Paet's Guardian

Yesterday I heard the all-famous scream! You know, the one that cries “blood” and not just “Tehya’s bugging me!” Paet had fallen and bonked his head on the bed frame. There was blood … lots of blood. When the bleeding finally subsided and I was brave enough to remove the towel, I was shocked by the hole that I saw between my son’s eyes. I told Tehya not to look … Wouldn’t want three of us passed out … Poor Makenna wouldn’t know what to do! Chris was out in the jungle, flying interior, so I had to take Paet to the hospital, to which I had never been before (somehow “hospital” and “third world” are not words that go well together in my mind). I walked in and who was sitting there waiting for us, but a white doctor! (In our town I know of only 2 white men: my husband and another MAF pilot.) The white doctor smiled nearly the whole time that he cared for Paet and stitched him up. Almost a school-boyish goofy smile. He called Paet “little soldier” a couple of times and reassured us that Paet would be fine.

We’re home now and Paet is healing up fine, although he will have quite the scar on his brow. Funny thing is, the doctor who signed Paet’s prescription slip was a Dr. Daniel (an Indonesian), not the Dr. Jeremy that I saw on the name tag of the doctor who helped us. I dealt with an Indonesian doctor for the paperwork, but the actual stitching was done by the white doctor. While Dr. Daniel explained the medicines and such, Dr. Jeremy sat there with his goofy smile, reassuring us that all would be ok.

I won’t be surprised if on Wednesday, only Dr. Daniel is around …