The homeless man

He was a walk-in-patient. He carried his ‘home’ with him. Home was just a plastic bag of clothes, a small little pouch, a towel over his neck and some filthy clothes that he was wearing. He came in to nurse a foot ulcer due to diabetes. Hygiene was really bad. His two feet were in pretty bad condition. Blackened with dirt that was so thick that dirt cakes could be peeled off as a layer, one really wonders how his ulcer could not have become infected. His feet were badly calloused and his ulcer was worsening.

What struck me next was his huge edematous feet. They were really bad. It was the same kind of ‘elephant feet’ symptom that I see in many of my cardio patients. I was pretty worried about whether he ever did go to seek medical treatment for his condition. I doubt it. Medical treatment in Singapore costs a huge bomb, especially if you are being treated for a chronic condition.

Even the nurse I was attached to could not do anything much for the patient. She told me that it was pointless to educate him about hygiene and proper footwear because he would not be able to afford it. She could not even give him an appointment as she knew that he will not adhere to it. Instead, he comes in whenever he feels the need (most of the time when his condition worsens and costs him a lot of pain).

My heart went out to him. I knew that his need was not so much of medical treatment, but more of social and financial needs. I knew too that no matter how well I cleaned his wound or give to him the best medical care I could ever provide this time round, his wound would still not heal and he would come back again with a badly infected wound. He was already referred to the medical social worker. However, there was still not much improvement over his situation.

I knew that there was very little that I could do for him. Before he left the wound clinic, I gave him a smile, hoping that he could feel my concern for him. I wanted him to know that I cared, even if no one in this world ever did. He acknowledged my small gesture by smiling back… a sad, lost smile…

As he made his way out of the clinic, I wonder if we would ever meet again. I prayed a silent prayer, praying that God will touch him, meet his needs and heal him. I prayed for the soul of a little boy grown up, rejected by life’s rudeness and striving for acceptance in this hard, hostile world. I am so glad that being a nurse enabled me to step into the hurting world and to touch the ‘untouchable’ through an eye contact, a concerned voice and a warm smile.