Not Everyday



 



Dr. JF, Nathaelle, her parents and family.  

It's not everyday at Visitation Clinic that as you finish breakfast you're told some people are waiting to see you.   The people turn out to be Nathaelle and her parents and family.  Nathaelle is a friendly15-year old who was in our clinic for two days with acute gastritus.  Her parents had sent her to us from a distant town on a motorcycle, even though there were closer hospitals and clinics.  Dr. JF had already told me the story of how Nathaelle was unresponsive to the normal antibiotic regimine and how, as her conditioned worsened, he had conferred with a surgeon in Port-au-Prince who advised us to rush her there. 




SUV to ambulance



 

As we converted our SUV to an ambulance, Dr. JF had tried a last-ditch IV of a new and potent antibiotic.  Everyone piled in for the long, late night ride with a risky outcome.   We were surprised when the vehicle returned early in the morning with promising news.   The antibiotic seemed to be working and the pain had subsided.  So  Dr. JF had detoured to Dr. Delva's (our former resident) clinic in Port-au-Prince where Nathaelle would be close to surgical help, if needed, but in good hands otherwise.  She was so improved the next day that we were able to bring her home. 

 

But why did her family want to talk to me?  With great formality, they said through an interpreter what was on their mind.  It was simple enough, "We want to thank you for saving our daughter's life."   Astonished, I tried to tell them I had nothing to do with it, that Dr. JF was the healer.   They agreed, but were not to be disuaded.  "We know", they replied, "but the clinic would not be here if it weren't for VHF.  So we want to thank you, so that you will tell everyone that they saved our daughter."   They still weren't finished.   Hesitantly they went on, "We could only send  Nathaelle to you, but we could not come until now.   She told us that everyone here was her mother and father while she was so sick."  I remembered how even our cooks were spending time with Nathaelle, comforting her and holding her hand in her distress. 

 

I could only promise to do my best to relay their gratitude.  That is the purpose of this message.  Would that every reader could have been there to see their faces.  You wouldn't soon forget them.        

 

Perhaps you would like to help future Nathaelle's.   You can do so here