Thanks for visiting our blog! As you can see, it is named “Dar Apoyo, Give
Support,” so we come here asking for your help. As part of our program
here in Quito each student has worked on a community service project. Our
group (Emily T., Kesa, Karen, Tessa, Emily S.) has spent our afternoons
working at the Baca Ortiz Children's hospital with the patients with
leukemia. The hospital is the only public hospital dedicated to children
here, so patients come from all ends of the country seeking treatment.
Being a public hospital most of the families are very poor, but able to
receive most treatments free of charge. There are, however, costs
associated with the treatments. At times families struggle to pay for the
needles needed to give medication or for the medication itself. That is
where the Fundacion por Una Vida (Foundation for a life) comes in. The
foundation provides the families in the most dire of need with the support
needed to ensure their children are getting the care they need to beat
leukemia. The foundation also facilitates us to come and brighten the
kids' days with games, puzzles, drawing etc. We would love to give back to
the foundation and help future patients and families at the hospital, this
is where you come in. Your donations will support these families in some
of the toughest times and take a little stress off their backs so they can
focus their attention on the recovery of their children. We really
appreciate you taking the time to visit this site and supporting our work
in Ecuador. It has had its ups and downs with each of us taking something
different from the experience. We invite you to read some personal stories
from our time working with the children.
Un abrazo gigante de Ecuador,
Emily T., Tessa, Karen, Emily S., & Kesa
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Kesa's Story
Like most of the girls, I felt incredibly overwhelmed after our first visit to the hospital. I remember thinking that the job might be too much for me to handle. But then I remembered that difficult situations are simply disguised opportunities to learn and grow.
Within the first few visits I began to feel more and more comfortable in our wing of the hospital. We work in the oncology ward of the hospital where children come to stay for several weeks while the are receiving treatment for cancer. I no longer felt overwhelmed, simply anxious - anxious to help and inspired by the strength of the kids. I think the most difficult part about being in the hospital was not the kids, per se, but observing the exhaustion and worry on the faces of their parents. For weeks on end they hold vigil at the bedside of their sick child; not able to go to work; and getting deeper and deeper in debt – while watching their child endure painful treatments day in and day out. All in hopes that they might eventually see their child be able to live like a normal kid.
During my initial visits, there was one boy who stood out. His name was Oscar and he was eleven years old. The first time I met him he was recovering from a treatment they had administered moments before. I wanted to help because I had seen how painful the medicine can be, but I knew there was nothing I could really do but let him rest. The next day I came back and found they had moved him into a different room. There was no one else in the room but his mother, so I asked if he wanted to play a game and we ended up playing Battleship for the entire day. I couldn’t do much, but I went home that night knowing that I had helped make him happy for a short time. And, I had made a friend. For the next few weeks we enjoyed each others company and continued to play games together. Then one day he was simply gone. I was worried he had gotten worse – but the nurse assured me he had just gone home in between treatments. I was relieved and thought how wonderful it must be for him to be well enough to leave the hospital and go home to wrestle with his older brothers and sleep in his own bed. It also made me realize, that Oscar had given me much more than I gave to him. And even though I can’t do a lot to end the suffering, I can make these kids smile and help them to forget they are sick. Even if it’s just for a little while. And maybe that’s enough.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to Oscar and I probably will never know the rest of his story. I hope it ends the way I’d like to think it will. And now, at the end of each day, I am so grateful for the opportunity that Fundacion por Una Vida has given me to experience even a small piece of these kid’s lives – regardless of what the outcome may end up to be.
-Kesa Sovulewski
Within the first few visits I began to feel more and more comfortable in our wing of the hospital. We work in the oncology ward of the hospital where children come to stay for several weeks while the are receiving treatment for cancer. I no longer felt overwhelmed, simply anxious - anxious to help and inspired by the strength of the kids. I think the most difficult part about being in the hospital was not the kids, per se, but observing the exhaustion and worry on the faces of their parents. For weeks on end they hold vigil at the bedside of their sick child; not able to go to work; and getting deeper and deeper in debt – while watching their child endure painful treatments day in and day out. All in hopes that they might eventually see their child be able to live like a normal kid.
During my initial visits, there was one boy who stood out. His name was Oscar and he was eleven years old. The first time I met him he was recovering from a treatment they had administered moments before. I wanted to help because I had seen how painful the medicine can be, but I knew there was nothing I could really do but let him rest. The next day I came back and found they had moved him into a different room. There was no one else in the room but his mother, so I asked if he wanted to play a game and we ended up playing Battleship for the entire day. I couldn’t do much, but I went home that night knowing that I had helped make him happy for a short time. And, I had made a friend. For the next few weeks we enjoyed each others company and continued to play games together. Then one day he was simply gone. I was worried he had gotten worse – but the nurse assured me he had just gone home in between treatments. I was relieved and thought how wonderful it must be for him to be well enough to leave the hospital and go home to wrestle with his older brothers and sleep in his own bed. It also made me realize, that Oscar had given me much more than I gave to him. And even though I can’t do a lot to end the suffering, I can make these kids smile and help them to forget they are sick. Even if it’s just for a little while. And maybe that’s enough.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to Oscar and I probably will never know the rest of his story. I hope it ends the way I’d like to think it will. And now, at the end of each day, I am so grateful for the opportunity that Fundacion por Una Vida has given me to experience even a small piece of these kid’s lives – regardless of what the outcome may end up to be.
-Kesa Sovulewski
Emily T.'s Story
My first day at Baca Ortiz was something I will not soon forget: throngs of people sat listlessly in a dark waiting room as an unfamiliar smell permeated the air. Many parents with children bundled in their arms looked longingly at me as I wandered by. In that moment I realized that this hospital was unlike any I had ever been to. And I was in for far more than I expected.
After 5 flights of stairs I entered the hematology and oncology floor. It was bright as the sun shone onto the walls, illuminating colorful paintings of butterflies and flowers. The rooms were quiet with the flicker of cartoons and the beeps of monitors. The kids were of different ages, from all parts of Ecuador and at different stages of health. I saw the desperation and exhaust in the faces of the parents and knew I had to put my feelings of anxiety and sadness aside to be the much needed distraction for the patients. I sat down with Jenifer, an 11 yro girl from a province outside of Quito. Her hands were sore and bruised from many injections and couldn't grasp markers or put together a puzzle. We read a Barbie princess book that seemed to put her mind at ease and take her to another place. When I left I promised that the next time she would be coloring her own magical pictures. She did just that. Every week Jenifer's strength grew along with her smile. We made necklaces, clay figurines and one day she was even able to get out of her bed and walk to the toy closet with me. On one of my visits I saw her mother packing her belongings away into a suitcase and she gleefully told me, “we get to go home!” She hugged me and with a warm fuzzy hat on she happily walked to the elevator. I still see her occasionally, but it is only when I catch her coming or going to one of her bi-weekly treatments. Her resilience and attitude are an inspiration to me, but she is not the only one. All of the kids at Baca Ortiz have tremendous spirits to overcome leukemia. Their ability to smile in the face of something so scary reminds me to be grateful for what I have and never hesitate to smile myself.
-Emily Terrell
After 5 flights of stairs I entered the hematology and oncology floor. It was bright as the sun shone onto the walls, illuminating colorful paintings of butterflies and flowers. The rooms were quiet with the flicker of cartoons and the beeps of monitors. The kids were of different ages, from all parts of Ecuador and at different stages of health. I saw the desperation and exhaust in the faces of the parents and knew I had to put my feelings of anxiety and sadness aside to be the much needed distraction for the patients. I sat down with Jenifer, an 11 yro girl from a province outside of Quito. Her hands were sore and bruised from many injections and couldn't grasp markers or put together a puzzle. We read a Barbie princess book that seemed to put her mind at ease and take her to another place. When I left I promised that the next time she would be coloring her own magical pictures. She did just that. Every week Jenifer's strength grew along with her smile. We made necklaces, clay figurines and one day she was even able to get out of her bed and walk to the toy closet with me. On one of my visits I saw her mother packing her belongings away into a suitcase and she gleefully told me, “we get to go home!” She hugged me and with a warm fuzzy hat on she happily walked to the elevator. I still see her occasionally, but it is only when I catch her coming or going to one of her bi-weekly treatments. Her resilience and attitude are an inspiration to me, but she is not the only one. All of the kids at Baca Ortiz have tremendous spirits to overcome leukemia. Their ability to smile in the face of something so scary reminds me to be grateful for what I have and never hesitate to smile myself.
-Emily Terrell
Tessa's Story
The first few days a Baca Ortiz were a bit difficult for me, I would
walk awkwardly from room to room, arms laden with puzzles and crayons
only to find that many of the children only wanted to rest or watch
television. Those that did play with me did so silently, with few
smiles. I began to dread my afternoons in the hospital, I thought
that not only was I no help, but that I was a nuisance to everyone;
doctors, nurses, parents, and the kids themselves. It wasn’t until I
revisited a room where I had played with a boy the previous day that
my attitude completely changed. The moment I entered the little boy
sat straight up, waving enthusiastically at me with the biggest smile
on his face, and I knew then that what we do with the foundation
really does make a difference in these children’s lives, even if we
can’t see it at first.
But the Fundación doesn’t just provide emotional support for the kids
and their families; they’re there to help with the costs related to
treatment as well. Children especially have a good chance of
surviving leukemia, but only if they receive the necessary treatment.
By giving just a little you can help the kids get healthy while
keeping smiles on all their faces.
-Tessa Sifferman
walk awkwardly from room to room, arms laden with puzzles and crayons
only to find that many of the children only wanted to rest or watch
television. Those that did play with me did so silently, with few
smiles. I began to dread my afternoons in the hospital, I thought
that not only was I no help, but that I was a nuisance to everyone;
doctors, nurses, parents, and the kids themselves. It wasn’t until I
revisited a room where I had played with a boy the previous day that
my attitude completely changed. The moment I entered the little boy
sat straight up, waving enthusiastically at me with the biggest smile
on his face, and I knew then that what we do with the foundation
really does make a difference in these children’s lives, even if we
can’t see it at first.
But the Fundación doesn’t just provide emotional support for the kids
and their families; they’re there to help with the costs related to
treatment as well. Children especially have a good chance of
surviving leukemia, but only if they receive the necessary treatment.
By giving just a little you can help the kids get healthy while
keeping smiles on all their faces.
-Tessa Sifferman
Emily S.'s Story
On my third visit to Baca Ortiz, I was just getting the routine down. That
day, I entered one of the rooms with four children in it. One girl was
with her family, so I went straight to the other kids first. I set them
all up with puzzles and markers and paper, and sort of rotated between
each one for a while, talking to them, and playing and drawing with them.
A bit later, the one girl in the same room who had been with her family
when I got there was now alone. I went up to her, she smiled at me, and I
asked her if she wanted a puzzle, or some things to draw with, or
something else to do. She just looked at me, and then looked towards her
own arms, and said no, because she couldn’t lift up her arms. I
immediately felt embarrassed and bad for not noticing before, but both of
her forearms had IV’s in them, and she was trying to keep them still,
holding onto these little blocks that the nurse had given her. I sort of
panicked, and scrambled my words (at this point, my Spanish was still in
need of much improvement), but eventually managed to ask her if I could
just talk to her for a bit. I learned that her name is Rosie, and she is
ten years old, and that she was very excited because her cousin was going
to come visit her that afternoon. Before we knew it, a half an hour had
gone by, and her cousin, Berto arrived. I met him, and then let them be,
and went back to the other kids. A few weeks passed, and I hadn’t seen
Rosie. I only go two or maybe three days a week to the hospital, but I
usually see some of the same children when they come in for treatments and
tests. Then, one day, I was getting a puzzle for another boy out of the
cabinet that Fundacion Por Una Vida set up in the hospital, and I saw
Rosie in one of the other rooms. We were both happy to see each other, and
I went into her room to talk to her. Before I could ask her how she was
doing, she said that she was ready for that puzzle now, and laughed. Her
arms were free of IV’s, and she was sitting up in her bed, very pleased
with herself. She called to me as I was leaving the room to get it, and
said to make sure it wasn’t an easy baby puzzle, because she wanted a
challenge.
-Emily Schmierer
day, I entered one of the rooms with four children in it. One girl was
with her family, so I went straight to the other kids first. I set them
all up with puzzles and markers and paper, and sort of rotated between
each one for a while, talking to them, and playing and drawing with them.
A bit later, the one girl in the same room who had been with her family
when I got there was now alone. I went up to her, she smiled at me, and I
asked her if she wanted a puzzle, or some things to draw with, or
something else to do. She just looked at me, and then looked towards her
own arms, and said no, because she couldn’t lift up her arms. I
immediately felt embarrassed and bad for not noticing before, but both of
her forearms had IV’s in them, and she was trying to keep them still,
holding onto these little blocks that the nurse had given her. I sort of
panicked, and scrambled my words (at this point, my Spanish was still in
need of much improvement), but eventually managed to ask her if I could
just talk to her for a bit. I learned that her name is Rosie, and she is
ten years old, and that she was very excited because her cousin was going
to come visit her that afternoon. Before we knew it, a half an hour had
gone by, and her cousin, Berto arrived. I met him, and then let them be,
and went back to the other kids. A few weeks passed, and I hadn’t seen
Rosie. I only go two or maybe three days a week to the hospital, but I
usually see some of the same children when they come in for treatments and
tests. Then, one day, I was getting a puzzle for another boy out of the
cabinet that Fundacion Por Una Vida set up in the hospital, and I saw
Rosie in one of the other rooms. We were both happy to see each other, and
I went into her room to talk to her. Before I could ask her how she was
doing, she said that she was ready for that puzzle now, and laughed. Her
arms were free of IV’s, and she was sitting up in her bed, very pleased
with herself. She called to me as I was leaving the room to get it, and
said to make sure it wasn’t an easy baby puzzle, because she wanted a
challenge.
-Emily Schmierer
Karen's Story
Even though I’ve only been working at Baca Ortiz for a few short months, I
feel like the time I have put in there has really made a difference, not
only with the children, but in my own life. The thing that has made the
biggest impact on me is the strength of the children in this hospital.
Though they are infected with a life-threatening illness and having to
receive painful treatments, the children never fail to give you a warm,
appreciative smile when you walk in the room. It amazes me every day that
even though all of the children at Baca Ortiz are stuck in a terrible,
uncontrollable situation, they never seem to lose their sense of wonder or
imagination. The very first day I worked at Baca Ortiz I was coloring
with a little girl who had just undergone chemotherapy earlier that
morning and occasionally during our time together, she would have to put
her marker down and roll over to her side because you could tell she was
in immense pain. I felt sympathetic for her and completely helpless to do
anything for her pain, but after a minute of suffering, she would turn
back around and softly whisper “ok, I’m ready to color again”.
I think it’s these qualities in children; strength, endurance, and
serenity, that make what La Fundacion Por Una Vida such an important
program. Without their financial assistance, some of these amazing
children wouldn’t be able to afford the medical attention they need to
share everything they have to give, with the rest of the world.
-Karen
feel like the time I have put in there has really made a difference, not
only with the children, but in my own life. The thing that has made the
biggest impact on me is the strength of the children in this hospital.
Though they are infected with a life-threatening illness and having to
receive painful treatments, the children never fail to give you a warm,
appreciative smile when you walk in the room. It amazes me every day that
even though all of the children at Baca Ortiz are stuck in a terrible,
uncontrollable situation, they never seem to lose their sense of wonder or
imagination. The very first day I worked at Baca Ortiz I was coloring
with a little girl who had just undergone chemotherapy earlier that
morning and occasionally during our time together, she would have to put
her marker down and roll over to her side because you could tell she was
in immense pain. I felt sympathetic for her and completely helpless to do
anything for her pain, but after a minute of suffering, she would turn
back around and softly whisper “ok, I’m ready to color again”.
I think it’s these qualities in children; strength, endurance, and
serenity, that make what La Fundacion Por Una Vida such an important
program. Without their financial assistance, some of these amazing
children wouldn’t be able to afford the medical attention they need to
share everything they have to give, with the rest of the world.
-Karen
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