Weak Heart

Today, I went to Miguel's again to work, and Ayo, Addie, and Theresa went along. The morning was great. Especially because I knew we were only going to have a half day--we had afternoon plans to go to the University of Central America to have a tour of the museum and learn about Oscar Romero and the UCA martyrs.

So today, before lunch, Miguel came and told me I had to go with him to go to an Alcaldia. I had no idea what that was and I didn't want to leave Ayo and Addie and Theresa alone. We argued for a while, but apparently it was okay, according to Miguel, so finally, I gave some instructions and left. When we got to the Alcaldia, we met a whole bunch of people who seemed to be so official or at least think of themselves at such. I was introduced with great flair, and then somebody noticed my marker-y, glue-y hands and decided that I needed hand sanitizer. A river of it. I tried to follow the conversations as best I could and what I understood was that there was a little boy with a heart problem and the doctor was supposed to go see him. And maybe the medic too. After a while, I gathered (I think) that the medic was me! I have no idea what the purpose of this lie was. At all. Anyway, we drove to the kid's house and ended up walking into the woods quite a way because most of the road was washed away from the last storm. We saw the kid and his mom pushing him in his wheelchair walking toward us on the road, and as they approached, it became apparent how awful his condition was. His lips and eyelids were blue, and his fingertips were swollen and tinged. His head and body were large, and his arms and legs pencil-thin.

They took us to his house where we talked with his mom and they asked me to read his medical records. I had no idea why. I still don't. I was THRILLED that I could understand all of it but HORRIFIED at what I was reading. The kid is seriously in bad shape. I signed a couple papers and it sounds like I may see him again next week. Maybe with a real doctor this time? And after looking up an Alcaldia in a dictionary, I know it is the place where a mayor works, or the mayor himself. I think the pompous guy I met at the door was the mayor! As confused as I was, I felt really privileged to have a glimpse into his life and to be able to read the struggles he's had over his nine years of life. I hope I see him again!