Photo: James Hale ‘78
When Dana Meyer walked into work one day in the pediatric trauma ward of Bolivia’s Germán Urquidi Women and Children’s Hospital, she found a new patient: a 5-year-old girl, alone and crying. Between sobs, the little girl called out for her mother. But the child had been transported hundreds of miles across the country by ambulance– without her parents– to be treated for a broken arm. Meyer sat beside the little girl and colored with her. Minutes later, the child stopped crying. “She just needed to feel like a normal kid again,” says Meyer, a volunteer at the hospital. Two days later, the girl’s mother came to retrieve her, but other kids Meyer cared for in the trauma ward were not so lucky.
A 10-year-old patient named Juan Manuel, for instance, arrived in the hospital with a broken jaw that had become infected. The infection had spread to his esophagus and then to his voice box, which prevented him from speaking. “At one point, he couldn’t even walk,” says Meyer, who worked with him on coloring and other activities during the day. Manuel could neither read nor write. As a result, the two of them communicated through a crude form of sign language day after day. Ultimately, he regained his ability to walk, but he is unable to speak due to the severity of his infection. As for his parents, it remains unclear where they are–or whether they will ever return.
Nobody asked Meyer to hop a flight to Bolivia, the poorest country in South America, and volunteer her time helping kids with broken limbs, snake bites, incapacitating infections, and chemo-therapy treatments. But that’s precisely what this former student from Napoleon, Ohio has done four times: first, for half of her junior year at Denison; then again during three separate visits after her graduation last May.
“The hospital was really understaffed,” she recalls, “which made it the kind of job where you could easily get burned out.” Meyer, however, didn’t get burned out. In fact, thanks to a $10,000 grant awarded by Davis Projects for Peace, not only did she return in the summer of 2009 to volunteer her time, but she decided the experience should also include educational outreach to increase awareness about public health. As a result, she established a series of educational workshops on pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, nutrition, and general wellness. Her program also involved bringing one of her Bolivian peers back home for an introduction to the U.S. healthcare system.
Dana Meyer has traveled to Bolivia four times to help children, like this little boy, who are undergoing treatment at a local hospital. By engaging them in activities, Meyer helps the patients deal with painful injuries, boredom, and lengthy separations from their families. Photo courtesy of Dana Meyer
But day-to-day, she was there for the children. “I worked to comfort patients and keep them occupied during their stay in the hospital,” she says. There are visiting hours for parents, she explains, but due to the long distances parents often travel to get there–and the long hours many poor Bolivian families are forced to work–such visits are often few and far between. Meanwhile, the number of staff members providing care for these patients is severely limited. “They would often leave a child to cry in his or her bed and move on to the next patient,” says Meyer. “It was my job to take the place of the parent when the parent couldn’t be there.” This role often proved challenging. “There was only one of me and 30 patients,” she says.
Through her volunteer work, which was facilitated by a local organization known as Movimiento Sonrisa, Meyer observed the vast differences in resources between this hospital and ones in the U.S. “In the U.S., there would be one or two kids in a room with a large-screen TV,” she says, contrasting that to the ratio of about five children in each room in the Bolivian hospital. She also found cultural differences in the way the indigenous people of Bolivia interacted with the healthcare professionals in the hospital. “Parents of the patients would often ask me questions about the care of their children,” she says, noting that many were afraid to speak up to doctors and ask follow-up questions. In the U.S., she says, parents have almost the opposite tendency, sometimes even challenging the doctors.
After a month or so of work, Meyer began to understand why some of the nurses were sometimes cold to the children. “It was impossible to give every child the attention he or she needed,” she says. Nevertheless, having faith that Meyer was making a difference helped keep her going on particularly challenging days when she wondered whether she was doing more harm than good.
There are visiting hours at the children’s hospital for parents, but due to the long distances the parents traveled to get there–and the long hours many poor Bolivian families are forced to work–such visits are few and far between.
“The strongest part of Dana’s personality is her sensitivity,” says Mariala De Ugarte, who worked as a volunteer with Meyer at the hospital and then traveled back to the U.S. with her to observe how the healthcare system works here, visiting institutions in Ohio, Michigan and Arizona. “She undertakes her work with strength, dedication, and above all, with a great deal of love.” Meyer still keeps in touch with De Ugarte and asks after the children she once cared for, especially Juan Manuel. He is one of the reasons why Meyer is heading off to medical school.