The Hospital, Pt. 1

Two weeks ago we had a terrifying incident just outside of our Living Quarters.

Bub's 3 year old, best friend from school named Kevin, rode his bicycle out into the street between the school and the LQ...and was run over by a truck.

It was horrifying to see his bicycle lodged under the wheels of the truck, little Kevin's body had been run over by the front wheels...miraculously, due to his slight stature, his head was not crushed by the wheels on the other side of the truck.

When an injury happens Here, the situation is even more dire, at least to this Westerner's mind.  Health care Here is a sobering proposition.  Many a foreigner I've heard say that if they needed medical help, they would do anything/everything possible to avoid submitting themselves to the local hospital's care.

(Please note, this does not mean that the care here is not improving by leaps and bounds...we are in a nation flooding its major cities with millions of dollars in technology...this is the perspective of a person who has been raised in the standards of health care in the West.  I do not mean to sound as though I don't respect the various advancements being made around me daily.  My neighbors are far better off than they were just a few years ago in this respect.  The expectations of privacy, sanitary conditions, patient's rights, and even recovery/care are vastly different.  If you are unclear of some of these issues, check out some of my earlier 2008 posts dealing with visits to the Hospital.)

At any rate, little Kevin was whisked away to the local "hospital for children" which in the West is synonymous with "best care practices for children."  I've been instructed by one of the leading Doctors here in our city that unfortunately, this distinction does not belong to the pediatric hospitals nationwide.  In fact, they are known by Doctors, if my source is correct, to be sub-standard hospitals.

Little Kevin has some significant injuries,  a broken hip socket, dislocated bones, internal bleeding...to name what I could decipher through the broken translation.

His current therapy includes an iron pelvis "brace," an iron ball hanging off the end of the bed, tied to the affected leg for the purpose of traction, and being tied to the bed.  A "surgery" was performed to restore the bones to their rightful positions, but no hardware was used (and perhaps not indicated) to secure the bones.  He was injured two weeks ago and has been tied to the bed ever since.  He was given an IV, and for a period of time during the internal bleeding, he was taken off food and water.

Further surgery was recommended, but the local family has inadequate insurance.  The cost of the surgery is estimated at 100,000 RMB.  This family likely makes about 2000 RMB per month...the cost of the surgery is a fortune to them.  A donation drive was quickly undertaken on their behalf and a sizable sum was raised.

I've continued to worry that Little Kevin was not getting the best treatment available...and so, made the recommendation that they get a second opinion about his care, surgery, and treatment.

On Tuesday, when dropping off the New Guys at the Kindergarten room I was presented with two bags of X-Rays.  I was told that they were Little Kevin's, and asked if could I take them to my "Doctor Friend" and get a second opinion.

Wow.  This was sort of unusual.  I began to consider,  "I have a child's X-Rays, I'm the foreigner who has limited contacts...and the hope is clearly in me that I can help him in some way."  My chest tightened from the pressure that this situation placed upon me...me...who speaks limited Chinese...who hates to go to the local hospital...being asked to be the one to go and solicit a second opinion for Kevin's treatment. 

The hospital is about a 45 minute drive from where we live.  I had no car.  I had to teach until 2:30...make dinner for the peeps after that...and the hope of finding a way to help this boy recover from a potentially life-altering accident...has been unceremoniously placed upon me.

I began to pray as I walked to my office..."Father, why me?  What can I do?  What if I can't do what they want me to do?"

Then, I submitted myself to the unknown of the predicament, breathed out a prayer that I would trust Him to guide me and be my help in my weakness...and made plans to get to the hospital...as soon as possible...

More, later...must run and get the tribe to school....