PRIMER IMPACTO
Wake up -- don't read my watch correctly without my glasses on and think I have ten minutes to dress, collect all my supplies, and get on bus (to say nothing of a possible shower or
breakfast) ... I panic --know I need to bring everything for the entire day (small wad of toilet paper -- very small supply in my hotel room, water, my own meds ... sunblock and hat for walks into and from town (from bus), "soles," glasses and Quechua dictionary, Spanish/English dictionary, various Applied Medical Spanish Books, note pad, pens, etc.
Bus is slow in coming, and I actually have 40 mins ... we take off and then have to
stop along the way for people from town who are partnering with us ... we arrive and are walking to Clinic -- word is out that we are here -- a few people see us dressed in scrubs and come up asking if we can help them.
Everybody from town is dressed the same -- everybody being women (few men come to the Clinic -- and then it's usually for our free prescription glasses).
Dress: even though it's 65-70 degrees F., knit leggings ( Alpaca or wool), several layers of wide skirts, layers of shirts and wool sweater and the famous bombín (Bowler hats).
Babies are carried in "manteles" slung over the mothers' backs and shoulders papoose-style.
We see lots of patients with worms -- one very old woman (who was actually 63 yrs.
old-- chronologically they all look older) says she hears worms "scream at night" in her stomach.
We see a lot who have bad vision (the climate is very dry and severe, so no small wonder)... we dispense eyedrops and give eye exams and give donated prescription glasses.
My first in-take patient is a small baby boy, nearly delirious in his mother's arms. We get him to our (really sharp-- amazing) Chilean-born pediatrician who sends him immediately to a hospital in the 'nearby' town of Cusco.
There are complaints of ringing in the ears and dizziness -- irrigations of ears reveal incredible, impacted wax and dusty debris ..
Some come with back pain from the heavy lifting and weight they carry in their manteles. They say they have pain in their "riñones" (kidneys), but I think it's the location of
the pain in their back they are describing ... they speak in terms of organs because they
butcher their own dinners ...so they know the body "parts" ...
There are several women who won't reveal to our male doctors that they are victims of
domestic violence but it's obvious ... I talk to a few privately and then to a female doctor at the Clinic who will follow up with them (there is a social agency in Cusco). The cycle is: they come with complaints of vaginal pain, STDs and UTIs caused by their husbands' wanderings --so they come,
are treated today, and then will come back with the same symptoms -- with no end in sight (the men refuse to use condoms, I'm told by the women). The women cry ...
One woman is 76 years old and has walked alone well over an hour on bumpy, dusty
roads to the Clinic -- she has to take the same route back over streets covered with stones, potholes, and the strong smell of urine. She waits for hours; I bring her water.
As a contrast, our hotel manager/owner brings us a hot lunch (little veggie "frittatas," rice, fried
yucca -- complete with real plates, water !!!, bread, and he ceremoniously serves us donning a
white toque. He's incredibly supportive of us as we are helping his people. He attends to us
as if we were family members.
Scenario for rest of afternoon: same routine -- we see patients, translate like crazy, and give out
prescriptions filled at the pharmacy we set up by our own pharmacist.
All the students get incredible hands-on practice and training. They also connect to the natives using
their Spanish skills.
One young man is seen for eye strain he says is caused by the glare of his computer (!)
screen and receives his eye drops and sees we are having enormous trouble understanding an
Andean woman speaking Quechua. He patiently stays and offers to translate as he is bilingual
(Castellano (which is Spanish)/Quechua). Turns out he works as an intern at times in this Clinic, and
is studying IT which explains the computer comment.
So, the translating goes like this: the old woman who has chest pain and eye problems speaks to him (in
Quechua). He then speaks to me and one of our students in Spanish. We then speak Spanish
back to him and he to her in Quechua. Ultimately, I speak English to the doc who tells me what
to say. I speak Spanish, explaining the doc's recommendations, to the Quechua/Castellano
translator who tells the patient in Quechua what the doc has determined. However, it bounces
around sometimes back and forth and not always in one direction of the "circle" we create.
We come back to our EcoHotel, have a meeting and dinner and I dance with Jorge (the owner)
at our dinner to the great surprise ands amusement of our team. If I hear music, I gotta dance.
As I do each night, I brush my teeth with bottled water, get into heavy sweatpants and a fleece
jacket (it's really cold) and get into bed with all these layers on. Can't take a shower ... too tired.
I pray for Marisa .. one of our patients I made a promise to ... she's separated from
her husband, came in for gyne problem and I attended her pelvic exam and she cried when we were
in private as she told me her story of her husband's abandonment of herself and her two children.
She told me of his new "woman" and child. I pray.
