some on hand. She prayed with me right there on the phone to be able to find the promethizine. We exchanged phone numbers and headed for the clinic pharmacy which did not have promethizine. I then went across the road to the hospital and asked for it at their pharmacy. Well of course they didn't have change for my Haitian $50 bill, which is not unusual. I sent the man with me to buy a coke so I could have the change to pay for the medicine. In the mean time, I chatted with the nurse asking her about the hospital and telling her about Lonia. The man returned with my coke and change. As I was chugging it down, I heard the nurse say, "Oh no, I don't even have PROMETHIZINE!!!" I couldn't believe it but managed not to shower everyone with my mouthful of coke. Before I could respond, the nurse said, "However, I know we do have some in the operating room but I can't charge you for it." She took off after it when I gave her the "Mdme Kiki" look. She came back with it and I thanked her for it and paid her $2 Haitian for a syringe and I was on my way to give Crash relief. Unfortunately she had to wait until we got back home and Monique came to give her the shot. She was pretty stir crazy at that point. She took the shot and kept rubbing on the Calamine. By evening she felt no relief. When Pasteur Quene called I asked him to buy another shot to give her that evening. It was late and most pharmacies were closed. The only promethizine they had was in a huge bottle. The took a sryinge, filled it with the correct dose and placed the syringe back in its original paper and Pasteur Quene took careful pre-cautions to bring it to Carries on a tap-tap. It cost $25 Haitian. We then had to wait for Monique to call the nurse at the pharmacy and confirm that we really had a shot of promethizine. She finally received the shot but the next morning she didn't feel like there was much success. We sent for more promethizine which was delivered in the same manner BUT there was a new pharmacist and she doubled the price to $50 Haitian. What a country! Well, we know that many of you were praying for us and that is the only reason our story has a good ending. Crash's face has since cleared up. We no longer call her monster face and children do not run when they see her. Thank you so much for praying. The moral to this story is: Beware and don't touch the mangoes, especially the sap because you are probably allergic to them. WE HAVE DECIDED THAT THIS ADVICE WILL BE STRESSED OVER AND OVER TO ANYONE WHO COMES TO VISIT US ESPECIALLY IF YOU'VE NEVER BEEN ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING BEFORE!
