Follow-up

This morning I drove to the CONASPEH clinic at Carrefour. As I was entering the little walkway between houses that leads to the clinic, a man I had seen weeks ago greeted me with a smile and a handshake. Several months ago, he had been hit by a car. He had approached me in the street outside of the clinic to show me an open wound on his leg that wasn't healing. So we had met weekly for about a month doing wound care and education, treating an infection and checking on its continued healing.

With a smile, the man showed off his leg is now completely covered with healthy pink tissue despite the bumpy scar left as a reminder of the accident.

He asked me if I had a moment to see his son who had "hit his head."

So I followed him into his house and came into a room with a single bed in it. A grown young man was lying on the bed. "Hit his head" actually meant "Hit by a car and injured really bad." But this had happened several weeks ago. He had spent significant time in the hospital, had a face full of stitches as well as some on his leg which were apparent by many jagged but well-healing scars. My friend wanted me to see his son because he suffers from headaches often, has a hard time working and still has some swelling around his eye.

By the looks of the roadmap of scars on the young mans face and skull, it was a miracle he is still alive. I said as much, and the whole family threw up their hands in unison and thanked God.

Knowing there wan't much I would be able to do (and glad not to be evaluating an acute head trauma), I examined the youth, took a history and was reassured that despite continued suffering, he was getting around, thinking, working, eating, sleeping and continuing on with his life. In fact he was recovering remarkabley well, all things considered, and I couldn't find much wrong with him aside from a few inflammed scars.

So I pulled out some Ibuprofen, talked about wound care and scar massage, and congratulated him on surviving.

I felt honored to have been pulled into the family's home, was glad that I could help celebrate one more incredibly strong survivor in this country full of hardships, and happy to be able to give a little reassurance if not miraculous medical care to a famliy who has had its share of bad luck with on-coming traffic.

The father of the family walked me to the door, shook my hand and thanked me. I hadn't done much, but I was grateful for his apparent satisfaction with the time we spent together.

I needed that smile today. Life sometimes squeezes in a special moment just when you need it. Its hard not to focus on doing what you can after witnessing relentless survival and strength that so many people exhibit here. At the very least, I can try to be strong to in my cush, protected life.

So my clinic day felt a lot more positive, a lot more hopeful. I handed out vitamins with a lot of education, encouragement and hope that somewhere along the line at least my positive presence in the lives of my patients will mean something. I won't win any medical society awards for the medicine I'm practicing, but if I focus on the humanity of it, maybe I'll fight the fingers of frustration that try to sneak their way into my spirit. I'm just greatful for little moments of clarity that shake me out of the darkness.