Norris Family News

I'm a doctor, not a mechanic!

Today the team (we have a group of 30 or so come about every other week) wanted to do a medical clinic in a very poor area outside Juarez, MX, so I went to help with that. The big bus of people and supplies was to come later, but the “advance team,” three college guys and Andy Wolcott (fix-it guy extraordinaire and long-time staff) went first to set up. As I plunked down in the front seat of the Suburban, Andy passes me his cell phone, and says “We have some phone errands to do.” I think he knew it was going to take some time, and didn’t want to drive and be on the phone. Andy explains that we need to call various auto part stores to find an oil filter for the bus. The type we have is “Nehoff 6243” (or something like that), which is OK but not optimal, and we need to ask the guy on the phone what it will “cross over” to, hopefully a Johnson. I don’t understand this in the least. I offer it to the guys in the back, they decline to get involved. I am tempted to say, “I am a doctor, not a mechanic!” ala Star Trek. But, after rehearsing my part I make the first call. They couldn’t get it to “cross over” to anything, so I tried the second number. It became necessary to clarify that this Nehoff 6243 oil filter is for a coach bus with an Allison transmission, and yes, in fact, it was a “spin on” variety. The second guy didn’t have any insight either, so we move toward a third option. The college-aged boys in the back are very encouraging, and tell me I’m doing fine. Next, we have to call Andy’s wife Kathy and get the number for Stuart Stevenson. This I do, and I even understand what I’m saying. I call the new number and ask for Stuart Stevenson. At this point the boys in the back begin to convulse because Stuart Stevenson is a CHAIN of autoparts stores and not an individual. Having regained my dignity, I speak to the “parts guy.” I am somewhat comfortable with what I am saying now. I prattle on about the Nehoff 6243 and the Allison transmission and the hope for a Johnson crossover, in order to make my request clear. However, this guy can’t cross over the Nehoff 6243 unless I have a serial number from the engine. We consider calling Colorado for this bit of info, but ultimately we call a local bus charter service. The ladies answering the phone hasten to correct me that they don’t sell retail, they are a charter service. Yes, I know, I explain, I’m with Grace Coachlines (the profitable arm of International Family Missions….the income helps support the ministry) and we’ve done this before, as our bus guys are getting to know their bus guys. With thick accents they express their sheer disbelief and put me on hold for a long time so I can have the same discussion with the next lady. The stressful thing is that we are nearly to the border with Mexico, at which point the phone will switch to Mexican phone service which costs considerably more. Andy is very peaceful and patient with his clueless helper, coaching right to the end. Finally I get the parts guy. Andy takes over the phone and speaks a language I’ve never heard before, the automotive language. The two men get along wonderfully, but eventually we lose cell coverage and the issue is never resolved.

These are small problems. We go on to attempt to help at least 85 people at a make-shift clinic held in a tiny church. Granjas del Desierto (farmers of the desert, but I don’t see anything growing but desert scrub) is a very poor colonia with no running water, no septic system, I’m not sure about electricity in some of the homes. These guys are actually worried about having enough food. Parasites appear to be a reality (I hadn’t yet seen in MX), lots of  kids have diarrhea because the water (I believe distributed by water trucks for a tiny fee) is not always “good.” People with diabetes have no treatment and they can’t change their diet anyway. We do the best we can with the time and resources we have. I have a lot to learn because I’m used to ordering what the patient needs with the click of a mouse. We can go back soon with more medicines for those needs we couldn’t tend to today, and try to find the little old ladies who were supposed to be at the clinic but didn’t come because of a long walk, or the heat or something. We are starting to know where some of these live, I will see if Thaine can find a picture of Concha. We drove her home yesterday after the activities at the church. That was fun. We are usually real sticklers about seatbelts, but we told some of our kids to climb in the “way back” of the van and completely stuffed the van with people who were neighbors of Concha or from the team, going to escort other people home. There were people two deep on both bench seats, and I bet the van was skimming the bumpy dirt road with an inch to spare. The good news here is that everybody enjoyed visiting in homes. You really get to know someone if you sit in front of their house and chat. The “farmers of the desert” are very gracious in their poverty, and they really appreciate a friendly visit and a chance to pray. We did take medicine, apples and beans etc., but many more tears were shed during prayer than at any other time.

-- Erika