Cleft palates, sweaty scrubs and healed smiles

3-16-14

Christine Rushton, Murrow Backpack Journalist

Victor Ramirez.                                              Christine Rushton | Murrow College

All 37 pounds of 7-year-old Victor Ramirez twisted against the nurses’ hold. In his anesthesia-hazed mind, the Guatemalan boy jerked out of his IV drip as his face contorted in pain.

Victor came in to Hearts in Motion’s temporary hospital for surgery to fix his cleft palate. With the help of HIM volunteer doctor Ken Stein, Victor will now have the ability to chew his food.

Dr. Ken Stein administers a local anesthetic.   Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Watching the surgery in scrubs four sizes too big and with my camera in hand, I realized I would not often get the opportunity to observe a working operating room. The next two hours became critical for both me and the boy on the table.

Dr. Stein, a plastic surgeon from Chicago, stitched sutures in the non-air conditioned 100-degree heat to help Guatemalans like Victor who have disfigured lips and palates. Without the surgery, the patients would continue to struggle with eating and breathing.

Victor Ramirez.                                                       Christine Rushton | Murrow College

 

Forced to mash meals between their fingers and push what remains into their throat, patients often suffer malnutrition.

Before I met Victor, I shook hands with a Guatemalan girl named Heidy Avalos who had successfully recovered from her surgery four years ago. Her case was so advanced she had to travel to Spokane, Wash., to visit another HIM volunteer Dr. Mark Paxton.

Janet Holloway, Heidy’s host mom in Spokane, said she remembers when Heidy stayed with them for her surgery.

“She would take a French fry, smash it with her fingers, stuff it on the roof of her mouth, and swallow,” Janet said.

For Heidy, the worst is over; for Victor, the recovery has just begun.

The start of Victor's cleft palate surgery.                      Christine Rushton | Murrow College

In post-operation, the nurses shuffled Victor to his bed as they sterilized the 1940’s equipment they had to borrow in the make-shift operating room. I followed, camera in hand, to better understand what the children have to endure just to live.

Hours later, shirts drenched in sweat, supplies strewn about the hospital halls, the HIM volunteers set out for the hotel. But before hitting the cobblestone streets, I stole one last glance at Victor.

The photo I took of him by his mother speaks more words than I can write.

Victor and his mother.                                Christine Rushton | Murrow College