Vignette of the day

Feb. 2, 2009, 3:05pm. Sunny and clear skies, but clouds rolling in at a distance.

Casa barrial, San Francisco. Sitting on curb next to the door, looking towards antiquated playground. Smells like rotting cow dung.

David: cute chubby boy with dark grey t-shirt, dark blue sweat pants. Always sweating profusely. Pulls down Mateo's light blue sweat pants down to his black suede shoes on top of the slide. Mateo screams, as Wendy (5-year old matriarch) slides down the slide, while Jeremy and Carlos climb the ladder up to the top of the slide. Holly yells at David. Dylan sits inside the mini-church to the left of the playground, listening to my ipod and singing along (or attempting) to "Thriller."

Ummm....OUCH.

Every Wed. morning, I shadow at a small "Diagnostic Center" called Waldos, where an American doctor, Dr. Lance Evans, works with his Ecuadorian wife Rosie, the lab technician, along with Freddy the radiologist, Rosanna the nurse/physician/lab assistant, and Dr. Hidalgo the surgeon.

Last Wed., I learned how to manually conduct a urinary ($2), feces ($2), and blood analysis ($4). Probably not the most olfactory-pleasing procedure I've done during my time here. (Toothpicks are more versatile than you might think...)

This morning, I was invited to come in to watch some sort of "finger surgery." Boy was I in for a surprise.

A man (let's call him Eduardo. Ed for shorts) in a yellow T and baggy dark blue sweat pants sits in the waiting room with a dejected look on his face. He comes into the "operating" room with Rosanna and Dr. Hidalgo. Oddly, his fingers look fine.

To my surprise, Rosanna takes off Ed's pants, who happens to be wearing a large diaper. There is a 10 inch vertical scar below his belly button. Then, this clear plastic material sticking out from the left side of his lower stomach catches my eye. It's a catheter, 3/4 filled with brown substances resembling the stuff I poke around with a toothpick on Wednesdays. What kind of "finger surgery" requires you to defecate into a plastic bag?

Rosanna takes off Ed's diaper. %&@*#*%!!!!!!!!

I proceed to gag, internally. I now understand why Ed needs a catheter. He has no anus. Instead, there are three large skin ruptures where his anus should have been. It literally looks like it has been ripped apart by a wild animal. The skin is shredded, and all I can see are the fatty tissue covered with blood. I have a pretty clear view, being just about two feet away. I clench my pelvic muscles and regain my composure.

The Doctor showed me pictures of how Ed's anal region had looked like before. I'm not sure how this was possible, but it had been 10x worse. Apparently, his condition now is great compared to before. In the picture, the holes were 3x as large, and instead of blood, there was just gushing pus. This poor, poor man.

Dr. Hidalgo sprays some cleansing liquid into the open wound, then puts a minuscule amount of anesthetic locally into one of the smaller holes. Ed never stops flinching throughout the entire procedure. I want to hold his hands but my feet are glued to the wooden floor. The clear thread turns bright red. The engine of the lawn mower starts running outside. The amount of blood is overwhelming. Ummm...OUCH.

After the smaller hole is finally stitched, I help Ed put his diaper back on, and tell him he's a brave, brave man. He has been through enough for a day, if not for a lifetime. And I'm here complaining about an inflamed tendon.... No matter how much pain I'm in, it can't top this.

I find out after that Ed had an abscess, or localized buildup of pus due to a bacterial infection, and had surgery in the coast. However, the surgery actually spread the infection even more, making it worse. Ed almost didn't make it. He was then brought to Quito to have additional surgery, which were fortunately more successful. The secret: the surgeons left the wound opened the 2nd time around, letting the wound breath to prevent anaerobic bacteria from multiplying. So the good news is, Ed is expected to have a full recovery in the future! Buena suerte, Ed!

In the meantime, I will be anxiously anticipating my next "finger surgery"....!!

Some over-typical questions

Questions I get asked by 99% of the people I meet, in no particular order (sometimes by the same people):

(E = Ecuadorian; M = Me)

1. So I learn, you are either single, or married. There is no in-between.

E: Estas soltera? (Are you single?)
M: No, tengo un novio. (No, I have a boyfriend.)
E: Oh, Ecuadoriano? (Oh, Ecuadorian?)
M: No, de los Estados Unidos. (No, from the US.)
E: Oh ok, estas casada? (Are you married?)
M: No.
E (confused): Entonces, estas soltera. (So, you are single.)
M: No...tengo un novio en los EEUU. (No...I have a boyfriend in the US.)
E: Te gustan los Ecuadorianos? (Do you like Ecuadorian boys?)
M: Uh...Si, pero... (Yes, but...)
E (cuts me off): Te presento Ecuadorianos muy buenos. (I'll introduce good Ecuadorian boys to you).
M: Uhhh....
E (getting excited): Vas a casarte aqui en Ecuador? (Are you going to get married in Ecuador?)
M: Noooo...
E: ...con un Ecuadoriano?! (with an Ecuadorian?!)
M (feeling awkward): Noooo.... no estoy soltera.... (Noooo... I'm not single.)
*Conversation starts over from the beginning*

2. No, not all Chinese people know karate.

E: Eres de China? (Are you from China?)
M: Si. (Yes.)
E: Hablas china? (Do you speak Chinese?)
M: Si. (Yes.)
E (asks me to say something in Chinese...)
M (says something in Chinese)
E ("woooow"): Conoces karate? (Do you know karate?)

3. Some things never change.

E: Cuantos anos tienes? (How old are you?)
M: Que piensas? (What do you think?)
E: Hmmm....15.