Just Say “Yes”

I had heard about this trip for years from my colleague and friend, Dr. Lauri Pramuk. Many times I wanted to be a part of it, but I could never quite fit it into my busy life.

This year, when Lauri asked me to join the alumni team for a week of clinic and teaching in Cobán, I simply said, "yes." I wasn't sure how I would make it happen - with a practice to run and patients to care for at home - but I had faith that it was the right thing to do.

I leave with a profound sense of gratitude. Grateful for the medical care we were able to provide for the children. Grateful for the donors of this program, whose generosity allowed us to get X-rays to rule out congenital hip dysplasia in a baby, and seizure medication for kids with epilepsy - and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Grateful for an engineer's mind that could see the possibility of 3D-printing prostheses so that a three-year-old could stand and walk for the first time. Grateful for the young people on our trip, who brought enthusiasm, fun, and compassion beyond what I have witnessed in a long time.

This week also reminded me that so much of what we do in medicine is for the good of the patient, but also for the good of the community. Those reminders came easily:

A child with measles, in a country with an ongoing measles outbreak, too young to be vaccinated. Without adequate resources and education, the vaccination rate there falls below the threshold needed to provide herd immunity and prevent an outbreak.

A child with congenital hypothyroidism and profound disabilities, in a country where newborn screening is not done, and she never had the opportunity to be treated at birth.

A child with a seizure disorder, out of medication for some time and having many prolonged seizures daily. His mother forced to choose between buying food for the family and buying this child's medication.

These children remind me how precious many of the systems we often take for granted truly are. Vaccines. Newborn screening. Access to medications. They are not perfect, and they are not available equally to everyone, but they save lives and prevent suffering every single day.

They also remind me that we have a responsibility to do better for the children in our own communities. When these resources are available, we must do everything we can to ensure that every child has access to them.  What happens in Guatemala for lack of resources should never happen in the US for lack of resolve.

My gratitude is palpable today. But gratitude flowed both ways this week. I heard "thank you" more times than I could count, often in a language I only marginally understand. I collected hugs from patients, mothers, fathers, students, and colleagues that will buoy me up for a long time.

For years, I couldn't find room in my life for this trip. This year, I simply said yes. It was the right thing to do.  I came to Guatemala hoping to make a difference. Instead, Guatemala changed me.

Thank you, Ciudad de la Esperanza. The City of Hope. It truly lives up to its name. My hope now is to carry a small piece of that hope home with me, allowing it to shape not only how I practice medicine, but how I serve my own community.

Stephanie Stevens, MD