A Shot In the Dark, Or Arm

Two days ago Pecos cut his finger on a rusty strand of barbed wire. This cut, while small, was a little deep and completely distracted him from a usual litany of other perceived ailments. He could not recall his last tetanus shot and did not seem to appreciate occasionally being asked if his jaw was yet locking up. He was worried.

Yesterday morning, as if bidden, an official-looking young man on a motorcycle appeared in our driveway. He dismounted from his motorcycle and untied two plastic file boxes with handles. He wore a uniform with Ministeria de Salud sewn on it. He introduced himself as Henry and asked if we were having a house built down the road. Si, we replied, thinking this would be yet another construction permit.

Henry explained that he is a government health practitioner who makes house calls to give various vaccinations to rural residents. His territory covers several villages high in these mountains and takes in more than 800 families. Were we interested in receiving any shots?

Pecos could hardly contain himself. Salvation was at hand! He showed Henry his finger and immediately invited him inside. Henry would give Pecos a diphtheria-tetanus shot; was I interested as well? No, thank you, I am already protected. Henry opened one of his cases, jotted a quick note, and then took a sterilized needle from its paper covering and quickly injected Pecos. This went well. Pecos did not even flinch.

We visited for a half hour; Henry practiced his English while Pecos plied him with health questions. Pecos mentioned hearing rumors of two people several villages away who were bitten by a certain mosquito last year with the resulting bite growing larger and larger under the skin, finally treated but leaving a wide hole, one reportedly golf-ball sized. He asked if this was possible. I have had this same thing, Henry exclaimed, and he showed us a nickel-sized hole in his arm that he said required 20 anti-venom injections to finally heal. At this news, Pecos did become pale. Henry was also interested to hear about my daughter who will soon be engaged in public health in Kenya.

There was no cost for Pecos’s DT shot. Vaccinations are free to all persons here, Henry said, and practitioners try to reach all corners of the country. He will look for us next year.

Hmmm, I said to Pecos after Henry left, such a pleasant man, yet I’m surprised that you let him give you a shot without first checking his identification.

Pecos rubbed his arm and didn’t answer. I think he was weighing lockjaw versus unknown injection and didn’t care to pursue the conversation further. 