Miracles in Review

It’s hard to believe 2009 is coming to a close.  I think back on all the small miracles I’ve witnessed this year – many I could not record here.  Earlier this week, I ran into my patient who became the inspiration for this site (see About).  Unfortunately her hand infection had returned, but this time she knew what she needed to do.  After several days of good treatment, the infection disappeared.  I reminded her of how important it was to take care of oneself, including proper diet, restful sleep and reducing stress levels.  Of course, these are not always easy to do, but she recognized what contributed to her relapse.

Then, I heard from my patient Rose, AIDS survivor, who called me from Florida to wish me a Merry Christmas.  She is on an amazing HIV medication, Isentress, which has helped raise her CD4 count to over 1,000!  It was just fantastic to think how well she is doing, after coming so close to passing away.  It was great Christmas news!

I believe hope is vitally important.  While making rounds in the hospital this week, I did my best to encourage a patient who had a complicated abdominal surgery.  Because her pain level was high and she was feeling miserable, her condition wasn’t improving, even though she was on the right medicines.  I spent time with her, made sure her pain was controlled, and encouraged her to fight through.  Now, several days later, she’s doing really well and should be going home in the next few days.

Today I just received a ‘Happy New Year’ greeting from Dr. Camino, my first rabies mentor.  It was a pleasant reminder about the work we need to do for the rabies patients in the Philippines.  I’m looking forward to increasing our  educational efforts there to try and help.  There is so much to do!

All the best for the New Year!

RW

My first rabies mentor

When I first came to the Philippines, I was introduced to many of the doctors at San Lazaro Hospital.

My first rotation was with Dr. Camino. He must have been in this early fifties. He, like many Filipinos, was rather small. He sat behind a small old wooden desk, which was stacked with papers on each corner. He wore a wry smile and joked in Tagalog with the other doctors and patients which frequented his office. His office door would swing open, and a patient and family members would pour in, sometimes bearing gifts of sticky coconut cake or other ‘merienda’.

He wore a white polyester blazer and black polyester pants, with polished red-brown leather shoes. A stethescope hung over his shoulders, its chromium frame glinting under the fluorescent strip lights. The strong smell of nicotine washed over me as he laughed, all too perfect bright white teeth flashing behind a peppered mustache.

Dr. Camino had an infectious flamboyance, encouraging others to laugh at his silly jokes. He was a brilliant man, sharp of mind, but seeming unabsorbed with his genius. Laughing was his preoccupation. Caring for the patients on the ward seemed to be done automatically.

It was Dr. Camino that gave me the idea and the means to film the rabies patients I was seeing every week. I never even thought to bring a video camera on this rotation, but he lent me his – a solid Sony Hi-8 camcorder. I remember him telling me ‘They’ll never believe this’ – referring to the incredible disease manifestations of human rabies. He was right.