W hen my son was a year and a half, we did a 3 month work term in the Philippines. We were working on a community development project on one of the remote islands for one week of our time there. It was an 18 hour ferry ride from the nearest port. While we were there my son got very sick. We took him to the local clinic where they admitted him and tried for hours to insert an IV into his veins without success. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to watch. How could I put my son through this? What kind of parent was I to put my child’s life at risk because of my work? He screamed until he was worn out and still he got sicker. He was losing fluids faster than we could get them into him. His veins were too small to insert the IV. The nurse matter-of-factly told us that he was going to die. In truth, she said, “When he dies, may I have his portable crib?” We knew we had to get him off the island to save his life. We had health insurance that included emergency medical evacuation. We needed to get approval. We called and the person on the phone asked to speak to a the doctor in charge. After a lengthy conversation, our health insurance provider told us that the doctor on staff had the situation under control and didn’t think we needed to be medically evacuated. Our coverage was denied. We could see our son was fading. We knew we didn’t have time to wait for the morning ferry and begin the 18 hour journey back to mainland. He was dehydrated. His sunken eyes were rolling back in his head. He couldn’t lift his head. He was too sick to cry. It was at that point that we decided money no longer mattered. We called directly to our supervisor and ordered our own medical evacuation. I said to Brian, “I don’t care if this costs a million dollars. I don’t care if we’re going to be in debt for the rest of our lives. Our son is dying and we need to get him off this island now.” A small plane was called. The local people and some of our colleagues worked at quickly filling in potholes in the dirt road

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