Background Information on Cuba
By Jerome Harvey M.D. CEO MEMO
(This is a reprinted article taken from the May 2005 edition of the Medical Post)
Have you ever wondered what happens to all that redundant hospital equipment that gets replaced every 10 years by state-of-the-art stuff? That thought went through mind as I stood, bleary eyed, one morning last year looking out my kitchen window at the old 250-bed Port Arthur General Hospital in Thunder Bay, ON. It was soon to be closed and, along with the 350-bed Mckellar Hospital on the other side of town, to be replaced with a 375-bed state-of-art super-duper new hospital.
My inquires led me to discover that, because of Thunder Bay’s isolation (500 kilometers to the next nearest large population centre) the cost of removal and shipping made the contents of the old hospitals valueless. Reluctantly, the hospital administration admitted that most of the equipment would be sold to a scrap dealer for $50 a ton. This included 12 x-ray machines, ranging from seven to twenty years of age, all to be replaced with digital machines.
Because two complete hospitals were being replaced with a single one, the equivalent of eight operating suites, complete with all the surgical instruments and scopes were available. The list of what had been declared redundant went on and on, with replacement value of approximately $20 million.
A few weeks later, against my better judgment, a Thunder Bay firefighter friend of mine talked me into joining a work team for our church, going to Cuba for a couple weeks to help reconstruct a children’s camp. It was there that the epiphany occurred. Perhaps this equipment would be useful in Cuba! I had heard rumors of worn-out hospitals in Cuba in desperate need of modernization. It was through this that "Medical Equipment Modernization Opportunity" (MEMO) was born. Still just a vision in my mind, I approached the Thunder Bay Regional Hospital Administration and discovered that they were open to the idea of the hospital equipment being used in a third world country rather being turned into scrap or landfill.
In Cuba, I discovered my job was to dig ditches for a water system for the children’s camp. I went into medical school to avoid this fate, but after 40 years of medical practice it finally caught up to me. Digging in clay with a pick axe and shovel is not fun, even in balmy Cuba in January.
Fortunately, I had wangled a few days away from the camp to meet with Cuban Ministry of Health officials in Havana about my vision. I had met a young Cuban physician, Dr. Aurora Riere, from Placetas (near Santa Clara in central Cuba ). She was involved with the religious group that was reconstructing the children’s camp. Dr. Riere was able to arrange the meetings. The Cuban government officials promised to help us in every way they could. The also agreed the donation could go to the remote and needy area of Santa Clara.
Back in Canada, Dr. Gabriel Mapeso, a surgeon from the Philippines on staff at the Regional Hospital of Thunder Bay, had also negotiated for some of the the redundant equipment to be sent to the Philippines. Rather than compete, we joined forces. For two weeks in August 2004, more than 100 volunteers from across Western Canada removed, created and shipped 11 ocean containers to Cuba and eight to the Philippines . This was equivalent to two complete 80-bed hospitals. A great mountain of hospital equipment and furnishings used to make our now outdated hospitals were bubble wrapped, shrink wrapped and protected in 270 palletized crates. We used so much wood for crating, the word was that we were actually sending lumber to Cuba and the Philippines, and the medical equipment was just an excuse!
In a project like this, there are always the doubters. They try to convince you that it will never arrive at its destination due to theft. Or that if it does arrive, we will be left sitting, rusting away for lack of local initiative. None of the dire predictions came true. In both Cuba and the Philippines, all the equipment arrived undamaged and usable. Cuba and Filipino biomedical engineers immediately set to work to install X-ray machines, lab equipment and operating room suites. One orthopaedic surgeon, as he opened boxes of surgical instruments with tear in his eyes, cried “I have only seen instrument like these in textbooks!” It was a great joy to actually see Cuban patients comfy and cozy in the 110 modern hospital beds we had delivered.
One very important aspect of MEMO was sustainability. With a current daily income of the average Cuban being less than fifty cents, and with the Cuban economy teetering on the brink, sustaining a modern health-care system is difficult. MEMO committed itself to providing orientation to this new modern equipment as well as providing repair parts and consumables for the next five years. It is hoped that the Cuban health-care system will become self-sustaining as it markets its made-in-Cuban AIDS drugs, vaccines and most recently, a drug for lung cancer that looks promising, in, of all things, U.S. trials.
You are probably wondering who paid for all of this. The cost of acquiring, removing, packing, shipping and reinstalling this $20 million of equipment was $346,314. this was raised entirely from individual Canadians and faith communities by word of mouth promotion. Dozens of Canadian corporations and foundations have been approached. Most responded that they only support projects that directly benefit Canadians. Even more disturbing, we have repeatedly approached the federal government for support, to no avail. In February 2004, we were told we were not eligible because we lacked experience.
In September 2004, after removing and shipping 19 ocean containers, we were told that the federal government had no money (a scary thought). Finally, in February 2005, the federal government announced it will no longer fund the 240 medium to small Canadian NGOs (non-governmental organizations) that now carry out the bulk of Canada ’s person-to-person humanitarian aid.
However, when it comes to MEMO, ordinary Canadians have risen above the government’s international agenda. When MEMO was facing the dilemma of having to let life-saving hospital equipment sit in a warehouse for lack of funds for shipping, an elderly couple came forward with a loan of $70,000 from their retirement savings to allow the equipment to be shipped. This debt has been paid off by January 2006. It is hard to believe that my vision has become a reality. An e-mail, from Di. Riera in Cuba says it all: “I will send you a picture of the department of X-ray in Placetas, all is very beautiful. Everybody is very happy. It is amazing!”
And so it is.