A Father’s Cry For Help: When A Vacation Took A Terrifying Turn

When a fun family vacation in Luang Prabang, Laos took a sudden, terrifying turn, a father was faced with every parent’s nightmare. His young daughter was injured, and he didn’t know where to turn. In a foreign land, far from the familiarity of home and unknown medical support, hope came in the form of a hospital he’d never heard of before: Lao Friends Hospital for Children. This is his story.

In 2019, my family and I were visiting the astonishing country of Laos for a short vacation. It was our first night in Luang Prabang, and we had just sat down for dinner when my 4-year-old daughter, Angelica, who was running around the table, tripped, and fell violently backwards. She hit the back of her head hard. I rushed to her as she screamed and cried, and when I picked her up, I saw blood streaming down from her head. It was one of those moments when time slows down and panic takes over

“She hit the back of her head hard. I rushed to her as she screamed and cried, and when I picked her up, I saw blood streaming down from her head. It was one of those moments when time slows down and panic takes over”

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I turned to the restaurant staff for help. The manager told me that for proper treatment, we would need to drive to Thailand. That didn’t seem possible. I asked if there was anywhere in Luang Prabang we could go, and he mentioned the Lao Friends Hospital for Children. It was the first time I had heard of it.

We jumped into a tuk-tuk and rode off into the dark. As we left the town center, the lights faded, and soon we were surrounded by jungle. Though it wasn’t far away, the ride felt endless. Then, through the night, we saw a swinging white neon sign marking the entrance to the hospital. I ran inside holding Angelica, not sure where to go, just hoping someone could help.

And they did, immediately and with so much care. The staff didn’t hesitate for a moment. They took Angelica from my arms and began evaluating her. That was when I realized my white shirt was soaked with blood. At first, they told us that both glue and stitches had run out, and they suggested a traditional method of tying strands of her hair together around the wound to stop the bleeding. I was nervous, unsure, but they were calm and reassuring. What struck me most wasn’t just the treatment. Though it was excellent, but the way we were treated as human beings.

“Then, one nurse, unwilling to give up, began searching the entire hospital for medical glue. Incredibly, she found some. They disinfected the wound carefully, gently closed it with the glue, and monitored her closely. All of this was done with kindness, skill, and a deep sense of responsibility.”

Despite the language barrier (only the doctor who was from the U.S. spoke English that night), they communicated care in every gesture. They comforted us as much as they cared for Angelica.

That night changed me. As a parent, I felt the fragility of the moment and the strength of those who stood by us. I realized how critical it is for every community, no matter how remote, to have access to dedicated pediatric care. That’s why I became a donor soon after we returned home. I wanted to give back to the people who helped us when we needed it most, and to support the work they’re doing for so many other families who don’t have other options.

I continue to support Lao Friends Hospital for Children because I believe deeply in their mission. I’ve seen what they do. I’ve felt the impact. And if sharing our story encourages even one more person to donate, then it’s worth telling. Because this hospital isn’t just important, it’s essential.