Chapter 28

It was 9:00 on a hazy Sunday morning in Mexico City. Steve Stone approached the front of the U.S. Embassy, withdrew his U.S. passport, and showed it to the Marine standing guard in front of the compound.

"It is imperative that I speak to the Ambassador. I have information that is of vital importance to the United States."

"What kind of information can a young guy like you have that is so earth shaking that you must tell the Ambassador?" asked the Marine, who only had two months to go before he could retire after thirty years of service in the Corps and had heard that kind of statement many times before, usually from crackpots who had tales of plots against the government about to be carried out by unknown conspirators.

"The information that I have can prevent the economic collapse of our country. Look, I am a close personal friend of President Lehrer and it is very important that I see the Ambassador!"

"You're a close personal friend of the new President?" replied the guard, dubiously eyeing Steve's ragged looking clothes. "Sure you are."

"I am a citizen of the United States and I demand to be admitted!" shouted Steve as an officer approached to discover what was disturbing what had been a fairly quiet Sunday morning.

"What's going on here, Sergeant?" asked the captain.

"This young man claims that he is a friend of the new President and that he would like to talk to the Ambassador to tell him that he has some information that is very important to the United States. He says that the information he has can prevent the economic collapse of the United States."

"I was at the rally last night at Teotihuacan when there was an assassination attempt on Jorge Guerrillero, the new leader," began Steve. "I treated the wounded there and accompanied one of the victims to the hospital, where I met Señor Guerrillero. We had a discussion there at 2:00 this morning and I want to let the Ambassador know what I was told. It is of extreme importance to the United States that I see the Ambassador."

The captain examined Steve's passport for a moment. "You said that you treated the wounded last night. Are you a doctor?"

"I have completed medical school and my internship, but I have not done my residency yet. I am currently here on a fellowship, doing research on medical conditions in the barrios and trying to help the poor by providing them with some basic medical treatment that they otherwise would not receive."

"Dr. Stone, will you come inside, please? There are a few things which we must check out about your story, but it should not take too long. If your story does check out, you will be able to meet the Ambassador without any undue delay. If you will come with me, please."

The captain led Steve Stone through the compound of the U.S. Embassy and into a small office on the ground floor of the main building.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Please."

The captain rang for an aide to bring in two cups of coffee.

"Now suppose you fill me in on the details of your story so that we can verify it and get you in to see the Ambassador."

Steve then began explaining to the captain about how he had been at the rally the previous evening at Teotihuacan, about the assassination attempt on Jorge Guerrillero, about treating those who had been wounded in the shooting, and then traveling to the hospital and working with Dra. Morella to operate on the man with the shattered leg, being paged in the hospital, and meeting with Guerrillero. Steve did not tell the captain what he had discussed with the new Mexican leader.

The captain interrupted him. "You said that you were a close friend of the new President. You mean Señor Guerrillero, right?"

"No, I mean President Kathleen Lehrer. I just found out about the Capitol bombing last night and that Kathy, I mean President Lehrer had just succeeded to the presidency. The last time I went back to the States was to attend her swearing in as Secretary of Education. I stayed at her house in Arlington for a few days during my visit there. As a matter of fact, it was her suggestion that I come down here to work with the poor in the barrios upon completion of medical school and before I did my residency."

"I see. Is there anything else that you may wish to add to what you have told me so far that will make it easier to verify your story?"

Steve thought for a moment. "One more thing. Maria Velazquez, who is Guerrillero's top aide, and is also an old friend of President Lehrer, is supposed to leave for Washington tomorrow to meet with the I.M.F. and others in Washington. You should have some sort of request from the new government about that."

"We'll check into that. If you'll wait in the outer office, we'll check out your story and we'll have an answer for you as soon as possible."

Thirty five minutes later, the door to the inner office opened and the captain called him in. "About five or ten minutes ago, we received several reports that confirmed what you had told me earlier. As far as I know, we haven't heard anything from Washington yet, and we probably won't for a few hours. But, I just talked to the Ambassador, and he had just received the request from the new government for Maria Velazquez to go to Washington and he would like to talk with you. If you will come with me, I'll show you to him."

They proceeded to the Ambassador's office and were told that the Ambassador would see Steve in a few moments. The captain left Steve and returned to his office, while the young doctor sat in the chair to which he had been directed by the secretary.

A sense of overwhelming weariness began to descend upon him. The impact of his experiences over the previous thirty six hours, during which he had only had about three hours of sleep, began to hit him. He had started out the previous day like he had so many others since he had been in Mexico, being awakened at 5:00 A.M. by a distraught mother whose two year old daughter was suffering from dysentery, probably contracted from drinking contaminated water. The problem was common enough in the barrios, among all ages, but it was especially dangerous in one so young, because the resulting dehydration could be fatal. Dysentery caused by drinking polluted water is a leading cause of death among children in the Third World.

After the woman and her toddler left, he had enough time to make a pot of coffee, enjoy one cup of the steaming brew, and prepare to pour his second cup when an eight year old child came running in, and asked him to go with him right away. The boy's thirteen year old brother had been rummaging through the nearby dump and his legs had become pinned under a large mound of trash when the heap shifted and collapsed, burying him up to his chest in the putrid pile.

Steve shut off the coffee pot, grabbed his bag, and he and the boy hopped on the doctor's small motorcycle and rushed to the dump. They came upon a group that was feverishly trying to uncover the stricken youth. As Steve approached, the frame of an abandoned car, long stripped of all usable parts, was being exposed. The car frame had pinned the boy's legs and was being slowly uncovered by his rescuers. Steve began talking to the boy, trying to keep him calm while assessing the situation. Soon the car was uncovered enough so that five men were able to gather around the frame to lift it while Steve pulled the boy out by his shoulders.

Steve began to treat a large gash on the boy's left leg that was bleeding freely. He applied a tourniquet to the top of the calf and instructed one of the rescuers about holding it and about loosening it from time to time to allow blood to flow to the rest of the leg and foot. The young doctor then put on a pair of rubber gloves and cleaned the wound. He saw that the gash was deep, almost to the bone. He was glad that the wound was from the middle to the bottom of the calf instead of higher up the leg because that lessened the amount of blood that had been lost. Steve injected Novocain into the boy's leg and gave him a tetanus shot, then began stitching the slashed blood vessels, but decided to hold off on further stitching until they were back at the clinic where he had more equipment. He had the man who had been holding the tourniquet gradually loosen it to see if the stitches would hold. When he was satisfied that they would, Steve pulled a sterile dressing out of his bag and wrapped the injury. He then turned his attention to the right leg, which had a simple fracture. He reached into his bag and pulled out two inflatable splints, which he placed on each leg. He then told two of the men how to carry the boy to minimize the chance of further injury, and the whole group then proceeded the half mile back to the clinic.

Steve rode back to the clinic and prepared his instruments and the other equipment that he would need to repair the boy's legs. About ten minutes later, his patient arrived, and Steve x-rayed the broken leg and finished stitching his slashed one after removing several shards of glass that he had missed at the dump. After examining the x-ray, he then set the bone and put a plaster cast on the broken leg. While the plaster was setting, he began seeing the patients that had lined up while he had been tending to the emergency. By 11:00 he had begun to make progress when he realized that he had not had anything to eat that day, so he stopped for five minutes and gulped down two peanut butter sandwiches before returning to his patients. By 1:30 he had finished and was sitting down to eat a lunch of tacos and beans that had been brought by one of his patients. He never charged for his services, but his grateful patients would often give him food or clothing to thank him. He received a stipend with his scholarship, much of which he spent on medicines or equipment for the clinic. The rest of the medicine and equipment came from O.A.P., Maria Velazquez's organization to help the poor, as well as some from other donations.