My hopes were high as I walked into Hospital Policlinico Monday morning. I had yet to see a pregnant woman in this country much less one in labor. However, rumor is there are an average of 12 births every day at Policlinico. I put on my freshly ironed scrubs and braced myself for a morning sure to be full of babies! After meeting Dr. Rojas I was ushered into a classroom, standing room only, with doctors, residents, and med students. If there is anything we have learned in our time in the hospitals here it is that the classroom is never good. After 2 hours of a pre-eclampsia lecture in Spanish I was, needless to say, disappointed.
Tuesday I arrived bound and determined to find labor and delivery and deliver some babies! I succeeded in the former but miserably failed in the latter. After several hours in L&D and not a single woman in labor, I decided to head home.
Being the stubborn woman that I am, Wednesday morning I decided I wouldn´t give up. Third time is a charm, I figured. I hesitantly suited up and headed into L&D. In the dressing room I kept hearing the word pre-eclampsia but could not quite put everything together. I stepped across the sterile threshold in my surgical garb--no one. Again, not a single woman in labor.
Sitting in the break room watching Scooby Doo in Spanish, I noticed the phone sure was ringing a lot more than normal and everyone was beginning to stir. Trying not to get too excited, I knew something exciting was about to happen.
In rolls a pregnant woman! However, I was a little confused because she did not appear to be in labor, nor did she appear to be full-term. The OR was being prepped so I knew a C-section was in order. Tears rolled down the woman´s face. The phrases "26 weeks" and "pre-eclampsia" were being thrown around. And I knew ever too clearly exactly what was about to happen. Doctors and nurses alike gathered around in an effort to provide a combination of comfort and reality. They were deeply concerned. As the first incision was made I thought--I want to be an OB/GYN. I want care for women at their most vulnerable and exciting times in life.
Before I knew it a baby boy no larger than my hand was taken from his safe, secure home nearly 14 weeks before his time. Like a little girl observing the work of her father, I watched every move of the neonatologist carefully. I was completely enamored by this little 26 weeker. At only 600 grams, he was perfect in every way. Ten tiny fingers grasping for comfort. Ten tiny toes kicking in the air. I pressed my stethoscope against his chest and heard his tiny heart beating and his lungs working so hard for some air. And his cry--at his cry everyone went still and tears filled my eyes. Standing by his side I thought--I want to be a neonatologist. I want to help the little ones fight for life.
Thursday I found myself at the side of Steven, an 8 month old with a cleft lip. With just a quick glance at his cute little face your heart broke. I was amazed at the simplicity and yet delicacy of the repair surgery. Upon completion, Steven looked much like any other 8 month old with only a small scar in the place of his cleft. I rocked him and held him close as he whimpered during recovery. I couldn´t help but think how many children around the world I have seen with cleft lips and what a difference such a simple surgery would make in their lives. By the end of the morning I thought--I want to be a pediatric surgeon.
Needless to say, I have found the opportunities in medicine to be endless. In part, that ignites fear in me. In part, it kindles such excitement. I fear that I will never be able to choose which path to take! However, I know that no matter where I find myself, I will be doing the very thing for which I long--making a difference in others´ lives.
In Greek there are two words for life--bios and zoe. Bios is the root of biology meaning the type of life that lives and breathes. Zoe is far less superficial, a quality of life and not just life itself, a life full of hope and joy. What a joy to bring not just bios life but zoe life also into the lives of others! I pray that God would truly use my hands to be an instrument of healing and hope, an instrument of life. Not just living, breathing life, but life abundant.
What a privilege we have to know Him and serve Him. May we never take it for granted a single day. May we walk in the joy that says, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you" (Psalm 16:2).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Beautiful!
that sounds like a pretty amazing experience. i was just thinking the other day of all the babies we saw in china who had cleft lip. i think i was reading about a charity whose mission is to help repair this minor defect that can be such a big deal in less fortunate countries.
Post a Comment