Rotaplast in Guatemala 2006

Hi Everybody,

I though I would write a few words about my recent trip to Guatemala…..It was nothing short of a life altering event.

As many of you know, I was selected to work with a Rotary surgical team that was traveling to Guatemala City to perform cleft lip and palate operations for the disadvantaged poor and Indian populations in the area. Some of these families had to walk for many hours just to get to a bus that they may have had to ride for a day or so just to get in to the city.

Our group consisted of 25 people. 16 were surgeons, doctors, nurses and anesthesiologists. Nine of us were Rotary volunteers. Our jobs were translators, medical records, sterilization, photography….mine was quartermaster. I was in charge getting our two tons of supplies and equipment down there and keep everybody supplied with whatever they needed. I sure learned a lot about specialized medical equipment and supplies when later during the first week we ran low on a few critical items and I was sent to comb the labyrinth which is Guatemala City. Everyone on the team was incredible. Wonderful people who worked amazing hours….no complaints, just a “Let’s get as many done safely and professionally as we can while we are here” attitude.

A typical day…..Up at 5:30…..the bus leaves for the hospital at 6:15. If there was no traffic…we could get to the military hospital by 6:35. There was only no traffic during weekends and holidays….the rest of the time, traffic was a zoo where lanes were “merely a suggestion” and thousands of buses belched out a phenomenal amount of think black exhaust with every acceleration. Super polluted downtown and we choked through the haze and confusion. Normally we would roll in around 7:15. I would unlock all of the various doors and make sure all of the operating and recovery rooms were supplied. Then it was time to bring up the first two sets of three children. It was almost comical sometimes because we would have two or three surgery schedule revisions by 8:00am due to some people not showing up the night before, or they might have a fever….or the worst….the children had eaten within the 8 hour window. After the first three were taken in to surgery, I would guide the trembling or teary eyed mothers to the waiting room. Usually after an hour or so…the first kids were coming out of the operating rooms. Since the nurses were so busy collecting all of their vital signs and getting the reports from the doctors/anesthesiologists…we were asked to hold all of the children from about four months up to 7 or 8 years old.

That was a magical time….because you knew what they looked like when they went into surgery, (some of these poor children had such unbelievably deformed mouths and noses, I could not imagine how they would ever be put back together…..plus as cruel as kids can be….some had never played with other children due to the constant ridicule and physical abuse.) When they came out….it was just amazing! The gifted surgeons had worked wonders. Most would wake up gently and not have a clue what was in store for them when they were going to look in the mirror for the first time. Other woke up as if just ejected from hell. So we would continue calming them until they settled down enough for their worried and anxious mothers to be led into the room. Some mothers burst into tears, others were weak in the knees, and still others were in shock. Mom would gently be placed in a chair, and then I would carefully place their child in their arms. More often than not, as I turned away to greet the next mom or child, I too was in tears.

This would go on until someone said…”these are the last three of the day!” It always surprised me to look up and see the clock saying that it was 8 or 9 in the evening. Never had I worked so long or hard and had no idea that time was passing. I never even felt tired until the bus ride back to the hotel. The actual surgeries that I was able to observe first hand were truly works of art.

(On the first day we were told to expect 175 families for the 110 possible slots. There were 243 families all with hope in their eyes. We were met by an Army General who ran the hospital, the wife of the Defense Minister, a slew of TV and newspaper reporters…..and of course the huge presence of the 243 families. The first day was clinic, or a screening of all the children there to determine; who could be operated on….who was too sick or weak for surgery, who might need only some dentistry, or who would be referred to the next mission in the Fall. This was a very long day that was finally finished about 10:00pm that night.)

Two other memorable events….on one of the Sundays, the local Rotarians, (who were just wonderful and very generous.), took us on a day trip to Antigua, a beautiful city in the mountains. Great historical architecture, ruins, art galleries, nice restaurants and plenty of children selling their handcrafted items in very comical ways. They did not know much English, but the words they did know were priceless…. (One girl who could not have been more that six worked on me for about a half an hour in Spanish to buy a necklace….and finally out of nowhere she said, “Look, business is business”…it was so funny that I caved in and bought it.)

The other was my last day….I had just gotten back to the hospital from the airport where I was obtaining everybody’s’ boarding pass for the flight out the next day…..when the head matriarch of the Guatemalan Rotarians came up and said…”You’re a pilot right? Do you want to go on a helicopter ride to look at Mayan ruins, beautiful lakes and volcanoes?” Yeah baby!!!! That was great. The scenery was spectacular, the pilot-ex military, and a real pro that did not shy away from extreme maneuvers and I was already on cloud nine when he asked…”I hear you fly….do you want to take it for a while?” “I’m in heaven”, I thought…It was soooo much fun and a day I’ll never forget.

Yes, I know, I said a few words…but I have really only scratched to surface of an incredible experience. I hope I have not bored you in telling the tale…..Oh, one last thing for all you tailgators out there….During the closing ceremonies, the General of the hospital was awarding certificates of appreciation, as is often the case…The whole party exploded in laughter when my name was announced as “DR. Christopher Lange Brannan”…..with a “diploma” to prove it.

Love,

Chris