A Packages of Hope team had visited Changchun earlier this year. At this time, Hannah had just received a tiny little infant girl to her center. She had a tumor on her back (a meningocele - Spina Bifida). She was in need of a surgery, or else she risked infection due to complications from this tumor.
We sprang into action, and along with other wonderful donors, sponsored this girl's surgery.
The surgery had been performed a few days before I arrived, and I was able to visit this girl after her surgery.
It is important to note the inner workings of the Jilin Provincial Hospital. I must admit, this is the first time I've dealt in this much detail with a hospital in China. Apparently, for good or ill, there's no such thing as "Medical Insurance", "Medicare/Medicaid", or nearly the amount of paperwork that we're used to dealing with.
- you enter the hospital
- the doctors give you a look over, give you a diagnosis
- they give you a quote on the cost (in this girl's case, for example, for one of the shunt surgeries, they said "10,000 RMB"... interesting - not "9995.99", Not "8541", just a flat 10K. It makes you wonder how much accounting goes into the calculation...)
- They demand a certain percentage "down" prior to the surgery (in this girl's case, 20%)
- You pay a flat rate for the hospital room, post operation
- you have to have someone to come in and care for you in a hospital bed, like a family member or whatever. That person has to help change your bandages, feed you (YOU have to get your own food!), and change your bedpan.
- in the case of this girl, Hannah's had to hire a nanny from her center to stay with the child, TWENTY FOUR HOURS/SEVEN DAYS PER WEEK! And this girl has been there over 45 days this time!
- you enter the hospital
- the doctors give you a look over, give you a diagnosis
- they give you a quote on the cost (in this girl's case, for example, for one of the shunt surgeries, they said "10,000 RMB"... interesting - not "9995.99", Not "8541", just a flat 10K. It makes you wonder how much accounting goes into the calculation...)
- They demand a certain percentage "down" prior to the surgery (in this girl's case, 20%)
- You pay a flat rate for the hospital room, post operation
- you have to have someone to come in and care for you in a hospital bed, like a family member or whatever. That person has to help change your bandages, feed you (YOU have to get your own food!), and change your bedpan.
- in the case of this girl, Hannah's had to hire a nanny from her center to stay with the child, TWENTY FOUR HOURS/SEVEN DAYS PER WEEK! And this girl has been there over 45 days this time!
Just to give you an idea of what Hannah does for these kids.....
She's just an angel!!
I have to relate to you another very touching tale:
The room that this baby girl was in was a "head trauma" post-op room. There were about 8 beds in there. In those beds were people with various head/brain issues, with patients ranging from (I'd guess) mid-30s to the elderly. In addition, each patient had at least 2 family members sitting either WITH them in the bed, or beside them on chairs. They were firmly planted there, and looked to have been there for a great length of time, and looked like they were going to be there a long time more. They had their shoes off, reading books, napping, playing cards, knitting, and eating various foods. One of the foods (that I have noticed) that is what I call a "knitting food" is melon seeds. They are seeds that look a lot like big watermelon seeds (dark, round, and hard), but when you crack off the husk, there's an inner seed that looks a lot like a pumpkin or sunflower seed (and tastes very similar). I know that people often buy this not only as a food source, but to provide them a way to expend nervous energy, or pass the time. Also, you frequently see people with a small notch in their front upper tooth. This is caused by this habit of eating these hard seeds.
She's just an angel!!
I have to relate to you another very touching tale:
The room that this baby girl was in was a "head trauma" post-op room. There were about 8 beds in there. In those beds were people with various head/brain issues, with patients ranging from (I'd guess) mid-30s to the elderly. In addition, each patient had at least 2 family members sitting either WITH them in the bed, or beside them on chairs. They were firmly planted there, and looked to have been there for a great length of time, and looked like they were going to be there a long time more. They had their shoes off, reading books, napping, playing cards, knitting, and eating various foods. One of the foods (that I have noticed) that is what I call a "knitting food" is melon seeds. They are seeds that look a lot like big watermelon seeds (dark, round, and hard), but when you crack off the husk, there's an inner seed that looks a lot like a pumpkin or sunflower seed (and tastes very similar). I know that people often buy this not only as a food source, but to provide them a way to expend nervous energy, or pass the time. Also, you frequently see people with a small notch in their front upper tooth. This is caused by this habit of eating these hard seeds.
Anyway, there were a lot of those seeds being eaten in this room.
Everyone was of course fixated at the strange foreigner talking a strange language, and taking lots of photos of the baby girl in the corner.
As I sat and chatted with Hannah, and held the hand of the dutiful nanny that had sat by this baby girl's side for SO long, I gazed across the room. Normally, when my eyes met the family members, or the patients (that were awake/conscious), they turned away or looked down. Whether it was because of the shame of infirmity, or whether they were proud and didn't want me to pity them, I don't know. But even through whatever illnesses they or their loved ones were combating, they were all smiling when they looked at the only infant in the room, and the foreigner hovering over her. Although I can't say for sure if they understood why I was there, I'm sure they must have been thinking, "lucky baby".
However, one person in the whole room was different. In the corner of the room next to the window, there was patient on her back. At first it was difficult to tell if the person was a man or a woman, because the patient had no hair, and the head was covered in a white fishnet bonnet, which seemed standard for all patients in this room that had some sort of head operation. The patient was also covered up to the chest in a white light hospital blanket, which masked any types of body curves underneath.
But it was a woman. And although the Chinese age wonderfully (in my opinion), and it is difficult for me to tell age, it looked as if she was no older than 35.
It wasn't because of her rich, full, red lips. It wasn't because of her femininely applied makeup for her eyebrows, or her silky smooth skin over her high cheekbones.
It was her eyes.
Her brown almond shaped eyes dwarfed the rest of her face. They were intensely crystalline, and it seemed that light reflected off of them in such mirrorlike gloss, that there must have been some eerie mysticism held within them. Only a woman can have eyes like that.
Her face shone with a thin layer of perspiration, and her lips formed niether a smile, nor a frown, which meant to me that she must have been in true pain. She lay on her back, but her head was turned on its side, looking directly at me. When I scanned the room, her gaze was the only one that held mine. She remained focused on me intensely, as if she was burning a hole through me, peering into my very soul.
At first I thought she might be in a daze, or in a semi-conscious state, and not really "here". I relaxed my face and smiled as if to say "hello". To this, she only replied with a slow blink, and she cleared her throat in a very "conscious" way, and remained fixed on me with her stare.
After a while with the baby girl, I got up, and breached the "personal space" with the rest of those in the room. As if I was entering into a private home, I stepped beside each bed. With each final step towards the bed, the downward stares, pursed lips, and hands held in laps, turned into familiar smiles and open handshakes. Some of the patients were asleep, or worse, and their families were all too happy to merely shake my hand, if only to break the monotony of their vigils.
After a while with the baby girl, I got up, and breached the "personal space" with the rest of those in the room. As if I was entering into a private home, I stepped beside each bed. With each final step towards the bed, the downward stares, pursed lips, and hands held in laps, turned into familiar smiles and open handshakes. Some of the patients were asleep, or worse, and their families were all too happy to merely shake my hand, if only to break the monotony of their vigils.
But when I came to the woman's bed, I was greeted with niether a welcome or a repulsion. With a vulnerable ambivalence, the woman's eyes once again greeted me with a locked gaze, and her mother greeted me with a mournful smile, as she hovered closer to her daughter, stroking her covered arm.
I asked Hannah to ask the pair what the problem was. I realized that this was a very improper thing to ask of my friend Hannah, as this obviously was a personal matter, and it was none of our business. But I just had to know.
Hannah very somberly asked, clearly uncomfortable in doing so. She stood behind me as she did so. The mother spoke some words, and then spoke to the daughter. The daughter merely shook her head a little (in which direction, I couldn't tell), and grumbled in a low, and painful way. Hannah told me that the young lady had some sort of tumor in her head. Hannah said that the mother had asked the daughter to speak, but that she was not in a very good mood, and had a slight fever, and was in pain.
Everyone thought that the conversation would end there, but just then, the woman took her hand out of the blanket, and put it down in the open, close to her body. She again held my gaze.
In a moment of brazen boldness, surprising everyone, and sat down on her bed, and reached out and grabbed her hand.
She gripped my hand back.
Firmly.
Pools of water formed at the huge rims of her perfect oval eyes. She said nothing, her expression and gaze unchanging.
Her mother's lip started to tremble, as began to speak again to Hannah, for a great long time.
As she was speaking, the daughter coughed a little, and adjusted herself in her bed. The mother, still talking to Hannah, dipped a cloth in water, and dabbed it across her head. The daughter's eyes closed momentarily when her mother did this.
I thought she might want me to leave, and so I began to pull away. But as I did so, her eyes jerked open, and burned through my eyes, as she gripped my hand even harder, stiffening her grip.
She wanted me to stay.
And I stayed.
I put my other hand over her hand, so that I was holding all of her hand, in both of mine.
The mother was speaking loud enough for all to hear. The others were silent, but not overly somber. Everyone here had a story, and they most likely had heard hers a few times before, in the countless hours that these people had been here, beside their loved ones.
Hannah spoke:
"This woman here [indicating the shaven beauty looking at me] is her daughter. A long time ago, this woman and her husband were married, and they tried a long time to have children. But they couldn't conceive. Desperate, she tried various medical treatments. As it turned out, as a result of the treatment, she developed tumors. She's been in a number of different hospitals for treatment, including a hospital in Beijing. The mother says that she's getting better, slowly. Her husband is working because they have to pay for hospital bills. They have had to borrow money from all their relatives to help pay for the hospital bills".
My heart sank in my chest, and it felt difficult to breathe. I didn't know exactly what this woman was trying to tell me with her gaze, but I now know why she held fixed on me.
How long had she stared at the tiny baby, fighting for life on the other side of the room? What was she thinking, as she lay fighting for her own life, while looking at this child, fighting for hers. What did those bright crystalline ovals see, as the baby, in want and need of a mother, lay helpless in the corner?
Two women....Chinese.... Strong.... In Pain....Alone.....Fighting....Both in an agonizing struggle, and what they both wanted most in the whole wide world --- was staring them in the face.
I was overcome with humility and sadness. I felt so insignificant, so inconsequential. I was in the presence of Giants, of Heroes. I was witness to two people's Hell, and two people's Salvation.
I told Hannah to translate: "Please tell this woman that I am so very proud that this baby shares a room with such a brave and noble woman. This baby can see by her example, the true strength of a Chinese woman."
Hannah did this, and the woman gazed at the baby, and then back at me, and then finally, faintly, ever-so-slightly.... smiled.
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