On the last day at the hospital, an hour before I was to take my bus, a 40 year old patient came with open blisters on his torso. His lips, tongue, and other body parts were swollen as well. He had a rare, severe allergic reaction to penicillin known as Steven Johnson syndrome, where the epidermis seperates from the dermis It was painful to watch the man as we put a Foley in him; we put inserted the Foley without analgesia, so the patient was grabbing onto the sheets wailing in pain. . A complication is scar tissue formation in the eyes, leading to blindness. His eyes were closed and crusted over with antibiotic cream to hopefully save his eyes. I asked about the patient's background.
"He comes from a very poor family"
"What about his treatment, medications?"
"Fluids with electrolytes and antibiotics. But he has maybe 2 or 3 days worth. Not enough."
"Then what is going to happen to him?"
"I don't know. Just hope he recovers."
[In Ecuador the medical treatment at the public hospitals are free, but the family must purchase the medications. Medication is expensive, and in this case, was equivalent to 2 months income. So despite having free healthcare, poor families often cannot afford treatment at the hospital].
It made me sad to see the man blistered, swollen and in pain, all because he had a horrible reaction to the antibiotics the doctor prescribed, and to know he wasn't going to get the full treatment he needed. I imagined him going blind because he didn't have the $60 for medication. Before I said my last goodbye with hugs and "besitos" to the hospital staff, I gave the secretary money to pay for the patient's medications with hopes that they could save his eyes. I had faith he would make it.
That was a month ago. Then this week I received an email from the charge nurse.
"The man you helped passed away."
With a 95% survival rate, I thought he would surely make it.
"That is the nature of our profession," read the e-mail. Yes it is. It is still hard to accept though.