My First Patient
My first ever patient was a yellow fluffy duck. By writing down my patient’s symptoms on a white sketch pad scribbled in pen, giving him vaccines in the neck, and giving him a big sickness-curing hug, I believed I could cure this duck of its sickness. Although this method of care seems pretty flawed, my two-year-old self knew this stuffed animal’s life was saved. I have always enjoyed giving people and things the care they need. I would play the board game Operation, delicately taking out the pieces from the patient’s chest without making the board buzz. My eyes would be glued to movies like Gifted Hands, a story of an African American man who overcomes his struggles to become a neurosurgeon. What seemed to be a weird fixation would later on become the biggest part of me that I could never give up. “Dr. Winfield, could you give me a check-up?” or “Dr. Winfield, could you use your help?” were what my parents would always say, especially my mom, and I would just simply go along. I had nothing else in my mind, but I also didn’t have the rigorous work of becoming a doctor in mind either. The idea of being one just sounded right, and playing dress-up with a doctor’s toy kit had me convinced. However, I never considered the emotional stress that could come with the job, like having to give heartbreaking news to a family member or making life-changing decisions for a person’s life.
Time passes, and my childhood starts saying its final goodbyes; older loved ones live their final moments, the childhood bird gives out its last chirp, and the yellow fluffy duck is in critical condition. My life had reached that point, and I had started receiving that heartbreaking news of losing another loved one from doctors more throughout the years. A silly forgotten childhood dream now slowly makes it to the back of my mind as reality floods my head instead, and big changes start to ensue. I had no control and no answers. I couldn’t give relatives that big healing sickness-cure hug or write down their symptoms to figure out what took them away. Once I finally thought all this breaking news had stopped, I’m faced with it once again, except it wasn’t a grandparent but my own mother. My mother now had to face the life-changing decision of taking out her uterus, and fifteen-year-old me on her summer break was now left with a huge hurl of thoughts and all the situations that could take place. I’m being sat down once again, and I’m told what’s going to happen and what could happen, but no matter what , everything is going to be okay. Fortunately, I woke up the next morning with a call that my mother had come out of surgery and was on her way home. Relieved, I rushed down to go and help my father carry my mom into the house. They slowly waddle into the garage, taking tiny steps into the house. I greet my mom, sluggish and weak in her movement. My mom pauses her steps and hurls on the garage floor from the pain.
I rush to my mother and grab her other arm, leading her into the house and up the stairs to her room. We lay her down and get her situated in the bed. My mom pulls me to her side, “Mami, I’m going to need your help with getting up and moving, and I need someone to administer these shots every day. I will teach you how, and it will be like I’m your patient.” I was hesitant, but my mother needed my help, and I knew I could not rest until she got the care she needed. What was once a summer break from school now became weeks of being my mom’s health care provider. I started to administer shots to my mom, which compared to my fluffy yellow duck felt much more nerve-wracking. However, the days went by, and my confidence got stronger and stronger, and that crazy childhood dream started rolling back, and a feeling I hadn’t felt in so long came rushing in. My spark had come back.
After experiencing this wild journey with my mother and as she slowly came back to health, it brought me hope. It gave me hope after years of what only seemed to be a decline, and a future in an old dream that used to be hard to picture. Although I may not be able to give life-saving care to every patient, through dedication and care, there is always the possibility in growth and recovery.
