It’s a Living: Work & Life in Vietnam Today

Chapter 15: Caring

CARING 296 CARING 298 nurse My name is Hiền and I was brought up in Vân La village in Hà Tây province [part of the Hanoi metropolitan area since 2008]. I’m 65 years old and I come from a family of ten siblings. I decided go into medicine because I liked the idea of being able to help people. I started medical school back in 1965 during the war. I was a very hardworking student. Back then, I had to go to school and rescue people from the bombings at the same time. Was I afraid? Oh no. Back then, everyone had to know how to avoid the bombs: you’d know where the shelters were and how to find cover if you got caught out when the bombing started. I always wore a helmet and carried my medical supplies with me in the morning when I went to school. They needed all the medical students’ help at that time, so I just did it. It was normal. That means I didn’t grow up in a time of peace like you kids, I grew up in a time of war. You’ll never be able to imagine what it was like. This village here was bombed heavily; after a while we considered bombing as normal as eating rice. I remember one day, CARING 299 it was only seven in the morning, when they called me to a place about a kilometer away from the school. When I got there, I just threw my bike down and started helping however I could. There were 36 people killed or injured. One bomb would shatter into a thousand pieces of shrapnel. It was terrible. No number of books can ever contain all those memories. I began my career as a nurse in 1965 and retired in 2001. In 1965, I started my studies at the intermediate medical school in Hà Tây, then from 1966 to 1968, I studied General Medicine at the Medical School. In 1968, I started working at the community clinic. I specialized in pregnancies and family planning. My duties included prenatal care, emergencies, deliveries, and then immunizations and vaccines for children up to the age of five. At the time of my retirement, I was working as Director of the clinic. I loved my work. Nothing can compare to the joy of holding a small child in your arms. My favorite part of the job is a peaceful, easy birth where the mother and her child are both healthy. My least favorite part is the plain lack of sleep. But even with all the sleepless nights, I could never dream of taking on any other job. I will always want to have at least one kid among my nieces and nephews embark on this career. No, I don’t have any children of my own. I never wanted a family. I loved a man a long time ago, but he sacrificed his life for the war and I never remarried. It’s not like nobody else ever asked for my hand, plenty did. It’s just that love was simple for me then; when he died, I could never consider loving someone else. These two hands of mine have delivered more than 2,000 babies. Out of 2,000, seven were C-sections. About 50 of them were delivered at home. Of course, nobody wants to deliver at home, but back then the only way of getting around was on bicycle or on foot, and sometimes there just wasn’t enough time to make it to the clinic. Then there’s another 50, well, I delivered them CARING 300 CARING 301 outside. The mother’s water would break while they were out in the fields or somewhere, so someone would call me and off I’d run, through the village, to find the woman who was giving birth. I’m proud to say that no one has ever died in my hands. But I’ll always remember this one case where the mother was having complications. She was quite old, 48 or 49 years old, and was very sick and weak. It was a difficult birth, and we really didn’t think she was going to make it. We couldn’t believe it when just 30 minutes after her son...