Dr Henry to the rescue

Dr Gillian Henry isn’t a sound sleeper. When the two telephones, her cellular and the handset for her residential line kept on her bed at nights begin ringing, she’s almost 100 percent sure that she’s being summoned to work — a child is in need of her help. As if acting by instinct, the paediatric cardiologist jumps off her bed, gets dressed and already is in her car.

Never mind the time, 12 midnight or 4 am, Dr Henry will be there at the Mt Hope Medical Sciences Complex in a hurry. Life on call, 24-hour call is not as Dr Henry interpreted it when she entered the field four years ago, but she has learned to juggle all her pursuits around her career.Dr Henry is one of two paediatric cardiologists in Trinidad. Apart from working an 8-4 job, she’s also on constant call. Her profession entails evaluating the condition of a patient’s heart “to determine if something is wrong” and then recommend for surgery.After 13 years of study at the University of the West Indies and NYU, USA, Dr Henry was ready to return home, anxious to apply all the knowledge she acquired. “In my last year at NYU I was impatient to come back,” and when she did, “I think I was on a huge honeymoon period,” she said. But there were the “frustrations” of the job, like not being able to access “rudimentary” things. “A patient of mine may need something (tests done) and I can’t get it. The Health service is not where it should be,” Dr Henry said. But her dealings with her patients far outweigh any looming “frustrations” of the job. “Children for the most part are great. You feel humbled that they are allowing you to take care of them. There are patients that keep me up at nights and I don’t mean on the phone... I’m thinking what are we going to do with that child.”

When the last child is discharged from the hospital, there’s that feeling of instant joy, “everybody is flushed,” she said. In her short time at Mt Hope, she noted some progress in her area where some 218 children have had open heart surgeries between the period September 1998 and April 2003.Her patients’ cases vary from congenital (children born with abnormal hearts) to acquired heart diseases and “dealing with heart diseases means you’re dealing with death.” She observed the difference in behavioural patterns of children when compared to adults who suffered a similar illness. While the adults would have numerous complaints, the countenance of ailing children never betray their anxieties. Their mannerisms and comments, though naive and comical, are uplifting. Dr Henry recalled a few examples: “There was this four-year-old boy who had a rash on his back and according to the books, we needed to look at his legs as well. So, while we were there taking off his clothing, he whispered to his mother ‘Is a good thing I wore my Superman underwear’,” and Dr Henry couldn’t help but laugh. She recalled another while doing her internship at NYU Medical Centre: “There was this two-year-old who stuck something in his ear and when we took it out we discovered it was a blue bead. So I’m sitting in front of the parent and the child and I’m showing the mother the blue bead in the palm of my hand and right there and then the child takes it and puts it into his mouth.”
Her most “public” case was the conjoined twins Gita and Sita, born to the Sookoos of South Trinidad, last year. The twins shared a single heart and after their condition deteriorated and their heart weakened, they died.

In just one week, Dr Henry sees over 45 children at the weekly clinic, few of whom are brand new cases. Her week is also spent reading echos, ultrasounds of the heart, and teaching university students. For a six to eight week period she teaches groups of students numbering 20-30 on rotation at the hospital. “But the whole job blossoms with the teaching and the students. It’s worth it... You feel like you’re doing something or making some kind of positive change to the medical profession. When I was in medical school I actually admired the lecturers. It’s probably the best part of the job,” said Dr Henry. Of importance, she said, is teaching them “to treat each child as if they’re their own.” Single, with no children of her own, Dr Henry, 38, is sometimes teased when “I pick up a child and say he’s so cute, or he’s a darling and people tell me it’s time to have my own. I give the child back right away.”

In 1999, Dr Henry worked a three-month stint in general paediatrics under the RHAs (Regional Health Authorities) at the Port-of-Spain General Hospital and later was invited to join the team at UWI. It’s an interesting switch of career paths, since she wanted to be an astronomer while at St Joseph’s Convent, St Joseph. “My mother would borrow books from the library on astronomy, but at some point while at school it didn’t seem practical. It was somewhere in sixth form that I decided I’d do medicine. I remember reading about medicine in one of those Timelife books on careers,” she said, and that’s when Dr Henry began envisioning herself in the white coats and scrubs. You wouldn’t find her wearing the white coat, though, since “putting on one is just enough to scare the children.” When she told her parents of her desire to study medicine, which would mean going to Jamaica (UWI, Mona Campus) their reaction to her words were not as enthusiastic as she expected, since she had not been away from home for any lengthy periods and her parents didn’t “warm up” to the idea of their daughter leaving them.

Nevertheless, the Henrys — her mother a retired librarian and father (deceased) a musician — supported their daughter in her career choice. She was all for the move except that her biggest fear was “being able to do it (medicine) and I was thinking will I be able to keep up with the students there.” But the numerous years of studying that lay before her was not a deterrent in her pursuits. “I like studying and the studying environment, that’s probably why I gravitated to UWI.” But there were drawbacks and the feeling that life was passing her by “when you see friends moving on, buying their house and you’re still begging your parents for book money.” Dr Henry soon realised it was a natural progression and had made the resolve to finish what she started. That’s the attitude she’s adopted when it comes to social activities and “obsessions” she’s embraced.

She loved music at school and played the piano and guitar. “I still play the guitar, but my most consistent obsession is photography. I take pictures of everything. I read a lot of fiction,” particularly the writings of Salman Rushdie, she said. “He has this crazy way of writing, with flights of ideas that connect with a thought of the previous chapter,” she said. Yes, she’s read Rushdie’s “Satanic Verses” and many other works of his. “I like to listen to poetry but I can’t write it,” she laughed. When she can, she catches a reading by the group Circle of Poets. She tries not to miss Russell Simmons’ Def Poetry on cable television. “I’m in the process of psyching myself up to go back to karate,” Dr Henry informed. Though she’s missed out on some karate lessons “I refuse to give up in learning karate” even if it means learning to tie the obi (belt) all over again. She’s also found time to include playing lawn tennis at the National Hockey Centre, though intermittently. And when you think it all ends there, Dr Henry added: “I learned to snorkel, too. It was a natural progression after learning to scuba dive in Tobago and I think this is something they should teach us in school.”