BY MARK
It was so wonderful this year on my birthday, that the staff of
Hôpital L’Eglise de Dieu Réformée not only took the time to repeatedly wish me
“happy birthday”, but were so kind to bring me my favorite foods, complete with
a whole quart of ice cream. I am so spoiled! They presented their
wonderful gifts and left me to enjoy my meal in the relative quiet of our
office. It was a great time of reflection.
Earlier in the day, as I was in my office, a group of 3 ladies
came to my office door with referral sheets from another missionary medical
group who refers patients to us. I pointed them in the right direction
and explained to them how to check in and see the doctor. The other
missionary group had kindly paid for their visit so they were making sure that
all was in order. As they scurried off to their appointments, one of the
ladies held back and seemed to be a bit befuddled by the instructions.
She was very diminutive, quiet and demure. Her clothes were dirty and
tattered, and her teeth were black with decay. I asked her if she
understood and she incorrectly described the directions.
As the story unfolded, she had only shared a ride with the other
ladies but really didn’t know them as she had come from farther up in the
mountains than her comrades. She showed me her referral sheet and said it
was for her son who was in her arms. As I glanced at the sheet, the name,
age, height, and weight of the little guy was listed along with a simple note
that said “malnourished. See Dr. Mark”. I took my first good look
at her son and noticed his mismatched sandals, too large brown shorts and his
too small “Incredible Hulk” flannel pajama top. The sleeves were long
enough to cover his elbows but didn’t come close to his wrists. The area
around his middle was too small to be buttoned due to his swollen belly.
His hair was non-existent and his size was way below average for his 2 ½ years
of life. Mom and he stared at me as if to ask “what’s next?” so I thought
I might give them a bit of personal help to navigate our confusing maze of
check-ins.
One of the staff members helped them to check-in and they were
placed in the queue to be seen by one of the pediatricians. After the
usual long wait (we are “first come, first serve” for outpatient services), Mom
and “Hulk” again found me in the ER and without speaking, gently handed me the
prescriptions for blood work, a chest film, and some meds. Mom was unable
to read them, and once again very politely asked me for some help. After
navigating them through x-ray and the lab, they went back to see the
pediatrician for a more definitive diagnosis and a plan.
 |
| Staff seeing a child in the malnutrition program |
After another time lapse, Hulk’s mom found me in the
pharmacy. The pediatrician had suggested that Hulk be admitted, but mom
said she needed to get back to the rest of her family. I told her that it
would certainly be in his best interest to stay and be cared for by us, and
that without the help he might be in danger of getting worse and even
succumbing to his physical problems. She paused and said that the
pediatrician wanted Hulk to be part of the malnutrition program, which monitors
at risk children twice monthly, and provides some basic nourishment and
necessities for them. The next time the program occurred would be the
following week, so she and Hulk would return at that time. I argued
against the delay as Hulk really needed to stay. Unemotionally mom stated
that he would be ok, even though he was too weak to stand for long by himself,
and that he had been that way for awhile. She would not be able to leave
him behind or stay with him. The group had provided a little money for
her to get back home, so she left, with a very polite “mèsi” and said that she
would see me next week.
So as I sat in my office with a big plate of my favorite foods,
waiting to devour a whole bunch of ice cream, while the memory of my birthday
with Hulk and his mom were haunting my office. Knowing that this little guy was
just one of many I have seen with similar stories made the meal a little more
difficult to swallow and generated a time of reflection, a time of gratitude, a
time of prayer. I don’t understand the inequality that life presents
sometimes, nor why I have been given what I have been given. The irony of
such a little guy having an Incredible Hulk shirt didn’t escape me on my
birthday and that produced a grin on my face. As another chorus of “Happy
Birthday” was presented by a staff member, I was overwhelmed by the blessings
of my birthday, including a visit from a tiny “superhero”. I pray that
someday, on his birthday, Hulk will have all of his favorite foods in front of
him, be surrounded by friends and his loving mother, and know that there is an
eternity ahead when all of this inequality will be made “right”.
I sure hope I get to see you again next week, Hulk! I’ll
be waiting!
***************************************************************
This was written on October 31st, Dr.
Mark’s birthday, and since then the little Hulk did return, but in worse
condition. After some exams and blood work, they found that again it
would be in the boy’s best interest to be admitted. The mother agreed but
was unable to provide any money for his stay. Because of our generous
donors, we were able to cover the cost for Hulk’s testing and time at our
facility. He is still at the hospital and we pray he continues to improve
each day.
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