Stevenson

Stevenson Garlande is 17 and is one of the most angelic and amazing beings I have ever met.

During my first night at the United Nations hospital, I witnessed the amputation of his right arm from just below the shoulder.

They had set up a makeshift operating room outside under a tarp, with little light and no equipment. There weren’t any proper amputation tools, so the doctor used his pocket knife and a scalpel to slice away the flesh and hack at the bone until they were able to pull his arm off like a turkey leg at Thanksgiving. There was limited anesthesia, so doctors had only 10 minutes to complete the procedure, and they barely made it in time. Stevenson’s legs started twitching right as they were closing the wound and bandaging his now-stump of an arm.

When I went looking for Stevenson the next morning, I expected to find a bitter and angry young man. Unfortunately, I had not met him before the surgery, but I had seen other amputees who were mad at the doctors and the world for their loss.

Stevenson Garlande stayed
in good spirits despite
having his arm amputated.

Photo by Lisa Lucas

Instead, what greeted me at Stevenson’s cot was a beautiful, angelic face with shining eyes and a gentle smile. He looked up at me and said, “Bonjour, Madame,” to which I immediately said, “Call me Lisa.” He spoke French very well and would later become my Creole interpreter for his mother and father.

His parents, Joel and Janice, stayed by his side all day and night, and whenever I came to see Stevenson, Janice would ask me for food, touching her belly and pointing at her son. Whenever I could, I would sneak them a bag of whatever I could get my hands on. Every time, he smiled and said, “Merci, Madame Lisa.” He never did drop the “Madame.”

Stevenson told me that he was in the house when the quake hit, and that as he was running out the door, the stairway collapsed on him, pinning his arm under the debris. His parents dug at the rubble with their hands for almost two days to try and free him, and finally some men came with crowbars and pipes and were able to get him out. But by then, gangrene had set in, and when rescuers brought him to the hospital, the doctors rushed to save his life. Stevenson was very grateful.

He never complained, and even when he had pain, he said it was OK and asked me for a little more medicine. Just a day after the amputation, Stevenson was holding court outside the tents telling stories and joking with the other patients. As I was leaving, I asked him if there was anything I could get him, and he said, “Yes, an apple and a hug.”

I gave him both.