Thank you, by Graham

Our youngest volunteer, age: 8

A Drop In The Bucket, by Dr. Dean Anselmo

This is my first mission with MKI and my 3rd pediatric surgery mission. I must say that I have been blown away by what we have been able to accomplish in such a short period of time. We evaluated 80 patients on Tuesday and performed 29 surgeries in 3 days. This is a month's worth of work for many surgeons that we were able to successfully complete in less than a week. This would not have been possible without the tireless and passionate dedication of the ENTIRE team of people who put this together. Although I was the surgeon performing these operations, the lion's share of the credit should go to the unsung heroes who work diligently in the background to make this all happen.

The experience has been a whirlwind of exhaustive activity between seeing scores of children in clinic and performing between 8-11 surgeries each day with very short breaks. At the end of each day, in the midst of mental and physical depletion, I left the Moore Pediatric Surgery Center with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and personal reward.

I absolutely love being a surgeon and working in an operating room. I enjoy the technical aspects of operating and performing the manual tasks of making an incision, meticulously dissecting anatomical structures, repairing pathology, suturing and tying knots and closing an incision at the end of a successful operation. However, sometimes it can be easy to forget the relevance of the work you do when you are in the middle of it. I was reminded of that impact when I went to talk to the mother of a child born with imperforate anus after we successfully finished a posterior sagittal anorectoplasty. I told her that the operation went very well without any complications and I was very pleased with the outcome. In my mind, I was thinking about the technical success of repairing pathology of the congenital defect in her son and I expected her to be pleased as well… She looked at me and began to cry. She told me that she never thought that this day would come. She never thought it would be possible that someone would be able to fix her baby and give him a chance at a normal life and she thanked me profusely. It completely caught me off guard and I began to cry as well. It was that moment that made me truly appreciate the importance the work that we do in pediatric surgery missions: to make a difference in children's lives that would otherwise not be possible. When compared to all the children in the world who need help, at times it seems like these missions are just a small drop in the bucket. But to these individual children and their families, it's a massive drop in a little bucket.

Dean M. Anselmo, MD, FAAP
Pediatric Surgery, Children’s Hospital Los Angeles 

The Butterfly Effect, Eloise Parker

Mending Kids truly has had a butterfly effect. I don't think that Mending Kids, the doctors, or the volunteers realize the impact they're not only making on the families we directly help but on the whole world. When you give love, love will be returned and you can see this clearly on these missions. I believe the Mending Kids logo is a perfect representation of the organization and the effect they have. You never know how much a little gesture can change everything, including yourself. Yesterday, I had a conversation with Erick's dad while Erick was waiting to go into surgery. Once we started talking, he told me about his 4 boys and that he used to live in New York in order to send money to Guatemala and support his family. Three weeks ago his wife passed away, forcing him to move back and lose his job and his family's income. He told me that he was struggling and looking for a sign that it was going to be okay and Mending Kids was that sign. Hearing this changed something inside me, igniting a spark to keep on helping people and continue the butterfly effect.

Eloise Parker
MKI volunteer

Capture This, by Yasmine Diba

I arrived here at 7 in the morning on my 17th birthday. I had never looked at photos of the city so I didn't know what I was going to see. On the way to the hotel I sat by the window of the van and looked out the window. I was shocked by what I was seeing. I don't know what I had imagined exactly, but this was different than anything I might have expected. One of the things that shocked me the most was the way people were driving. It is absolutely insane. Unfortunately, I had left my camera at home, courtesy of my mom, who I was now ready to strangle.

On the way from the hotel to the hospital staring out the window again, I couldn't help thinking about how mad I was that I didn't have my film camera. The most diversely and beautifully colored walls and interesting people were passing by that I was never going to be able to capture through the lenz of my camera. After the visit and tour of the hospital, we went to visit zone 25; a very poor neighborhood in the outskirts of Guatemala City. It was downright the most shocking thing that I have ever seen. It was so incredible to see mothers and children live this way and, once again, I couldn't capture these moments the way I wished I could. 

On day 2 we got to meet all the kids who were at the hospital to be evaluated. Again, I was so sad I didn't have my camera and that we couldn't find one. Finally, Isabelle Fox gave me a piece of advice that stuck with me. She said that with the camera around my neck I wasn't gonna be able to get the full experience and that through giving my full attention to the kids I was gonna have more beautiful memories and pictures than I could have ever had with a camera. And she was completely right. I have had the most amazing and beautiful connections and moments with so many kids and, in some ways, I'm happy my film camera didn't make the trip with me to Guatemala.

Yasmine

MKI volunteer

Long Lasting Hug, by Dr. Brian S. Kim

Greetings from Guatemala City!
After a busy day in preop clinic yesterday, and an equally busy day in the OR today, I wanted to offer a few thoughts regarding my first medical mission ever. I can wax philosophical about my experience so far, but as someone who has traveled extensively in the past for pleasure and a good time, I would rather focus on one particular patient I had, and leave it up to you all to extrapolate my personal experience to the greater whole.
Her name is Dina, and she's 8 years old. I preop'ed her in clinic yesterday, and we operated on her today. We saw dozens in our clinic, and they all came in wearing their best Sunday clothes, despite the fact that these are people who literally have volcanic dirt and ash flooring in their "homes." Dina was no exception. On both days, when she came in with her mother to see us, she had on a pretty dress, and the biggest and widest grin on her face. It was the grin of a child who was truly happy to see me. It was the same grin that breaks out on the faces of my own three children whenever I come home from work. After my interview and exam, she voluntarily walked up to me and gave me the biggest and longest full body hug any child, besides my children, ever gave me. In fact, I thought she just wanted to go to sleep on my shoulder. Then of course, this afternoon, when the team walked into the surgery waiting room, filled with apprehensive looks from parents, and fearful glances from their children, Dina beamed once again, and once again, gave me the biggest hug ever. For a jaded person like myself, it was an instant heart melter. I came on this trip to experience a medical mission, mainly as way to break the mundane daily grind of everday life. But I will come away from this place with a different set of priorities. I hope it lasts. And I wish all the best life has to offer to this little angel. 

--
Brian S. Kim, M.D.
California Anesthesia Associates, Inc.

Same Ol, Same Ol : ) by Diana Laraway

This is my fourth mission with MKI and while the location, patients, and types of surgery change, many things remain the same.  Like previous missions, I find myself surrounded by compassionate individuals of all ages and from all walks of life, who are passionate about caring for and improving the lives of children.  Each mission we are short on technology, but rich in teamwork and flexibility.

No matter what country we are in, we meet families who have very little by American standards and face tremendous hardships everyday, but always greet us with warm smiles and thank-yous.  Similar to China and Ecuador, the children are beautiful and brave beyond belief.  As with previous missions, I am so grateful to the parents of our patients who entrust us with their most valuable possession, and to MKI for the life-changing work they do and for giving me this amazing opportunity.


Diana Laraway, PACU Nurse
MKI Mission Volunteer

Prized Possession, by Isabelle Fox

Guatemala City is divided into 25 zones. We know that Zone 10, where we are staying is one of the best and that Zone 1, where the Moore Pediatric Surgical Center is located, is the worst. After landing on fumes of sleep yesterday, we stumbled into then hotel, dropped our personal belongings off, and quickly reconvened in the lobby to caravan over to the MPSC where the new surgical team, led by Dr. Dean Anselmo of Children's Hospital Los Angeles and the rest of the medical staff and volunteers were given a tour and talk on protocol.

When you are expected to screen 130 patients to select as many as 30 for surgeries, you wouldn't really expect to have too much time for tourism - but to our surprise, our hosts from The Shalom Foundation (who work in conjunction with the MPSC) had a little visit planned for us by way of a drive to Zone 25 so that our team could get a visual and appreciation on where and how some of their young surgery candidates live.

Las Conchas is a new suburb of GC that has its origins as a shanty town of corroded sheets of corrugated metal, reclaimed packing palettes and blue plastic tarps, pieced and strung together to afford protection from the beating sun and cover from the rain when it pours. As Betty Davis would say, "This place is a dump!" But for the hundreds of residents that claim this ground, living on the very outskirts of this Central American metropolis, this is their last stand for a hope to live a civilized life. As our Mending Kids Team walked around and took in this quiet little slice of abject poverty, it became evident that many who live here have been forgotten or abandoned by the system.

We stopped in and visited a single mother of four who was thrilled to have a new concrete floor under her blue tarp. She also boasted a water cooler with a filtration system and she was so proud to invite us into her home. It was amazing and humbling to appreciate this woman's grace and strength and resilience but mostly, her joy. Did she have very little? Unquestionably. Would I wish her  lifestyle on anyone? Never. But entering her home and world of such few material possessions, where she had to go down the street to ask for water, and who knows where, to relieve herself. I realized that what may be her most closely guarded and cherished possession was her health.

And in reality, that may be the one thing that we all have in common. No matter where we come from or what socio-economic pie chart we fit into. Who does not cherish that?

Health trumps everything.

Isabelle
MKI Surgical Mission Media Consultant