One Orange A Week

Last night I had the opportunity to work with a surgeon who was once a refugee.

When I started medical school, he was still in a refugee camp in Hong Kong. This surgeon is Vietnamese.

He stayed in this camp for four years.

There was no work expected of the refugees. Food was given, and although it was good, there was no variety to the food so it proved tiresome.

They were given no fruits--no apples, no oranges--with the meals with the exception of one orange every week. This is too prevent scurvy, a disease of the connective tissue due to lack of vitamin C.

At Christmas they were given the packages from all the charities, and also once in a while the charities would come with the old shoes and 'gently used' clothing to help meet their needs.

The boat ride took twenty three days to cross over to the states. Twenty three days on the open water of the Pacific with no restroom on board the boat. It was at most, ten feet long.

Well how do you pee? How do you poop? I'm a doctor, and a MOM! I want to know.

He said, 'you are so low to the water, you could touch it. You just hang your bottom over the edge and let it go in--pee or poop.'

I wish I'd had the presence of mind to ask about the toilet paper? Or for that matter, the food and water that was available to them on board ship.

Instead, I blurted out, 'so you were like the Life Of Pi! Without the Tiger?'

He said yes, exactly, it was that kind of boat. He was a boat person.

Well what about school? Did they have school for you those four years in the camp?

Sadly, the answer was no.  He added, on second thought, 'There were teachers in the camps. We got together, and made our own school. THAT is how I learned.'


Last night, in the middle of the prep for the second appendectomy, he was my teacher.

He asked about my son. He has two kids, four and two.

I shared, 'I haven't seen him in four days. It was his father's weekend.* He came to a sitter's home. I have to work tomorrow. I would sleep here after this case, but I really want to see him. I will make his breakfast and lunch, bring clean clothes, and take him to school. It is important to me that I see him. So I will drive home in the hopes that I won't be called back in, and be able to pick him up and take him to school. Seeing him for those ten minutes is worth the long drive and inconvenience for me.'

He shook his head from side to side, looked at the ground, and said, 'Now that's rough!'

He paused and said, 'I take my children to school...every day. With my schedule, I have a break, in the morning, so I take them...'

I shared, 'I think you're lucky that you get to see your kids every day. Enjoy it. I am going to have to slow down at some point. He is going to need me, and I want to be there for  him.'

He looked me in the eye. As one sole supporter of the family, to another, he understood the delicate balance I was trying to keep in my home; I am willing to risk financial security, to be there for my child, when push comes to shove.

There was a drunk on the road home last night. Almost side swiped me. They were swerving back and forth across the lane. It came from my blind spot. I never would have known what hit me, they were going so fast. Just popped up beside me between my looks in the mirror...

Angels were watching me last night.

Thank you for helping me make it home so I can see today.

Truth is stranger than fiction.
And not all prisons have bars.
Not all refugee camps have fences.

The time has come for humanity to be set free.




Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,

Reiki Doc

* part of the custody arrangement is the father denies me all phone contact on overnight he spends with our boy. The child used to ask to speak to me, and the father would stall, and distract him. Our son is terrified to bring a cell phone because of the repercussions from his father. So we have no contact until we are in person again, or at a home of a friend, like last night.

Times Of Change--Remembering Vietnamese Boat People

Everywhere I have worked as a physician, I have had the honor of taking care of the local Vietnamese population. I also have enjoyed working with Vietnamese physicians and surgeons. We have become friends. And in a way, I have become 'Vietnamese on the inside.'

One of our GI nurses is in her late fifties, and is Vietnamese. After the case today, and in the recovery room, when the patient was all 'tucked in', I wished her 'Happy New Year'.

Even more, I came up to her, right in front of her, put my hands in the prayer position and said, 'I wish you a wonderful year filled with much love, joy, and happiness!' And gave her a hug.

She almost cried.

The supervisor nurse in the room, who is Latina, also followed my example, and wished her many good things.

Here is our Vietnamese nurse's story:

The wishing of blessings upon the elders on New Year is very Vietnamese. The extended family sits in chairs in a row. The oldest brother is the important one in their culture, and represents the parents if they are not able to be present.  She sat with her brother and sister and their spouses, and everyone had their present, their gift...

Her brother is the one who started all of the action for their leaving Vietnam at the time of the war.

Her family--her husband and small children--had no money. She didn't pay even 'one dime' to come to the states. Her brother and her mother made it possible for everyone to come.

Vietnam is an ocean country. Here are fishermen.

Here are the fishermen's wives waiting for the men to return from the sea.

Here is a market that is completely afloat, entirely on boats.

So the idea of paying a captain to take them in a boat across the Pacific Ocean to escape the war made a lot of sense to the people. However, it was very expensive. Many gave their entire life savings to buy a ticket to be on the boat.

Now we begin the story of the nurse and her daughter, who was eleven months old at the time. The food and water ran out. And so did her breast milk. She was unable to nurse the child. 

By planning ahead, she had brought concentrated milk to mix for the child. But there being no clean water available, she had mixed it with the river water, and the child developed diarrhea. She was very sick and the baby almost died. Her mother was 'only half there' as she remembers, for she was sick too.

Their small boat was captured by a Thai pirate vessel.

The pirates took the sick daughter. They went to another ship, near, but not touching, and tossed her overboard to the other boat!

If the throw had been wrong, the child would have fallen into the ocean and perished.

Somehow, despite the language barrier, the pirates knew that there was medicine and people to care for the child on the other boat they had captured and thrown the child to.

They treated the girl.

And in two days, they brought the boats together and threw her back to her mother's waiting arms.

'You see, in the ocean, there are waves,' the nurse explained, 'and if the boats get too close and the wave comes, both boats crash into each other and both are lost and sink.'

That is why the child had to be thrown to the other boat. And even doing so the pirates had taken great risk to themselves and everyone aboard both vessels.

'You know, even though they were Pirates, they were not all bad. They saved my daughter's life.'

Here is the story of the eleven-month old daughter, after she grew up, here in the states:

In childbirth, she could not push the child. The pregnant mother-to-be had congenital dysplasia of the hip. She could not open properly for the child to come out.

She needed to have emergency cesarean section.

Back in Vietnam, the nurse, who is the mother of the new mom, had given birth to her children at home because she did not have money.

If a complication like this had happened to her daughter back in Vietnam, where she would have given birth like her mother, she would have died. She and the baby would have died, together in childbirth.

So, again, with a shaky voice and tears in her eyes, the nurse said, 'without our blessing to be here, I would not have my daughter or my grandson today.'

So next time you see a little mom and pop store or restaurant in the Little Saigon neighborhood near you (this gentleman is from Washington, D.C.), if it's not too busy, ask them their story.

I guarantee it will inspire you.



Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,

Reiki Doc