“Freely you have received, freely give.” These words of the Gospel continue to inspire Sister Roberta Pignone, missionary of the Immaculate Conception and doctor in Bangladesh. Where, despite so much effort, she still tries to give herself so that everyone’s life can be more beautiful. Here is his story
«Sister it!» is the phrase with which I begin my days now for about six months in which my hospital has to host many women with their children. And it’s a hoot! «Sister it» means «Sister, give me» and it is now a daily request: children ask me for everything and more and more, it is in their nature.
And in recent days the Gospel told us that we have received freely and freely we must give: «At that time Jesus, seeing the crowds, felt compassion for them… Along the way… heal the sick, raise the dead, purify the lepers… you received free of charge, give freely » (Mt 9,36).
How much have I received! How much I receive and I can’t keep anything: I have to give in love, in pampering, in tenderness!
The last gift for me was the presence of one of my sisters passing through here, so dear, to whom I am particularly attached and with whom I was able to share the joy of my daily life. The beauty of the gift is greater if shared with those who know how to fully understand the quality of the gesture.
And so is the joy of the swimming pool that has refreshed the sultry days: how much laughter, how much joy in throwing the water on one another with the puppies splashing around!
Seeing these women laugh heartily who are not used to having fun, being together, enjoying the little things that can be done here, even just eating an ice cream in the evening before going to bed (even if finding a snake here in the midst of us): life is hard for them.
Modina is 23 years old and has been married for 9, to a man who is psychiatrically ill and does not seek treatment and makes life impossible for her! She has been here for about 5 months between coming home and the next in an attempt to make her husband see reason. We gave her the sewing machine so that she could become financially independent, but her husband sold everything he had at home and she managed to hide the machine at her father’s house and then to be hospitalized again here with us.
Her husband claims her and the children, but I’ve managed to keep them here with us under the guise that they’re on TB prophylactic drugs. Her husband hasn’t been heard from since the last hospitalization and she was serene: last week we spent our afternoon in the pool, the laughter, the joy… My heart aches to see Modina laughing carefree with us and with the his children. After playing, I sent everyone to change clothes and we met again half an hour later; all the joy had been erased by a phone call from her husband who was demanding her and the children after two months. My happiness has given way to anger: it’s not possible that even that little serenity that lives here will be deprived of it.
The husband showed up the next day and wanted to take everyone home. I managed to get another week of hospitalization, saying that Modina is still positive (lie!) and that I can’t discharge her. It was not easy to deal with it; I had to raise her voice and as a doctor impose not to be able to discharge her.
But it’s been a week, only a week, and that doesn’t change her life: she’ll have to go back to living with that man who has made her life impossible ever since she had to marry him, as she told me herself.
On my birthday she told me that the next day would be her wedding anniversary: for nine years her life has become hard and her only joy is her two children aged 4 and 1 and a half years.
What can I do? I can’t keep her here for life but I can make her feel all the good that she has never received from her husband. I can ensure that our hospital can become a place for heart care as it is for Amena and Litaz, who, despite having been discharged, return once a week, on Tuesday mornings with their children, they stay here for lunch and in the afternoon we play together.
Yes, the hospital has also turned into a small nursery school… or, as I like to call it, a super “puppyland”!
After the time of the Coronavirus pandemic we are back to kisses and hugs, they need them, we all need them and so, let’s challenge the Covid-19 which seems to not want to give up… Let’s hope for the best!
Every day in our hospital we wake up with screams, tears and squeals of those who can only express themselves in this way to get what they want: and here is a new puppy, they haven’t given him a name yet and so I call him ” pondhitt” which means scholar! And the son of Saimon, a patient of mine for a long time and who is undergoing therapy for the fifth time for tuberculosis which has now returned to the tibia. She was scared during her pregnancy, she is very thin and fragile and at the consulting room where she went to get checked they immediately told her that she could not have faced a natural birth. I took her to a private gynecologist who ensured that she would take care of her and do everything to make her give birth naturally and at the most she would have done a cesarean. I trusted. On Wednesday, after being checked by the gynecologist, labor began and so we went to that phantom private clinic which is right in front of the government hospital. Then I found out the reason for that location! On admission, big confusion and then finally we were told to go to the third floor, no lift! We carried her up in our arms! Once in the room, the midwife came. Saimon was lying on the bed (let’s not talk about the condition of the sheets and the pillow!); I was sitting on the bed opposite. Here the midwife approaches me and patting me on her shoulder she tells me not to be afraid that she’s here and that the birth will go well! I specified that the birth was not mine but that of Saimon who had a prominent belly. «Excellent start!», I said to myself and after half an hour I decided that I would go home leaving her with her mother-in-law and future sister-in-law: the advice they gave her was too different from mine, so I thought I’d leave it to them the field, so there was the midwife to whom I told to call me once the birth started.
They called me at 1 in the morning and I went to the clinic. The birth was not progressing and Saimon kept begging me to ask for a cesarean. I told her I couldn’t decide, it wasn’t my hospital and then the nurse who followed her (the midwife was not in sight) told her that in that clinic they don’t do caesareans at night and you had to wait for the morning. And it was two in the morning!
Then the power went out and the generator never started. Saimon gave birth to his puppy with the flashlights of our cell phones and with some air made with the advertising cards of medicines! Once the baby was born, the sleeping midwife finally arrived. And the power came back on after they stitched it up.
I was frozen, I didn’t open my mouth because if I had spoken the clinic would probably have come down: that clinic that has been set up right there in front of the government hospital so that, if necessary, they said that a caesarean could have been done. Maybe carrying Saimon in her arms because there isn’t even an ambulance.
I think there aren’t many words to add: I asked many to pray for Saimon that night because it’s true, where we can’t make it, the Lord will take care of making things right. In the end, the birth went well and now Saimon still pampers the baby in our hospital for a few days, under the attentive care of his two older brothers.
I have been by his side and he thanks me for this every day, strange sensations, my impotence, not being able to decide but to recite prayers in silence so that everything goes well. They are Muslims and often invoked Allah; I entrusted Saimon to Maria and everything went well. But I don’t forget her fear, her constant request for help, her telling me about her: «SisterI can’t take it, I can’t survive, I can’t give birth”. I shook her hand and prayed: if something happened to her, I who had chosen that doctor and brought her to that clinic, felt all of her responsibility. They certainly won’t see me in that place again!
Now what gives me the most joy is hearing the puppy cry and seeing everyone’s happiness. And it’s Modina who does the night shift to cuddle him so Saimon can sleep, even though I know that in her heart she is afraid of having to go back to her husband. I can’t do more, I can’t hold her any longer, but I can only give her all the love and care she needs for her.
The patients may have lost a little peace of mind, but I don’t worry too much, what remains in the end is the love that these women have been able to receive in these months of sharing life, so that at least life can be a little prettier!
And I stay there sister of the swimming pool, the “sisters of the sword“, the sister who is moved because a patient who has passed an exam brings me a sweet to share the joy. Love passes, love remains and warms the heart. A balm that never ceases to be shared, a balm that enters the skin, the body and soothes, perfumes and makes it more beautiful. The balm that is consumed but we hear it in these words: “Freely receive, freely give”. I receive the balm every day from your love and from knowing that I am in her heart and in her thoughts and so I can continue to give myself so that their lives can be more beautiful.