It is half ten in the morning as I ask Conor, “who is winning?” “Paulie
is”, he replies, “her blood is pumping
faster than yours”. Suddenly Paulie takes a turn for the worse as sweat pumps from her body.
Two nurses rush to her aid as she becomes weak and starts to faint. They place a substance
under her nose and a bag over her mouth in an attempt to bring some life back
to her limp body and colour to her pale face.
Seeing that Paulie is still struggling I start into a rendition of
“Irish Soldier Laddie”. Immediately not only a smile but some colour returns to
Paulie’s face .Shortly afterwards our machines stop as we both deliver a pint of blood. Paulie is declared the
winner. However we both hope that today there will be only one true victor and
his name won´t be Paulie or John, but Joel, not only a patient of the home, but
a friend.
In a nearby lonely operating theatre brave Joel is waiting for a life
saving heart operation. The operation is to place a prosthetic valve in his heart. In Peru
there are no blood banks so this morning, worried family, friends and
volunteers have come to donate blood, hoping a young life will be saved. This is just one amazing story from many, of
the ‘bus journey to Limas´ hospitals.”
Every week from Monday to Friday we (volunteers) travel with the workers
and kids from the home to Lima´s
hospitals. The bus journey starts at km 24 on Peru´s central highway. In the morning heat we pack
the kids onto a public bus heading for Lima.
The bus journeys are full of excitement and horror as we travel beside the
River Rimac passing dusty shanty towns that house the inhabitants of Limas 7.6
million population ( 19th most populated city in the world) As buses race to pick up paying punters , impoverished
vendor’s will try sell ice creams , drinks , newspapers , chewing gum and utensils through the bus windows. Sadly not
everyone lives to tell the tale and I myself have already seen two corpses laid
out on the road.
After an hour we arrive at the San Juan De Dios (Orthopaedic hospital),
one out of five hospitals that the kids attend. The others include the
children’s hospital, Cancer
Hospital, Cayetano (Burns
treatment), Dos de Mayo (Older Kids).
It is in these over crowded, under staffed hospitals that the kids will
receive chemotherapy, physical therapy, occupational therapy and scar tissue
treatment. Others will need operations
ranging from cataract transplants and heart surgery, to the most common procedures
to correct their deformed limbs.
It is behind these walls that the kids will learn their fate. Some will
need minor operations, others will be told there is a chance, while a few will
be told that no medicine can save them and their life is in the hands of God.
For eight months, up to five days a week I have been bringing the kids
to the hospitals of Lima.
I have helped with physical therapy, occupational therapy, water therapy, and x
rays. I have been asked to give money to a man to assist him in burying his son,
been asked to donate blood to a random stranger and also asked to look for the kid with a missing leg.
I have sadly held the death certificate of a three month old baby. I have
talked to kids that can’t remember their parent’s names. I have looked into
kids eyes knowing that they can’t see me. I have looked into kids eyes sadly
knowing that they don’t have long to live.
In these eight months I have seen things that would weaken an immortal,
and heard things that would make a grown man cry. However in the midst of
wondering “why oh why” I have also been engulfed by an over whelming joy. I
have seen malformed babies taking their first step, limbs being saved, burns
fade, the re-growth of hair after chemo, malnourished children being fed,
diseases cured, kids given a warm bed. I have seen kids given the gift of
school , a chance to learn, maybe someday rule , but
most of all I see among their struggling plight, I see kids given not only the
gift of youth but more importantly the
gift of life.
John w
