Sunday, 2 July 2017

Its just God's miracle, we are just medium...

         Hello friends.Me Dr.Suhas and my wife Dr. Prerna are specialist by degree but generalist by choice.We both have humble rural background and upbringing.Hence after our post graduation we moved to rural set up for practice as we believe we have many dues towards society and community who helped us to be a good doctor.
        In rural peripheral setup you have a new day new challenge.There are many stories till now in one year. 
But the most interesting one is the 28 year female diagnosed with unexplained infertility for 8 long years. She was investigated & treated at several Super speciality setups at Mumbai, Pune, Nasik, Malegaon, Aurangabad. 

     She even underwent multiple times for diagnostic laparoscopy, hysteroscopy, IUI, IVF & her male partner was also treated for low sperm count in last 8 years but failed every time. Spent lacs of rupees for treatment but every time result was unsuccessful. Husband being rickshaw driver, due to mental frustration gave up hope on for not being able to  become a father. 

               Interesting fact is that the couple was none other than our hospital staff worker's son & daughter in law. 
After we started practice in rural setup, the staff told the story about her son & daughter in law. The couple meanwhile consulted us. Selective investigations were done as all the previous investigations were normal. We studied the case very thoroughly and with help of expert opinion of Dr. Prerna the patient conceived within a month. Her UPT came positive for the first time. 

           The happiness which we saw on her face was priceless. After proper care of thorough 9 months pregnancy she delivered a male child on 23/4/17. Staff worker's son literally cried with happiness. He told us that we are everything for him. And we told him its just God's miracle, we are just medium...

Dr. is Dr.Suhas Pawar is (MS Gen.Surgeon) and his wife Dr.Prerna Pawar MBBS,DGO.They run a rural hospital named Saibaba Hospital, Satana,Nashik. Both belogs to humble rural background and are passionate to provide all super speciality services to rural people in there own community.This shall reduce there trouble to cope up with city urban life.

Sunday, 21 May 2017

The police protection

Dr. Etonu Joseph 

It was a usual afternoon at Kapelebyong Health center 4,in Uganda, like everyday during my work I see all patients with different conditions.Some of them are brought by a policeman and this would be because of assault or even rape sometimes.But this day had i saw a police officer,a gentleman well built and strong sitting in the waiting area waiting to see me. As usual because I knew he had other day duties. I allowed him into my doctor's room. I expected him to be accompanying the usual cases of rape or violence but was I wrong.

Entering the room he closes the door behind him and he sat down. So i asked him "What can I do for you?" He replied it is I who needs help, "yesterday night I was attacked by my wife and she was bitting me with her teeth" He showed me all the bite marks on the hands and the back. I felt for him because 1st of all he is a Man! And also a police man. And being in the village many men usually beat their wives and sometimes they injure them so badly. But it was very humbling to notice this policeman keeping himself calm. And he did not beat his wife(Being physically strong He didnot even fight back). I advised him to get help for his wife because he was not safe living with her.

But it got me suprised that if a policeman can seek for help on the abusive nature of his wife.Then that means he loves her and it could also mean that he respects the rule of law.But it also got me thinking as we call police for help, who helps the police when they are in trouble..?


I am Dr. Etonu Joseph, Junior medical doctor from Uganda 29 years of age, I've been practicing for 2 years in a rural area in Uganda in a county called Kapelebyong county. I Started my work when I was 26 years old in the facility. Iam the only doctor there covering the health of 89,000 people. Being a very rural area very few doctors attempted to work there but so far i am the one who has lasted the longest in the facility..The people I serve are the humble indigenous rural people of Karamoja and also Kapelebyong county..I graduated in 2012 at the University of St. Petersburg Pavlov,the Russian Federation. But i started working in this rural area in late 2014. I ride a motorcycle to work because the roads are soo bad in the rains that sometimes it rains on me!  BUT I LOVE MY WORK and I have learnt a lot from the people I serve. 

Sunday, 14 May 2017


Caruaru - Mayara Floss @ruralices

Mayara Floss

I need to call Emergency.
There is an emergency in the rural unit.
"But doctor, there's no phone."

Caruaru 02/17

Mayara Floss 
Undergraduate student of medicine at Federal University of Rio Grande (FURG) - Brazil. She Co-creator of project 'Health Education League'.  She is the creator of the Rural Family Medicine Café to provide a forum to discuss Rural Health – a forum for students, young doctors and experienced professors and GPs from all world. She is the student representative of the WONCA Working Party on Rural Practice. She also co-created with Pratyush Kumar the project 'Rural Health Success Stories' and writes a weekly blog of Popular Education, Arts and Health - the Ferry Street of 10.

Sunday, 26 February 2017



        I got trained in the old school of thought as far as patient care is considered. There were several dos and don’ts that were dinned into our heads. Some of these were don’t prescribe an expensive drug when an alternative cheaper one is available. The other is don’t investigate unless absolutely necessary. Always listen to the patient then proceed to examine and always try and come to a clinical conclusion. If you have to confirm do the minimum lab and other tests. When you are in doubt get another opinion.

       These principles have stood me and my patients in good stead over the years and saved us lots of headache and money. But occasionally it has backfired to give an example or two.

         I am against routine annual medical examinations and investigations to all and sundry and with valid reasons.I consider these a waste of money. But when there is a definite indication to screen a high risk patient I do order the required tests.


        In this case the a young man’s company does many tests as a part of the employee benefit and an electrocardiogram is one of them. He knows that I am against routine screening for heart disease in low risk groups and the youngster was one such.He reluctantly came and apologetically asked me to have a look at the reports.The company and done many tests which included an ECG.

          The ECG was abnormal. Though the rhythm was alight the rate was very high. Even if one gives margin to the fear of doctors and machines many have with the resulting increase in the heart rate, this kind of increase was a cause for concern.The report just said sinus tachycardia and the physician who signed it had not bothered to see the patient. There was also a marginal increase in the levels of thyroid hormone.On talking to him I realised he had lost weight, had been having some diarrhoea and when I examined him he had a heart rate of 130 beats per minute. A repeat test for thyroid function revealed he had increased activity of thyroid gland and this was duly treated.

      Had he not done the annual tests would he have come to see me? Probably not immediately but would have because he was concerned with his loss of weight. He would have come much later when treating him may have become tougher than it did.

        Another patient this time a friend of mine, who by nature a thrifty sort of a fellow [there is a very thin line between thrifty and miser].He tries his best avoid consulting me [read paying me]. He also treats himself with some success. He had symptoms of hyper acidity a year ago and as his usual antacid failed to help he sought my attention and I advised him to take a course of different class of anti acid drugs and get back after six weeks. He got better and did not get back to see me. When I met with him on the golf course he said he was well but once in a way he has to take the medicine. This worried me as at his age one should not have recurring symptoms like this. As the golf course is not the ideal place for a professional consultation, I asked him to see me in my chambers. This he did when his wife came to see me, he sort of hitched a ride.

             I found he has been taking the medication prescribed and managing.Though there was nothing much detected on physical examination I told him to get an endoscopy done to have look at what his stomach looks like [this meant going to the hospital and getting a flexible tube thrust down the throat right up to the stomach, a not very pleasant procedure but was needed]. He said alright and went away. He did not go to the hospital. He came three months later with worsening of symptoms. I had no doubt about the diagnosis. He had cancer of the stomach and further tests including the endoscopy showed the cancer had spread all over. He does soon after.

         Looking back I feel guilty for not having insisted that he get the tests done.I could have told his wife and she would certainly have succeeded in getting the tests done.Would he have survived had the tests been done six months earlier? Yes he would have.

          There is a saying that you can take the horse to the water but you cannot make it drink it. Sometimes it is difficult to force the issue. But difficult or not I should have done it and he would have probably few more years of life. Now I am carrying this burden and it will be with me and his face will keep coming to haunt me, may be, till I die.

         Another patient and another time. This person was a medical shopper. He saw many doctors and I was one of them. He had painful sensations on the skin of his thighs extending down to the calves. Only sensory involvement of pain sensation carrying nerve fibers may be due to many causes and cancer is one of them. He was a smoker and on testing he was found to be a diabetic. I was happy because diabetic neuropathy is very common and good control of diabetes will help. He was told the diagnosis. He appeared happy that a cause was found and went with the diet sheet and prescription. For three months I did not see him. When he did come he had with him records of three other doctors, one of them a homeopath. His diabetes was under control but his neuropathy [pain] had worsened. A neurologist who had seen him had done a scan of his spine and brain with no abnormality. Now he also had weakness and loss of weight which was attributed to diabetes. What is this patient’s illness?

      I expressed my worry about cancer to the patient and told him to get a PET scan [an expensive test but will reveal cancer activity] of his whole body. After much deliberation and visit to another doctor [fortunately he too advised the same] this test was done. A tumor was found in the patient’s intestine [ceacum]!

     Though nearly six months had elapsed from the onset of pain in region far removed from the place where the cancer was, it was found to be operable. The patient lived few more years but died due to recurrence.

       Here again if we had forced him to do this test and the diagnosis had been done early, may be, he would have lived his normal span of life. All of us [many doctors whom he went to] thought that diabetes is the cause when all the time it was cancer. This episode too has remained in my memory but does not haunt me as the other one does.

       Despite this experience I stick to the principle of investigating only when necessary. But as you can guess, I have started forcing and even threatening them with dire consequences if they don’t follow my advice. Once bitten twice shy that is what I have become.

        Medicine is in many ways, a cruel profession. You may be right 99 times out of 100 but you remember the 100th because willy nilly you were responsible. And to the patient who suffered it is 100 percent.

Dr. B.C. Rao is  73 year old family doctor with varied interests.He is still in active practice though only for limited hours now.He actively guide young aspirants of family practice.

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Diabetic Mitra Insulin Bank - Making Insulin Therapy Patient friendly

Dear friends today I am introducing one of my initiative Diabetic Mitra Insulin Bank to you. It a self funded initiative by my clinic to make life of diabetic patients easy & healthy- treating them well in time, early identification of complications & prevention.

During journey of this project I realise many of my patients were afraid of using insulin as therapy option. Reasons were fear of insulin injection, dependency on same, long duration of therapy, cost & availability of easy devices like insulin pen. Keeping these difficulties in mind we thought of starting a bank where patient will get everything that requires for insulin therapy conventional and modern. This bank give patients option of pre deposit money and book requirement in advance or buy later the requisite things as per need. This move helps patients in crisis time, lack of salary, draught or flood situations. We kept this channel because when patient runs out of money he /she avoids taking proper medication and later land up in severe complications. We hope this can reduce damage to some extent.

This initiative is running on a very positive note and Mr .Manjunath is our strong support like reserve bank. Till date we have 20 plus members utilising our services. Under this initiative we also pay lot of attention to insulin therapy administration counselling. During consultation we spent lot of time with patients, try to reduce as much possible fear about therapy, teach them appropriate way of administration with finger rule.*We also encourage them for self insulin administration. With help of finger rule insulin going intramuscular chances reduces and it becomes almost pain free.

In future we are hopeful for starting patient support fund which will help needy type 1 DM, old age and poor patients who are on insulin therapy but cannot afford to get it due to financial or family problems. We also hope our work will reach to maximum population and we will succeed in spreading message Lets Live Healthy with Diabetes.

 *3 finger, 4 finger, 5 finger rule

While taking insulin over arm patient should keep 3 fingers over biceps and triceps, then remaining area is ideal for insulin administration. They can take it laterally when arm is put in supine position .This helped us to overcome the misconception of injection site-“for any injection is deltoid”. Over abdomen, we asked patient to leave 4 finger area from umbilicus. This leads to sparing of rectus sheath and facilitate administration of insulin more subcutaneously. So here patient can rotate sites easily. Over thigh we used 5 finger rule so patient spared quadriceps and hamstrings. Patient can take insulin over tenser fascia lata or adductor compartment. But here chances of absorption via intramuscular route are higher. Hence it’s not an ideal site.

Dr Smruti Mandar Haval  (Dr. Smruti Subhash Nikumbh);  M.B.B.S.D.N.B. (Family Med),M.N.A.M.S.,P.G.D. Diabetology  & Geriatric Med; Certified International Diabetic Educator by Project Hope & International Diabetes Federation (IDF) USA; Consulting Physician in Family medicine, Diabetology, Preventive Cardiology, Thyroid disorders  & Geriatric Medicine; C.E.O. Sukarmayogi Publishers, Sankeshwar Dist: Belgaum, Karnataka; Assistant Professor, Department Family Medicine, USM-KLE IMP,Belgaum


Area of practice: Sankeshwar, Dist – Belgaum,Karnataka. Epidemiology of your area in brief: It’s an semi rural area covering more than 50 km radius including many villages. Its USP is it’s an border area connecting borders of Maharashtra and Karnataka which makes it an multiethnic area. Common chronic health diseases are diabetes, hypertension, asthma, hypothyroidism etc.

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Grief and resilience on a remote Pacific Island

Dr Nini Wynn

I worked as the sole doctor for five years on one of the outer islands of the Southern Cook Islands, a Pacific Island Nation. The hospital with eight-beds had basic facilities and diagnostics only.  We could not provide advanced Cardiac Life Support because there was no Defibrillator. During my stay on the island, I met a family of five: father, mother and three children – two daughters and one son, who faced three deaths in 4 consecutive years.

The 8 year old boy became ill and when it became apparent that he was not improving he was transferred to Rarotonga, the main island, an hour’s flight away. He was found to have an abdominal lump and was referred on for further investigations and management to Auckland, New Zealand, which involved a 4 hour flight and crossing a national border. 
He was diagnosed there with Nephroblastoma (Wilm’s Tumor). Prognosis was very poor and he died at the Auckland Hospital, far from home. The whole family was devastated and shattered. His body was brought back from New Zealand to the Cook Islands to be buried. Blessings were received after this boy passed away and his mother gave birth to another son. They were all so happy to have a new member in the family. However, a year later, one of their daughters was killed in a motor vehicle accident; she fell off the moving car on the way back from school, sustained a severe head injury and was killed instantly. She was brought into the hospital with no sign of life. The parents were informed and they arrived at the hospital hoping against hope. Her mother held her tightly in her arms and said that she loved her so much - she did not even get a chance to say a few words before her daughter’s last breath. Her father was quite a strong man and we did not see him crying, but we all knew that he must have been crying in his heart.  
Bad luck came in a row to that family –the following year the father became sick. He was 54 years old at that time he presented with epigastric pain and weight loss. He had had the pain for quite a while but did not seek medical attention. Clinically, no positive findings were found and he was referred to Rarotonga for further investigation. There is plain X-ray and ultrasound at Rarotonga hospital but no complex imaging i.e no CT scan or MRI. A gastroscopy was done which showed gastric outlet obstruction and a diagnostic biopsy came back as ‘normal gastric mucosa’. However, his condition did not improve and serious discussions followed with the patient, family and the health team. The possibility was that the biopsy taken might have been insufficient and missed a pathology. There were some issues and controversies during the process of his referral, which caused delays in sending him to tertiary care. When he was finally transferred to Auckland, New Zealand he was diagnosed with inoperable carcinoma of stomach and he died six months later in NZ. He was not well enough to travel home. 
I was amazed at the wife and the mother who had faced three deaths in a row - she was so strong and she dealt with her grief with a real will, whilst taking care of the rest of the family- herself, her eldest daughter and the last born son. She had faced expected and unexpected death. She travelled twice to Auckland and spent precious time with her late son and late husband during the last days of their lives. She respected her husband’s wishes to get treatment with traditional medicine for his cancer, because he believed that it could heal him. He was in a denial stage. As the breadwinner of the family, he had a strong will that he must live on. His priority was his family. He did not want to leave his wife and two children. Even though his wife knew the reality-that her husband was living in his last days, she never argued or went against his wishes. The small community of Cook Islanders based in Auckland, gave her and the family help and support in different ways; psychological, spiritual and financial, during her difficult times. His family accompanied his body back to his home island where he was buried close to his ancestors and his daughter.

When I look back at her story, some questions arose in my mind; would there have been any difference in survival and prognosis of this man and his son if they had lived in a big city with specialist care and advanced modern medical technology? Would the man have survived if the referral had been done more urgently? Is this an example of the health inequality/disparity for people living in rural remote areas? If it is so, could there have been a huge difference to this woman’s life?

What shines through is the resilience shown by the family – the very strong sense of belonging to a place – their island - wanting to be there whether in life or death. This love of their home and their people is perhaps the most important.

About the author

My name is Nini. I live in the Cook Islands, a small Island Nation in the Pacific. My work is in the Outpatient and Emergency Department at Rarotonga Hospital. Rarotonga is the main island of the Cook Islands. Prior to that, I worked in a small hospital on one of the Outer Islands which provides primary health care for the local community.

Currently I am working in a rural hospital in NZ to complete the two six-months placement as a part of the newly established Cook Islands General Practice Training Programme. This programme started in 2014 and was developed by the Cook Islands Ministry of Health in partnership with the University of Otago and the RNZCGP. Before this doctors in the Cook Islands had no Family Practice training pathway."

My story is based on a social and cultural concept on death and dying in rural and remote community – from the time I was working on the Outer Island.

Saturday, 4 February 2017

A love story

Una Historia de amor 
Rossana Betancur Escobar

Translated into English by Mayara Floss

Imagene: La pareja.

Con Felipe nos conocimos en el barrio. En un cumpleaños de su hermana.El es 3 años mayor que yo.Nos gustamos apenas nos miramos…empezamos a pololear  a escondidas.
Yo tenia 16 años y el 19 .Pasaron dos años y quedé embarazada….yo me di cuenta que queria ser mamá, pero que era como una ilusión de niña-mujer,de sentir que algo nos unía…Poco a poco  mi guatita creció y mi mamá empezó a preguntarme cosas, sobre mi regla, que por que estaba tan palida…yo traté al máximo de que no supiera, hasta que me puso entre la espada y la pared…no me quedó mas que contarle.Asi que empecé mis controles,a llevar a Felipe a la casa…el mas duro en aceptar  fue mi papá…yo era su regalona..dijo algo asi como que la vida iba a ser mas dura …yo no le hice caso y seguí adelante con la ilusión de tener a mi hijita…ahora ya sabíamos que era niñita…yo me la imaginaba jugando,saliendo al parque , haciéndolo que ella la hiciera feliz,en fin.
Llegó el momento del parto y nos fuimos al hospital…debería haber sido  un momento de alegría..pero no no fue asi…un trabajo de parto largo..una bandita en la guata que mostraba los latidos cada vez  mas lentos de su corazó matrona corriendo a avisar el doctor…pasaron las horas mas largas de mi vida…cesárea de urgencia…Felipe y yo nos mirábamos,cual de los dos más asustados….se acercó el doctor de los recién nacidos y nos dice que nuestra hijita viene con un problema…que su cerebro no recibió el suficiente oxigeno…que está como dormida…que necesita una maquina para que no se le olvide respirar…no sabria describir que sentí…mezcla de miedo, rabia,dolor ….pero pensaba…tranquila está viva….
Pasaron los días, y quedó así…como una plantita, conectada a maquinas…que gracias a ella podía seguir viviendo…pasaron muchos meses…tenia una sonda para alimentarse, un tubito en la traquea para respirar,un ventilador , lmonitorizada las 24 horas.Todo estos nombres raros  los aprendí con el tiempo, gracias a la enfermera que la cuidaba , que antes de cualquier procedimiento me contaba lo que le iban a hacer.
Mis padres dejaron de estar ariscos conmigo…hablamos mucho…lloré…me abrazaron…con mi madre nos turnábamos para cuidarla…
Habían pasado varios meses….Felipe no tenia un trabajo estable…empezaron las discusiones..yo estaba tiempo completo para mi hija…no quería pensar en ninguna otra cosa…cuando el decidió alejarse…estuve de acuerdo…eso generó rechazo hacia el de mis padres..pero yo entendí su situación…demasiado jóvenes para comprender lo que estaba pasando.
Mi hija no habla…no se ríe…pero yo se lo que le pasa…ya creo que es mejor irnos a casa.
Nos envían gente del hospital para seguir ayudándonos…algunas cosas las manejo yo mejor que ellos…pero están dispuestos a ayudarme y aprender , cuando tienen dudas me lo dicen , se comunican con su pediatra o los médicos de la unidad…yo lo agradezco….me empiezo a reconciliar con el hospital…no es que yo crea que hay algo malo ahí…solo que cruzar su umbral,vienen todos los recuerdos a mi mente, me falta el aire, empiezo a sudar…
Ya a un año de dicen algo sorprendente….ya no hay mas insumos…empieza a fallar el viejo ventilador mecanico….viejo porque no tiene repuestos..pero mi hija sigue viva!!!...sigo peleando con quien sea y donde sea…voy donde el señor donde mandan a mantención las maquinas…invento repuestos…reciclo…vuelve a funcionar….voy a la muni…me dan ayuda económica…estoy agresiva  con medio mundo,incluso en la casa… siento angustiada….mi hija está mas inquieta,las maquinas pitean …comprendo que no puedo seguir asi…me visita la kinesologa del hospital….habla con la doctora y ella le pide que me visite la psicóloga….tengo rabia…he luchado tanto y siento que todos me miran diciendo… para que?....como que para qué!!! mi hija …ella me necesita y seguiré luchando por ella…se que sus días son pocos ,pero mientras ella respire, manifieste su dolor, cambien los parámetros de su maquina…..aqui voy a estar….
Ha pasado el tiempo…estoy asumiendo un poco mas mi vida…volví a estudiar…descanso algunas horas….cuando me visitan me traen los insumos, eso es un viaje menos  y un día mas con mi hija...cuando tengo alguna duda los llamo y me siento apoyada…hay una paramédico que se sentó un dia conmigo a conversar y me hizo tan bien.
Hace unas semanas vino Felipe, hablamos , nos perdonamos…le hablamos a la hija…que la amábamos mucho y que aceptábamos su destino….estuvo muchas semanas muy hasta a un cumpleaños la llevamos…. Con ventilador y todo!.
…Nuestra hija falleció hace unos días…ella fue el regalo mas hermoso que me dio la vida.... pudimos darle la mejor vida que su condición permitió, en su casa, con su gente…superando una  sobrevida , que nadie imaginó!
Estoy embarazada…me fui a vivir con Felipe…tenemos dificultades..como cualquier pareja…pero estamos viviendo nuestro amor con nuevas energias .Sabemos que nuestra segunda hija será única y que no viene a reempalzar a nadie y que nuestra primera hija vino a enseñarnos muchísimas cosas que esperamos poder practicar…
A love story 
Rossana Betancur Escobar

Image: The couple.

I met Felipe in the neighbourhood on his sister's birthday. He was 3 years older than me. We just started to look at each other. We started sneaking around.
I was 16 years old and he was 19. Two years passed and I became pregnant. I realized that I wanted to be a mom, but it was like an illusion of girl-woman, to feel that we have something in common. Little by little my belly grew and my mom started to ask questions; about my periods, why I was so pale; I tried to show that I did not know nothing until she put me between the “sword and the wall”. I had nothing more to tell her. So I started my rituals; brought Felipe home. The hardest to accept this was my dad. I was my father's favourite. He said something like life was going to be harder. But I did not pay attention and I went ahead with the illusion of having my little girl. At that point we already knew that it would be a little girl. I imagined her playing, going to the park and making her happy, in any way.
It was time for the delivery and we went to the hospital. It should have been a moment of joy, but it was not like that; a long labor, something around my belly showed a slower heartbeat and the midwife ran to warn the doctor. The longest hours of my life passed. I needed an emergency cesarean. Felipe and I were looking at each other. I did not know which of us was more frightened. The paediatrician approached and told us that our little girl came with a problem, that her brain did not receive enough oxygen, that she is asleep and needs machines to not forget to breath. I do not know how to describe what I felt, a mixture of fear, anger and pain but I thought to relax as she was alive.
The days passed and she was like this- a little plant connected to machines. Thanks to it  she could continue to live. Many months passed; she had a tube to feed, a tube in the windpipe, a ventilator and monitored 24 hours. All these strange names I learnt over time, thanks to the nurse who cared for her, who before any procedure told me what they were going to do.
My parents stopped being angry with me and we talked a lot. I cried and they hugged me. With my mother we took turns taking care of her. 
It had been several months now. Felipe did not have a stable job and the discussions began. I was full time for my daughter and I did not want to think about anything else. When he decided to leave I agreed but that generated a rejection from my parents. But I understood his situation, we were too young to understand what was going on.
My daughter did not make any sound, she did not laugh but I knew what happened to her and though it was better to go home.They sent people from the hospital to continue helping us; some things I managed better than them. My parents were willing to help me learn, when they had doubts they told me, they communicated with her paediatrician or the doctors of the unit. I appreciated it and I began to reconcile with the hospital, not that I believed there was something wrong there, it just crossed the threshold; all the memories came to my mind, I felt I did not have air, I started to sweat ...

Already a year after her birth and they said something surprising; there were no more supplies, the old mechanical ventilator started to fail because it had no spare parts but my daughter was still alive!!! I continued to fight. I went to the lord, where they sent maintenance to the machines, I invented spare parts, I recycled and it worked again. I went to the major, they gave me financial help. I was aggressive with half the world, even in the house I felt distressed. My daughter was more restless and the machines made loads of sounds. I understood that I could not keep going like that. I visited the physiotherapist of the hospital and I talked to the doctor and she asked me to visit the psychologist. I was angry. I had fought so much and I felt that everyone was looking at me saying fighting for what? .... what!!! ..... She was my daughter, she needed me and I would continue to fight for her. I knew that her days were few, but while she breathed, manifested her pain and changed the parameters of her machine, here I would be ....
Time had passed. I assumed a little more of my life. I went back to study; I rested some hours. When they visited me they brought me the supplies, it was one trip less to get the supplies and one more day with my daughter. When I had some doubts I called and I felt supported. There was a paramedic who sat for a day with me to talk and it made me feel so well.
A few weeks later Felipe came. We talked and forgave each other. We talked to our daughter; we said that we loved her a lot and that we accepted her destiny. We had a good many weeks , she even had her birthday, with her ventilator and everything !
Our daughter passed away a few days ago. She was the most beautiful gift that life gave to me. We were able to give her the best life that her condition allowed, in her house, with her people, surpassing a survival, that no one imagined!
I'm pregnant now. I went to live with Felipe, we had difficulties like any couple but we are living our love with new energies. We know that our second daughter will be unique but she would not replace our first child, our first daughter came to teach us many things that we hope to practice ...
Rossana Betancur Escobar-resident doctor in Family Medicine at U. de la frontera in Chile. 
I started to write this material as a compilation of life histories of my patients throughout my 9 years of work. It involves mainly rural health with cultural relevance, as Mapuche population predominates in my area, which I respect and greatly admire.
In 2009, I started working in a Health Unit as a family doctor, at Hernan Henriquez Hospital in Temuco, Chile, the unit was responsible for caring for patients affected by acute pathologies to terminal cancer, in their homes.
People come from all over the region and from the city and I continue to attend a large percentage of rural population. I try to get the attention of my colleagues in other specialties, in a hospital of high complexity, to raise awareness about patients being cared at home with the support of their families. So was born this idea to tell patients life stories and how they have experienced sickness.
Today I am working in a rural health center, located in the interior of Mapuche communities and I hope to write more stories.