The yellow card doesn’t look like much but these cards are used to write down the information about new patients when their surgery date that has been decided on or further screening.
Handing this card over means handing them the promise of a new life, carefully printed on a label stuck to a little rectangle of yellow plastic. Thousands of hands in Madagascar have reached for these.
I’m holding mine right now; it feels like nothing, and yet on Wednesday these cards will carry all the tremendous weight of hope and fear and longing. There will be hundreds, maybe thousands of hands reaching for them, and we have been tasked with deciding whose fingers will close around one and whose will go home empty. It’s an enormous responsibility, one that none of us takes lightly, and I’m feeling all the usual emotions as I prepare for the day, anticipation and apprehension fighting for the upper hand just like they always do.