With these Hands
By Onelia Jose, MD

I only had a pair of hands but it was all that I needed. As a first-time volunteer to the CMM joint mission to Iloilo, I had a hodgepodge of expectations. I had always wanted to be part of something as big as this but I doubted what these little hands of mine could accomplish. Not much, and that was for sure. I was one of the new local volunteers, a new recruit, I must say. It seemed like everybody knew everyone else and I felt that I was the only stranger in the pack. There were so many faces to remember and names to recall, but with a simple handshake and a genuine smile, I found new friends,and instantly, I felt I belong. There was a deep sense of camaraderie that was so palpable, and I told myself that I want to be part of it for a
very long time.

On the first day, after we shared a sumptuous lunch, which undoubtedly all of us enjoyed, everybody immediately went to
work, sorting supplies, labeling medicines, packing materials and checking equipment. I had never in my life counted as many
‘chewable vitamins’ with these hands as I had that day. It was a good feeling, though, knowing that for every pill that we counted by hand, someone would stop coughing and would breathe easier, someone’s fever would disappear, someone’s aches and pains would be gone and
someone would get well.

I have not been a surgeon for a very long time and my hands are
crude and rusty. I was so fortunate to have worked with the surgical
team and to learn from the ‘big guys’, literally and figuratively. I
felt so small beside those surgeons, and a lowly footstool to stand
on had been my ‘saving grace’ in every procedure. I admire their
patience with me. I was always on my toes, again, literally and
figuratively.

We took out the biggest and oldest sebaceous cyst I had ever
seen, from this old woman’s chest. It was as big as a newborn
baby’s head. She said the mass had been there since 1948, just a
few years after World War II.

It was very depressing that another woman in her fifties, who was
diagnosed with breast cancer a year before came only that day for
treatment because she had no financial means to undergo the one
procedure that could have given her a new lease on life. With our
hands, we did what we had to do, but we knew it was already too
late. For cancer, time is crucial.

Those two women, one with a bright prognosis, the other, with a
rather dim one, I had held their hands. Those two masses that we
removed, one benign, the other malignant, I held them both in my
hands.

As we cut, ligated, sutured and dissected our way through the
operative field, I stood there in awe, utterly amazed at how
experienced and skillful the other surgeons were.

Theirs were the most beautiful hands that I had ever worked with because theirs were the hands that truly heal.

I was deeply moved by the kindness, generosity and compassion of the CMM organizers, doctors, nurses and all the other volunteers, local and US-based, who selflessly and tirelessly gave their time and effort for this noble cause and shared their blessings with my ‘kababayan’ who needed it the most. I knew in my heart that we all shared this vision, that in the face of each patient, there was the face of Jesus. I felt so blessed for having been given the chance to be His servant and
hoped I had served Him well. The mission was truly a rewarding and eye-opening experience for me.

Finally, as we all joined hands in prayer before we left for Manila, I felt a certain power in these little hands, and now I know what to do with it. I will continue to shake hands to win more friends. I will continue to hone these hands to serve my fellow Filipinos better, to hold more hands and reach out even further, to join hands with others to make us all stronger and continue to raise these hands in praise to the Lord for all His love and blessings.

Onelia “Neng” Jose MD is a general surgeon practicing
in Bulacan. This was her first mission with CMM.