Silence

He does not know his surname.

Robert* is an eight year old boy who has a body of a five year old: short in stature and very thin his bones seem to stick out from the sockets. He is very quiet.

“Ako, Villa ang apelyido ko. Sa’yo, ano?” I urged him on. He wouldn’t even look at me in the eye. The only answer I got was a shrug, telling me he didn’t know.

Interviewing Pediatric patients can be very difficult, especially if the child does not want to talk. Trust for a child is a big issue, and establishing good rapport with Robert is my priority above anything else.

I proceeded with measuring his oxygen saturation and pulse rate through my pulse oximeter in his finger. His interest was piqued when he saw bright green numbers coming to life in the little black monitor of the gadget. When I removed the gadget, he drifted off in his own world again as he looked at me warily from time to time.

Since this was a dermatological mission, I asked Robert if it was okay for him if I lifted his T-shirt to inspect his skin. He nodded. My worst fear was confirmed.

There, spread all over his tummy, were numerous circular scars the size of cigarette butts. Some were even overlapping. His back also harbored a few of these scars. Several of the lesions could be seen on his extremities, the shape of which I couldn’t imagine what the cause was.

I inspected his ears closely, wondering if he couldn’t hear me because he didn’t answer most of my questions. From the outside, solidified ear wax could be easily seen clumped in both his ear canals.

Then a caregiver from the institution went to me and explained Robert’s case. He was found abandoned outside Quiapo Church last year. A concerned citizen brought him to a local hospital because he was so weak he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He couldn’t even stand on his own. He was referred for adoption in the institution where he was now in on the eve of Christ’s birthday, December 24.

The caregiver told me they wanted a specialist to examine Robert’s head. They were afraid his hearing might be affected by a possible head injury.

In one week’s time I have seen two Pediatric patients who suffered from the hands of their own parents. The other one was a nine month old baby hit by a bottle of gin on the face.

It was heartbreaking. I had to take a moment or two to steady myself, prevent the tears from spilling out and take deep breaths before facing Robert again.

As a medical student, I have a lot to learn in this profession. There are many things I still do not know and understand yet, even in the aid of Harrison’s, William’s, Katzung, Nelson’s, Schwartz, etc.

But the kind of human behavior that inflicts violence on innocent children escapes my understanding. Incomprehensible. Unacceptable.

Seeing Robert and the children who have borne the brunt of their parents’ weaknesses makes me realize that there are a lot of them who have no voice. No voice to protest against the violence that threatens their very lives.

*Name changed for protection