Week Seventeen
The Miracle of Life
31.01.2012
On Mondays and Wednesdays my friend and I volunteer at a health clinic in Yanahuara. Yanahuara is the midpoint between Ollantaytambo and Urubamba, so we usually see a fair amount of patients. As neither my friend nor myself is qualified to do any real medical work, we have taken over the “check-in” duties. We weigh the patients, take the their temperature, measure their blood pressure, and sift through one of the most unorganized file systems in the world. Yesterday, however, things got a little more interesting.
I live a very nice life down here in Peru. So nice, in fact, that one of the most stressful parts of my week is coming up with worthwhile things to put in my blog. As I was riding the packed Combi to Yanahuara yesterday, I realized that this week’s entry was going be insanely dull unless something completely astonishing happened at the clinic. Lucky for you all, that’s exactly what happened.
My friend was sick, so I was on my own for the day. At about 8:30 the first patient walked in. She was wearing somewhere between eight and twelve alpaca ponchos, making it difficult to see that she was almost ten months pregnant. Oblivious to the real reason she had come into the clinic, I began weighing her and taking her blood pressure. When my work was done, I sent her to talk to the doctor down the hall. Her husband waited outside, nervously pacing back and forth. After two minutes of waiting, the doctor poked his head out the door and asked me if I wanted to see a “parto”. Of course, I had no idea what that meant, so I smiled and said “of course”.
Turns out, this woman was three weeks late, seven centimeters dilated, and thirty minutes away from delivering her first child. I have had my fair share of awkward moments over the years, but yesterday’s shift at the clinic takes the cake. The woman, Maria, must have thought I was an American doctor doing my rotation at this health clinic because she kept looking at me with these eyes that said “DO SOMETHING!” I myself was still in shock from learning what “parto” really means and was therefore completely unable to do anything but say the word “breathe” over and over again. I think I was saying it more to myself than to her. At no point in my life did I think I would be put in this situation. The next half hour flew by. We cleaned the bed and prepared the room as best we could, praying the other nurses were on their way.
As uncomfortable as I was, the birth of this child was one of the most incredible things I have ever witnessed. The delivery went smoothly, and out of all the noise and chaos came a beautiful, perfect little boy. I was in shock – utterly speechless.
After I recovered from my shift, my brother Joe informed me that we would be spending this weekend in Puno, the city surrounding Lake Titicaca. While I’m sure I will have no trouble finding a story there for my next blog entry, I doubt that it will be nearly as epic as this week’s.
All the best,
Katie
Posted by ktconroy1604 08:07 Archived in Peru
Katie,
That sounds like an amazing experience....one you'll never forget. The woman was lucky to have you there with her. Have fun with Joe next weekend!
Ann
05.02.2012 by anncon