I haven’t really talked about this before, but I think it is appropriate to mention some of the things that make this internship sometimes very difficult for me. I am working in one of the poorest countries in the world with one of the highest infant mortality rates. I can’t spend two months in and out of hospital nurseries without learning what those statistics really mean.

Last Friday I was in the nursery for less than two hours total the entire day, but I was still present for the passing of two babies. Both were very sick and had little chances of survival. It isn’t uncommon to become acquainted with a child or their mother one day only to see a new baby in their place the next. While doing some data entry in the past week we’ve spent a lot of time looking at clinicians’ notes. The notes will chronicle the story of the patient’s entrance, their improvement or worsening condition, and often afterwards their death. At every death, the nurse or clinician taking notes will write “so sorry” underneath the notes of their passing.

It’s very hard to play witness to some of the hard facts of the hospital. A lot of times I feel helpless because there is nothing I can do that could give these children better chances than what the nurses and clinicians are already doing. I feel guilty that if the babies grew up where I did, they would have access to so much more that could help. I have to constantly remind myself that what I am doing here is, in it’s small way, contributing.

The difficult sights I have seen illustrate the importance of the work that groups like BTB are doing. Statistics are far more compelling when you’re standing in the middle of them, but they’re as important in Houston as they are in the nursery. I’m so grateful to everyone that has contributed to this program or a similar one, because work like that Rice has been doing is absolutely necessary. As I have now actually observed, interventions like the CPAP have often drawn the line between life and death.