By Damon Guinn
A series of operations give a young boy in Honduras the chance to live up to his name.
A series of operations give a young boy in Honduras the chance to live up to his name.
For 10-year-old José, it was the ultimate test of strength. The object he attempted to grab was small and light but weighed heavily on his mind. He would roll it toward his chest, down his wrist, and then curl it into the claw of his hand. But the second he pressed it to paper, his grip was lost, leaving him helpless and dejected.
Before corrective surgery, even the simple act of holding a pencil was an heroic feat for José, a boy other kids once ruthlessly mocked as Dedos de Pato, or “Duck Fingers.” This, despite inheriting the name Hércules from his mother’s side of the family.
“They never let me play with them because they were always saying that I was not a normal boy and that I wasn’t able to play games with them,” José recalls. “That made me feel very sad.”
José was born with a congenital deformity called syndactyly. Fingers on both his hands were fused together by bone and skin. Because José’s condition was “complex,” doctors worried that the fused fingers might share an artery, which, if severed, could cause serious hemorrhaging or damage the vascular flow in his fingers.
José’s mother, Nolvia, couldn’t bear the thought of losing her son during surgery, nor did she have the money to cover the costs associated with an operation. She was the sole provider for her family, scrubbing laundry and selling sandals for $3 to $4 a day.
So José endured the indignity of his deformity until, one day, he was enrolled in sponsorship and the staff doctor and health coordinator, Dr. Armando Palomo, convinced Nolvia that surgery was the best chance José had of leading a normal life.
He urged her to seize the opportunity while they could: “In the regional hospital,” Dr. Palomo explained, “there is only one reconstructive surgeon, and he has access to the operating room only once a week.
“This gives priority to patients who have suffered burns, who need grafts and other emergency procedures.”
Dr. Rider Andino Ulloa was that one and only surgeon
“Last year I was able to perform surgery on only four kids,” the specialist points out. “Without Children International, José would probably still be on the waiting list….”
Four surgeries and a year later, Dr. Andino, who waived his own fees for the operation, believes José will regain full use of his hands in three to six months. He'll require regular professional rehabilitation, but the psychological progress he has made as a result of the operations is clearly working wonders. "It's amazing to see the happiness on his face," remarks the doctor.
“He doesn’t hide anymore,” Nolvia adds, “and doesn’t cry in the corners of the house due to his hands. Now he plays with the other children…he shows everybody his hands, he’s so proud of them. He’s another boy now.”
No longer the object of ridicule, José has conquered his greatest challenge. He may not have the strength of 10 men, but his inner strength is already the stuff of legends.
“The first thing I did when the fingers of my right hand were completely free was to pick up a soccer ball,” José now reflects. “But the best of all was when I took a pencil and started to write. It felt great!”
Reporting assistance and photos by Jesús Almendárez in San Pedro Sula, Honduras.
