Written by MS4BCV
Regardless of the perils faced during the course of a long and stressful day, one always has the comfort of a hot shower to look forward to; a few minutes of warmth and solace in which to forget about the day’s trials and tribulations. As if life at the burn center wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the children can’t even depend on a warm soak to sooth their misfortunes. Instead, their weekly bath consists of a lawn chair and a bucket of water. This footage is of Sarah, a four year old girl who was burned on her forehead when her brother tipped a boiling pot of water onto her and her older sister Maribel. Consistent with most events for the children at the burn center, her bath is obviously very traumatic. One thing that the camera doesn’t capture is the violence with which Sarah is shivering throughout the process. During her bath, we discovered that towels and baby shampoo are two luxuries the center is forced to do without. As is visible in this clip, they use hand soap to wash Sarah, and then dry her with bed sheets.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Country Boy
Written by MS4BCV
Last Friday, the burn center was transformed into a trauma surgery room. We gasped as we watched Dr. Romero unwrap a 12 year old boys right leg. It was obvious this was no burn victim. His skin had been ripped to shreds, and every muscle in his thigh was exposed. With our well developed "Spanglish" we were able to decipher the word "Vaca" meaning cow which was the demise of this young man. He was mauled by a long horn while working on his family's farm. Because his diet consisted of the typical rice and potatoes of a poor Bolivian family he had absolutely no fat on his legs. Because his condition was very fragile, it was vital that Dr. Romero knew the exact state of his health. At this moment Dr. Romero turned to us and asked MS4BCV to provide the finances for his lab work in hopes of his survival throughout the weekend- only $25. We are able to see first hand how every single dollar counts down here. Someone's sacrifice saved this young man's life. Yesterday we saw him, and he was alert, infection free and stable. We are waiting until Friday in hopes that he will be strong enough to survive surgery.
El Presidente
Written by MS4BCV
Evo, named after Evo Morales the current president of Bolivia , was recently mentioned by the girls in one of their blogs. While the girls continue to do an outstanding job serving children like Evo, we have returned home, and now have the capacity to upload the numerous videos we shot at the burn center. This in mind, I thought it only appropriate to share the impact that Evo had on our experience in Cochabamba.
Two years old, he lay flat on his stomach with his right arm and leg tied to his crib to prevent him from rolling on his back. He was sedated to alleviate the pain of the burns he suffered on his butt, and the debridement that followed to expedite their healing. Although the exact cause of his burns was never revealed, it was speculated that they were a result of a custom of burning a child’s rear-end with coals to quell the onset of diarrhea. He had been abandoned by both his mother and father, and was under the supervision of his two uncles at the time of his injury. Aside from his burns, he was severely malnourished. He was covered by what could best be described as a tent of blankets constructed to keep him warm while preventing direct contact with his exposed burns.
Our first day at Burn Center Viedma, the sight of his hazy brown eyes peering up at us from beneath this heap of covers was overwhelming. All that he wished to say, but was yet unable, was written with the mastery of Whitman in the expressions on his face. In each wrinkle of his brow and twist of his lip I saw the fear, frustration, hunger, pain, and solitude that defined his brief existence. Yet as my eyes began to water and I started to slip into hopelessness, he extended his tiny hand and wrapped it around my finger. With this gesture, Evo introduced me to reality. His simple touch made all that was composed within the poignant expressions of his face tangible. Once accepted as concrete, hopelessness gave way to empowerment. "We can help you", I thought silently to myself.
The day of our departure from Cochabamba we stopped at the burn center to say goodbye to the children. Fully recovered and fifteen pounds heavier, Evo was found alone playing on the floor. Grasping the same finger he had three weeks prior, he led me on a walk through the halls of the hospital. The agony that had previously been portrayed on his gaunt face was replaced by smiles and demands for more food. Yet the time came to say goodbye, and I led him back to where I found him earlier in the day. I gave him a hug, said so long, sat him down and turned to walk away. I fought looking back with every ounce of my judgment, yet as I rounded the corner it was unavoidable. Two outstretched arms, a face furrowed with disapproval, and tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. It’s an image that’s burned into my psyche. I was abandoning him, much as his mother and father had, and although our brief presence in his life harbored a fraction of the influence of a parent, the statement in his expression will haunt me forever.
Evo, named after Evo Morales the current president of Bolivia , was recently mentioned by the girls in one of their blogs. While the girls continue to do an outstanding job serving children like Evo, we have returned home, and now have the capacity to upload the numerous videos we shot at the burn center. This in mind, I thought it only appropriate to share the impact that Evo had on our experience in Cochabamba.
Two years old, he lay flat on his stomach with his right arm and leg tied to his crib to prevent him from rolling on his back. He was sedated to alleviate the pain of the burns he suffered on his butt, and the debridement that followed to expedite their healing. Although the exact cause of his burns was never revealed, it was speculated that they were a result of a custom of burning a child’s rear-end with coals to quell the onset of diarrhea. He had been abandoned by both his mother and father, and was under the supervision of his two uncles at the time of his injury. Aside from his burns, he was severely malnourished. He was covered by what could best be described as a tent of blankets constructed to keep him warm while preventing direct contact with his exposed burns.
Our first day at Burn Center Viedma, the sight of his hazy brown eyes peering up at us from beneath this heap of covers was overwhelming. All that he wished to say, but was yet unable, was written with the mastery of Whitman in the expressions on his face. In each wrinkle of his brow and twist of his lip I saw the fear, frustration, hunger, pain, and solitude that defined his brief existence. Yet as my eyes began to water and I started to slip into hopelessness, he extended his tiny hand and wrapped it around my finger. With this gesture, Evo introduced me to reality. His simple touch made all that was composed within the poignant expressions of his face tangible. Once accepted as concrete, hopelessness gave way to empowerment. "We can help you", I thought silently to myself.
The day of our departure from Cochabamba we stopped at the burn center to say goodbye to the children. Fully recovered and fifteen pounds heavier, Evo was found alone playing on the floor. Grasping the same finger he had three weeks prior, he led me on a walk through the halls of the hospital. The agony that had previously been portrayed on his gaunt face was replaced by smiles and demands for more food. Yet the time came to say goodbye, and I led him back to where I found him earlier in the day. I gave him a hug, said so long, sat him down and turned to walk away. I fought looking back with every ounce of my judgment, yet as I rounded the corner it was unavoidable. Two outstretched arms, a face furrowed with disapproval, and tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. It’s an image that’s burned into my psyche. I was abandoning him, much as his mother and father had, and although our brief presence in his life harbored a fraction of the influence of a parent, the statement in his expression will haunt me forever.
The Great Fidel
Written by MS4BCV
Fidel is a 10 year old boy who has been waiting since march for reconstructive surgery on his horribly scared face. Physicians from wake forest put in a skin expander in march and it was on wednesday that Dr. Romero performed his reconstructive surgery. This gave him skin that looked as if it had never been burned on his lower face and neck. Today when we arrived at the burn center we realized how much this young boy has been through already in his life. Not only was he burned, lives in an orphanage, but he is now undergoing even more surgery in hopes of a normal life one day. We know that the strength that these children possess come from a source that we will never understand. These kids have no insurance, no family, minimal hygeine, and they undergo traumas and insecurites that we would never survive. It really makes us greatful for the life we have been given. This confirms our mission to help those who have greater needs than our own.
Toys, Toys, Toys!
Written by MS4BCV
Every day we discover things that we wouldn't think twice about that are needed here. Anai is about 3 years old and her surgery on Friday was a big wake up call for us. The worst part of the surgery was not that she woke up twice during it crying for her mother, but that her surgery could have been prevented. After she was burned on her arms, her parents neglected to take her to physical therapy or to make her wear her burn suit so that she could heal properly. She developed awful scars and her skin was like leather. Her arm was permanently bent so that she could no longer use it. Now, Anai has to have even more surgery to try and fix her arm so that she is not disabled. This morning we walked into the burn center and immediately wanted to see how she was doing. We saw her laying flat on her back with both of her arms tied to the crib so that she cannot tear off her bandages from surgery. She has no entertainment except for the white ceilings and the nurses who can occasionally talk to her. This is where we are helping, not only with our time, but with the things that this fundraiser has allowed us to purchase. We are buying toys, blankets, and things for the kids who are confined to their cribs until their skin has healed. It is a great joy when you see how easy it is to make their lives a little better.
We're Not in Kansas, Toto!
Written by MS4BCV
Over the last three days, we have seen many surgeries ranging from minor to life-threatening. On our first day in the hospital, we met a 15 month old boy who had fallen into a fire of hot coals. Unable to get himself out, he lay burning as his intoxicated parents neglected to notice. His palms are destroyed by deep third degree burns exposing the muscles, and his hands may have to be amputated. Second and third degree burns cover his body and the right half of his face. We are scheduled to participate in skin graft surgery tomorrow in an attempt to recover the skin on his face, eyelid and ear.
On the other side of the operating room door, there are two of our favorite children. Natalia and Evo are about the same age and equally bossy. They have become as much of a part of the burn center as the nurses and doctors. Both came in malnourished and frail. Now, they are plump, full of spirit and always looking for a hand to hold. They make us forget about the suffering that fills each room until we hear the whimpering and crying of a new patient who has just come out of surgery calling for his mother. The children are left with only white coats to attempt to comfort them. Parents are no where to be found due to the strict visitation rules and the inability to afford the stay in the city while their child is undergoing treatment.
Within the first week at the hospital, we have already noticed "luxury" items that the children desperately need since they share the same few toys and are confined to their beds for most of the day. Next week, we will head to the Concha, or market, to shop for items that will put smiles on these sad faces.
I Feel Like I'm at Home
Written by MS4BCV
We arrived this weekend to Cochabamba after many crazy adventures in the airport: such as 24 hours of travel time, almost missing our flight, altitude sickness and getting off the plane in rainbows and capris only to find out it's 32 degrees in La Paz (see picture). Now that we are here, we think it is well worth the journey. After getting off the plane standing in the wrong customs line, the first thing we thought we were asked was "were you chewing?" We had no idea what the woman meant - it was at that moment that we knew we were no longer in America. Later, that same day, Jessica slept on the sidewalk next to the taxis and due to the altitude sickness, Ashley stated that she felt "right at home" being the only blond in the airport of Bolivians. We think that we were suffering from a lack of sleep after we tried to get on wrong plane twice, making our flight 5 minutes before take-off.
Enough about travel. Today was our first day at the burn center. At this moment, we really felt as though our trip had begun. These children are a different kind of beautiful. We almost forget the language barrier because these children just need someone to hold their hand. We are just skimming the surface of what we are going to learn about these children, and we have already decided that we want to take them all home with us. Today, we helped put the compression suits on the children and tried to show them that we were there to help. There were lots of tears and smiles, and we are so excited to see what the next three weeks hold. As we learn, you will learn.
We arrived this weekend to Cochabamba after many crazy adventures in the airport: such as 24 hours of travel time, almost missing our flight, altitude sickness and getting off the plane in rainbows and capris only to find out it's 32 degrees in La Paz (see picture). Now that we are here, we think it is well worth the journey. After getting off the plane standing in the wrong customs line, the first thing we thought we were asked was "were you chewing?" We had no idea what the woman meant - it was at that moment that we knew we were no longer in America. Later, that same day, Jessica slept on the sidewalk next to the taxis and due to the altitude sickness, Ashley stated that she felt "right at home" being the only blond in the airport of Bolivians. We think that we were suffering from a lack of sleep after we tried to get on wrong plane twice, making our flight 5 minutes before take-off.Enough about travel. Today was our first day at the burn center. At this moment, we really felt as though our trip had begun. These children are a different kind of beautiful. We almost forget the language barrier because these children just need someone to hold their hand. We are just skimming the surface of what we are going to learn about these children, and we have already decided that we want to take them all home with us. Today, we helped put the compression suits on the children and tried to show them that we were there to help. There were lots of tears and smiles, and we are so excited to see what the next three weeks hold. As we learn, you will learn.
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