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Metaphors and Medicine (Year I): Chapter 13

 “What’s your name, habibi?” I asked our next little patient.


His eyes peered up at me through his eyelashes, and I could tell that he was not shy but rather taking in the moving and bustling figures around him, trying to figure out who to trust. A clever one, and a kind one, with eyes that smiled before his lips did.


Do you want to have a competition?” I asked.


He leaned his head to the side, then nodded slowly. He was seated in a wheelchair waiting for his turn to be out on the OR table. I returned to him with a bottle of water for making bubbles, and immediately became excited.


“I want you to blow as hard as you can, okay? Let’s see who can make more bubbles, me or you.”


And he blew. Initially, they were small, only one or two bubbles. A few minutes later, he was blowing 10 bubbles or more each time. We all cheered, and his shoulders relaxed, his smile became bigger, and he blew harder each time, and each time was met with our cheers. .


Not every problem can be settled like his nerves were settled with a little distraction. But there’s hope in this too. I don’t know how far his family traveled for him to get to this hospital, what checkpoints they had to face. His father was the only one who was able to make it due to the distance.


He was on the table for a few hours, his problem resolved, and hopefully he would return to his normal life in a better condition than when he came to us. There is hope in their sacrifice, in their longing to have the same chance as someone else to get the care they need. This is not a land for those who are not resilient. These families endure, endure, endure.


The walls are spray painted with “free the prisoners of war” alongside huge villas. There are posters with the faces of martyrs near the hospital. There are small signs of occupation that interrupt this medical mission, even though its goal is not political. And sometimes it is just as important to take a break from looking at these signs, kneel down in front of a child, and have a bubble blowing competition, watching the bubbles get bigger and multiply each time.

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