Trusting a doctor in shorts

If there were an upper middle class in Cuba, it’d live at El Vedado.

Unlike Old Havana, which is falling apart, El Vedado is well kept, and that’s where Natacha, Valeria, and I went to meet Dr. Salles for our first visit at his apartment.

The meeting was informal, and that explains why Dr. Salles received us at night, wearing shorts and sandals; he was strongly recommended to us, so his fashion preferences was something that we could overlook.

Dr. Salles, a man in his mid-forties, almost bold, but in good shape, wasn’t charging us for the visit; still I was aware of the Cuban tradition of giving doctors a little thank you gift. I had got him a 16 GB flash drive because that’s what people mainly use to trade movies, pictures, and music due to the lack of Internet. Those whom I had given flash drives, as gifts, were very grateful.

He first checked Valeria’s hands, and said,  “With the extra index fingers, I’ll create the thumbs”. For Natacha and I, it was great news; he was confirming what Dr. Miki, in Miami, had told us a few days before; although using another technique. “Just to be clear,” he added, “they won’t be perfect looking thumbs, but she’ll be able to grasp things. I’d wait until she’s two year old to operate those though,” he said.

Valeria was oblivious to all the plans we were foreseeing for her; she was having fun pulling Dr. Salles hair of his legs.

“Her right foot won’t be complicated, but the mirror foot is going to require more work,” he said. “Her feet could be done right after she turns one,” he added. “Why not all together,” Natacha asked. “Because I want to see how the hands develop; right now it’s too early to tell,” he responded. “Still, there will definitely be more than two surgeries, maybe four all together.”

He then got an iPhone, and took pictures of her feet and hands. If I had thought I was going to surprise him with the flash drive, he rather surprised me with his iPhone, which is a device I ignored they could have in Cuba. When I gave him my gift, he wasn’t impressed.

We agreed to call him the day after to get an estimate now that he had an idea of what needed to be done. We felt confidence that he could perform the surgery, but logistics had to be considered; going to Cuba four times in a short period of time might prove difficult.

Valeria and her grandmother Loly in La Havana

Stepping Up to Correct a Mirror Foot

La Havana, Thursday January 31st 2013

"What are the risks of the surgery? I asked Dr. Salles. "There could be a problem with a nerve or a vein." He responded. "But there's only a 2 or 3 percent chance that something will wrong."

With a 97% chance of success in correcting in Cuba the feet of Valeria, my 6 month-old daughter, I’ll go back to the U.S. pleased with this good option; still, the search for the right doctor for Valeria must continue.

Dr. Vitale, from the New York Presbyterian Hospital was the first doctor we visited right after Valeria was born, and he was honest. Dr. Miki, from the Miami Children Hospital was the second doctor, and he was encouraging, honest and provided an excellent alternative.

Valeria's case is extremely unusual. Her left foot is a mirror foot; that's is; if you put the inner part of your foot next to a mirror, the reflection would seem part of your food; for her, it is. Researching for similar cases, I’ve only found 28 such cases in the world, and only seven, which have been treated.

Her right foot has an extra toe with a little finger growing out of it; like a brunch from a tree. Both of her hands lack thumbs; instead she has an extra index finger in each hand.

The lacking of thumbs hasn’t stop Valeria from holding her baby bottle since she was 5 months old; insisting on getting my phone into her mouth, and pulling poor Greta’s hair, our little maltipoo, that only reacts by crying. For these reasons I know Valeria will be able to do anything in life that she proposes.

Valeria and Natacha in Miami

Her hair hasn’t grown yet, so Natacha and I are crossing our fingers; I want her to have hair, and Natacha wants hers. I’m a happy that until now she looks like me. “I had never seen a baby who looks a lot like her dad,” said an immigration officer at La Havana airport. “ Her name should be ValeGina”, said an aunt of Natacha, referring to my name Gino. She’s got her mother’s deep black eyes, which are very important because they’re crucial to define a person; she also has Natacha’s button nose.

It’s incredible the joy that Valeria has brought to us; it now depends on us to make her as possible as we can; that’s why we’re in Natacha’s country, Cuba, well recognized for its health system, meeting doctors until we can determine who is the perfect doctor for Valeria.

Valeria and I at the Hotel Nacional in La Havana, Cuba