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"....!!