Typical Day

Typical Day

It’s 8 a.m. in China and Dr. Cliff Palate looks at his watch, still on LA time at 5 p.m., and realizes his partner is probably putting the finishing touches on Mrs. Weidermeyer’s 15th round of lipo. He is so happy to be here. He doesn’t even mind the lack of sleep last night from all the mosquitos or the strange seafood in his congee this morning that he could’ve sworn was a live cockroach, instead of the delicacy the locals told him it was. At least he think that’s what they meant, it was hard with him not speaking a word of Chinese. Whatever it was, it was sure crunchy.

His boots stick in the mud, as his translator and helper from New Smiles, Lana Linguist comes to fetch him and escort him to the tent where he will start his day fixing faces. He is so excited. He has been dreaming of this moment ever since he was in Med school learning about cleft lips and palates and severe facial deformities. It took him 6 years and countless nose and boob jobs before he was able to say to his partner and the others in the practice that he was taking a week off from the grind to go to China and fix the unfortunate children who had trouble eating, drinking and living a normal life due to their birth defects. He was even grateful that his movie star girlfriend, Sharon Shallows decided to break up with him a month ago. Sharon would have wanted him to take the vacation days to take her to Cancun or Hawaii to work on her tan. Instead, he gets to finally make a difference.

When Dr. Palate and Lana Linguist arrive at a line that is literally a mile long, he looks confused.

“Why are we stopping here? What are these people all waiting for?” he asks

“You,” says Lana. And indeed, upon closer inspection, Dr. Palate sees babies, children and even some adults with severe facial deformities, malnourished with wide-eyes staring at him expectantly.

“B-But I couldn’t possibly help them all. There are so many of them.”

“Yes, we know. You will do what you can. The rest will have to wait until the next mission.”

“When will that be?”

“Who knows, it took 4 years for this mission to get formed. Just do the best that you can,” she assures the worried looking doctor.

At 8 p.m. China time (5 a.m. LA time), Dr. Palate comes out of the surgical tent for some water and a break. He has been working almost non-stop repairing children’s faces for the past 12 hours and he is dead on his feet. Blood has mixed with the mud to coat the bottom of his scrubs and feet. He is hot and his feet are killing him. He desperately wants to stop for the night and is about to tell Lana this when a four year old girl in a tattered peacock blue dress comes over to him and gives him a wilted wildflower. She says something to him in Mandarin but he doesn’t understand her, but takes the flower nevertheless.

“Thank you.” He says.

The girl has a polka dotted scarf draped around the front of her face so that her mischievous brown eyes peer out at him curiously, the rest of her face is hidden.

“Can I see?” he asks, beckoning her closer. The little girl shyly approaches, lets him take the scarf from her face to reveal a 6 inch wide, deep hole where her lip and palate should be. It looks as if there is an extra mouth growing out of the little girl’s face. Dr. Palate stifles a gag and smiles wider to the girl, hoping not to show his disgust.

The girl’s grandmother appears and scolds the girl in rapid fire Mandarin for running off. She then turns to Dr. Palate and says something else that he does not understand. He turns to Lana for a translation.

“The grandmother says if you can’t fix the girl’s face, she’s been instructed by the girl’s parents to leave her at the side of the road. They won’t have her back unless she is fixed.”

Dr. Palate wipes the sweat from his brow and forces a smile. “No pressure,” he says, hunkering down for another few hours of work. He can rest tomorrow. Tonight, this girl is getting a new smile.