Barriers numerous for Ortiz family
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BY MARK ANDERSEN / Lincoln Journal Star
Can he walk?
“Puede caminar?” Maggie Ochoa interprets the doctor’s question for the parents of George Ortiz.
It’s the fourth time this morning she’s asked them the same question, and they look at her a little mystified.
Ochoa knows why, but it’s her job to interpret the doctor’s question, not to be an advocate for the family. She’s the invisible person in the room. If 10 different doctors want her to ask Jorge Ortiz and Elizabeth Ramirez if their 4½-year-old son can stand, she will ask them 10 times with the same inflection, never providing the answer.
“They ask us not to make conversation, not to become the one they rely upon,” she says.
She sometimes must break that rule to avoid seeming rude.
“In our culture, that’s not how we act.”
She’s also forced to sometimes interject herself over cultural differences.
Hispanics use a lot of herbs and home remedies, she says.
And when somebody asks what they feed a child, the parent may say meatballs.
“For us, meatballs is a soup.”
Elizabeth Ramirez, meanwhile, has been working hard at learning English to better understand the doctors. It’s helped her overcome some of the feelings of intimidation, she says.
She’d like to take her language learning further and help others in her position.
“Puede caminar?” Ochoa asks.
Only with help, answers Elizabeth.
“Show off your stuff here tiger,” says Dr. Brian Hasley, pediatric orthopedist.
And for the fourth time during this visit to Children’s Hospital of Omaha on Feb. 20, Elizabeth grips tiny George by his shoulders as she counts his steps: “Uno, dos, uno, dos.”
Does he crawl?
No, says Elizabeth. He rolls
Hasley lifts the 21-pound boy onto the exam table.
George cries. It’s more of a soft coo than a throaty peal a healthy baby might make.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Hasley says.
“No voy a lastimarte, lo prometo,” repeats Ochoa.
“He doesn’t like the doctor at all does he?” Hasley says.
“Poor guy.”
“Pobrecito.”
Hasley spreads George’s legs apart and he cries harder.
“Sorry, bud.”
“Lo siento, chico.”
He’s stiff. Do you stretch him?
“I try a little bit,” his mother answers. “It hurts him. I try to every day when changing his diapers.”
George’s small brain is sending too many of the wrong signals, which makes his muscles stiff, Hasler explains.
He looks George over.
“His hips, everything, they’re OK,” he says.
Hasler proposes surgery to lengthen two of the four muscles that pull his legs together.
Should they do that?
Elizabeth moves her eyes from George to her husband.
Neither speaks.
Then, she says they would like that.
Do they want to wait until summer, after flu season, or proceed now, Hasler asks.
Again, Elizabeth moves her eyes from George to Jorge and back.
She kisses George on the top of his head and pauses.
“Proceed now,” she says, with no need for an English translation. “As soon as possible.”
Reach Mark Andersen at 473-7238 or mandersen@journalstar.com.
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