A Prescription for Humanity?
by Michelle Stebleton, Associate Professor of Horn, Florida State University
I spent my Christmas vacation on a research trip to Havana, Cuba. Wanting to experience all that the city had to offer, I stayed with a family in the heart of Old Havana instead of in a hotel. Unfortunately, that family included a parrot that was not as friendly as my host. On my second night, Koti the parrot had been let out of his cage to stretch his wings. When I heard a knock at the bedroom door, I assumed it was my host with Koti on her shoulder, coming to say goodnight. It was not.
The parrot knocked on my door by himself! I opened the door, looked down, and started to think, “This isn’t a good idea.” He had already taken a few steps toward me. “Do I close the door and risk closing it in with me, or hope for the best?” I asked myself. Within two seconds, he had bitten me on my toe!
Luckily, I had followed internet instructions for how to pack for Cuba, and had brought with me a complete first-aid kit, so I was able to keep the wound bandaged and slathered in triple-antibiotic cream. An American nurse that I met that evening told me to go to the hospital, that they have fine health care there—she had toured the facilities earlier that day. I chose not to go, but discovered along the way what health care is like for a middle-class Cubano.
During my first day in Havana, my guide spent the day scratching at her legs. The blotches there needed medical attention, which she had scheduled that evening. The next day, I asked her how it had gone with the doctor. She said that he wanted her to use triple-antibiotic cream; however, because there wasn’t any available, she was prescribed antibiotics. She went to two pharmacies during lunch, but they did not have the medication in stock. She went to a third pharmacy that evening, and to two more the next day, all to no avail. She had money. She had a prescription. There were no antibiotics available. There was no antibiotic cream available.
Sharing with my new friend the triple-antibiotic cream that I so mindlessly purchased at the corner drug store, I was reminded that most of us in first-world countries take for granted the availability of even the smallest type of medical care, such as antibiotic cream and band aids. The parrot may have left my toe with a scar, but the experience left my heart and mind just a bit healthier.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Michelle Stebleton has lived in Tallahassee since 1990, when she began her career at FSU teaching (French) horn. A prize-winning musician, her music has taken her all over the world for concerts and clinics. Because of her recurring travel to the Dominican Republic and South America, she began learning Spanish as an adult, which enabled her to communicate better with her friends and students in those countries. Her job keeps her quite busy, but she continually dabbles in other activities, such as continuing to learn Spanish and, now, studying the fascinating field of gemology.
Currently a distance-learning student of the Gemological Institute of America, she became an Accredited Jewelry Professional in 2016, complimenting nicely the degrees she received in Horn Performance at the University of Michigan.
Her writing focuses on experiences from her extensive travels, a career sharing music around the world, and a newfound appreciation for gemstones.
