Peru Part Two: in which things get better, then worse, then better, then just plain frustrating, and Jess becomes a godmother

After Monday´s success, we were pretty excited to get to the hospital on Tuesday to start our work. That excitement was soon deflated when the first two patients (out of four) didn´t show up. Add to that continued confusion with the Ministry of Health and, aggravatingly, Peruvian customs agents, and I was ready to throw in the towel by lunchtime. In the early afternoon, things reached crisis phase when our third patient didn´t arrive, and we began doubting that we should even continue the mission. Thinking back, it´s pretty unbelievable that I didn´t break down in tears at any point during the day. However, the hospital administration assured us that the paperwork was just a formality, and the third patient appeared a bit late with his family, and we got to work. Never mind that during the last operation of the day, someone plugged in a machine without using a voltage converter and blew a fuse and fried the machine, rendering it unusable and canceling two procedures for the following day. We were badly beaten but not KO´d.

On Tuesday afternoon we saw more potential patients. One girl´s parents came in with her one-year-old brother in tow, a boy we all thought was a girl because of his very long hair. The parents explained that normally, a child´s godfather is the first person to cut his hair, but they didn´t have a godfather for their child. So, they proposed that we all cut his hair, thereby becoming his godparents! (Attention party poopers: please do not point out to me that there are errors in this logic; I will ignore you. Also, this is obviously a symbolic title, since religiously speaking I am totally unfit to be anybody´s godmother.) So we all took turns cutting off locks of his beautiful hair, chopping away with a pair of extremely dull safety scissors. Tuesday evening, I made my second Peruvian TV appearance on a show called ¨Variedades¨ which is broadcast live. It was a talk-show kind of setting, with couches and very enthusiastic (him) and surgically enhanced (her) hosts.

Wednesday, things began to look up. We put surgical work on hold until we discovered exactly what official paperwork was missing and completed it. All our patients showed up at the appointed time, and we even added a few new ones to our schedule. Many questions remained but for the first time, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thankfully, yesterday, our last day of surgery, was completely successful! Actually, one patient didn´t appear until the end of the day, to apologize for not coming earlier, and explaining that their priest had advised against medical intervention! The surgeons finished up around 5, while I spent several tedious afternoon hours carefully counting all of the leftover medical equipment we would donate to the hospital. We were in a great mood last night, and I was thrilled to meet up with my friends Marco and Edward, who will be my travel companions for the next week. The whole team went out to dinner, and we all drank too much Chilean wine at dinner and made a ruckus in a fancy restaurant, but were so glad that it had all worked out well that we didn´t care.

Today, the rest of the team went to Machu Picchu, and I spent the day at the hospital, meeting with the head administrator. (Frustratingly, the hospital director seems to have disappeared and I haven´t seen her since Wednesday morning.) The purpose of the meeting was to discuss the fees that we owe them for use of their facilities, beds, x-ray machines, lights, electricity, space, air, etc. Amazingly, the huge pile of medicines and equipment doesn´t seem to count for much (¨acetaminophen? that´s no use to us, we use ibuprofen here.¨) I am completely fed up with these hospital people, their long lunches, mysterious disappearances, and most of all with their assumption that we rich Americans owe them thousands of dollars. In the end we are paying for the x-rays, and to ensure that our patients get the attention they need we are paying for all follow-up procedures. When I left them they were still in the process of taking inventory of our materials, separating out what they can use from what they can´t, and being unbelievably irritating. I don´t want to assume that they should just be so grateful to us, because after all, we did take them by surprise, and disrupted their week. But really, they should be a bit grateful, shouldn´t they?

Anyway, apart from what should be a quick visit on Monday morning, and some patient care instructions I have to e-mail to the head osteopod, I am now done with the medical portion of this trip. I´m going to celebrate with a Pisco Sour or three.

Here are some photos to highlight the week. Unfortunately, I don´t seem to have any photos of the haircutting ceremony; I´ll have to get them from somebody else´s camera.

Little Fiorella draws a family portrait while waiting her turn with the doctors:

My second shot at television stardom:

An amazing experience at the end of the day: twins are born by emergency C-section, and who better to hand them off to (just 15 minutes or so old, before meeting their own family, even) than the nearest gringa? The youngest babies I´ve ever held (look closely, I´m holding both of them):