Short Term Medical Mission

A medical missionary couple I knew invited me to participate with a short-term medical mission trip (around the time of my third youth trip to Mexico). I was honored to be invited and had great hope that this was a different kind of trip. We would be doing something practical: addressing and treating medical issues. Days were spent commuting around rural Mexico, seeing/ treating endless lines of patients. As the non-medically trained member of the team, I learned how to use a stethoscope and how to check a pulse rate. I also counted and divided vitamins (and some pills) to be distributed.

Our lodging was great – running water being the measure of “great!” A long way from border cities such as Tijuana, we had the opportunity to observe life in rural Mexico. Lunches were prepared by community members in southern Mexico and served in their homes – a gastronomical risk in and of itself. Dinners were at the same restaurant, where we built relationships with the owners and servers. Our team was from all over the US (and maybe a couple from Canada – I can’t remember). There was no rest for the weary and I loved every single minute of being on the team and connecting with the people we served. It was always that way for me on “mission trips.” 

I will take one moment to boast and say I did raise the flag on a very pregnant woman who had a heard rate that was through the roof! I told the doctors on our team, and they encouraged her family to take her to a hospital immediately. Did they follow through? I assume but I don’t know. So, is that something to even boast about?

As I counted out vitamins to give patients (30 tablets to be taken one every other day), I began to feel disheartened, even a little ridiculous. At first, I was an advocate of this experience – anyone can serve on a medical mission trip! Isn’t it wonderful? You don’t have to be a doctor or a nurse! I can count pills and take blood pressure – I can help. This sentiment did not last. Helping to help is misdirected at best.

It ranks up there with the most pointless things I have done in giving these patients or “patients” vitamins that will last two months (if they follow our instructions). These patients are living in extreme poverty, there is little access to any kind of medical care, never mind having the money to pay for a prescription. And preventative care?! Educating about boiling your water or eating a vegetable? My (halfhearted) apologies to medical missionaries everywhere but what are you really doing? Saving people for a moment? Oh, and the other thing. Patients were ushered into a “presentation” of sorts about the Gospel after being seen by the doctor. This is is a whole other area for discussion at another point.

This might seem like a harsh criticism and far from politically correct or kind. But the reality is aid initiatives are saving lives for the moment. The root cause of how people ended up seeing a medical mission team was not addressed. Bluntly, we were “saving lives” just for those who are saved to need help again in a very short amount of time. And the next time they need help, there won’t be a doctor or medical mission team. It is literally like putting a band-aid on an open wound when surgery is required (pun intended). Unfortunately, often, this is the picture of aid. Temporary fixes. Is it worthy to save a life? Absolutely. But if we don’t also address the contextual issues, what good are we really doing?

I am sharing only my solitary experience with this particular agency. Maybe teams went back to this neighborhood again and again. Maybe they were training local people to provide medical care. I really don’t know the answer, even though I asked about it. So, was this just another handout? Short term relief but no sustainable and dignified solution. If I am way off base, please. Someone. Show me where I am getting this wrong.