Photographers Blog

In the weeks after the mass shooting in Arizona in early January, the question in newsrooms and kitchens alike was: How long would it take Gabrielle Giffords to recover and could she ever hope to return to work in the U.S. Congress?

Never mind that she had survived a gunshot to her head at point blank range, we still wanted to know: How long? Six to nine months? Eight to 10 weeks? Years?

These were the same questions asked during my own medical crisis some 20 years earlier. I remember waking up in an emergency room and hearing talk of seizures (seven) and a brain tumor. Subsequent MRI & CT scans would confirm a tennis ball-sized mass.

The how long questions and answers I heard in the days that followed were hard to swallow. Among them one stands out: Six months to a year and a half was the answer. The question was not about recovery time but how long I could expect to live. The consensus by several doctors was the tumor was malignant.

People involved in traumatic events like that day in Tucson often speak of how things unfold in slow motion. That day in the hospital was no different for me. As a neurologist broke the news, it became very quiet. Even as he continued to speak, quiet. I didn’t cry, I didn’t say a word.

A year after the Haiti earthquake killed about 250,000 people and left more than a million homeless, a major multimedia documentary by Thomson Reuters Foundation takes viewers to the streets and tent cities of the shattered capital.

From the homeless schoolgirl who studies science by candlelight to the doctor who built a makeshift operating theatre in the ruins of a hospital, One Day in Port-au-Prince tells stories of resilience, ingenuity and courage.

We’d like to add the experience of Reuters readers. Perhaps you were directly involved, or maybe someone you know. Perhaps the catastrophe moved you to respond in a special way.

Photographer Damir Sagolj presents a multimedia look at a hospice for those dying of AIDS at a Buddhist temple Wat Prabat Nampu in Lopburi, Thailand.

Who, in the world of photography in Reuters, doesn’t know someone suffering from Alzheimer’s disease? Who doesn’t know and feel the suffering of their closest relatives when they are facing this disease? It must be even more difficult for the eldest, who are used to seeing people suffering from cancer or strokes but do not understand this disease, and start to panic.

Recently, I made contact with the Portuguese Alzheimer Association to talk with them about the disease. A week after I contacted them I met with two women, Brazilian therapist Claudia Zolini and Portuguese therapist Margarida Matos. I started talking to them about my personal experience with this disease, telling them how my godmother, who died in March, suffered from Alzheimer’s. I told them how, when the first signs of her disease showed up years ago, I would laugh at her little mistakes – until the moment came when I had to face the real evidence of this illness, that I could not fully understand. I told them that suddenly I had to become a psychologist for my mother, who by then was in a panic, fearing that she would also suffer from Alzheimer’s. She could understand many different types of diseases but not this one. She suffered in a way that only she can tell.

After recounting my story, the two aid workers told me they would help in any way they could. My godmother had an income, and with the assistance of the estate she could afford to be in a facility where she was helped. But I wanted to know what happens to low income families, who cannot afford to send their relatives to nursing homes. I felt that would create a bigger impact. The aid workers asked me: What do you mean bigger impact? I answered, the bigger the impact for me and the bigger it will be for society. They kept asking questions, in particular, if the photos would be used in the right way by the newspapers. I stayed silent after this question. I then answered, if they don’t use it wisely, they are not human.

(Click here for an emeddable version of the video)

The Remote Area Medical Volunteer Corp (RAM) is a non-profit organization that provides free health care, dental care and eye care in remote areas of the United States and the world since 1985. Volunteer doctors, nurses and support workers provide the care at their own expense and the medical supplies, medicines, facilities and vehicles are all donated by supporters.

From July 24-26, I attended the RAM event at the Wise County Fairgrounds in Wise, Virginia. The area is in the Appalachian Mountain region bordering Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina.

People received numbers and started lining up to enter the health clinic around 4 a.m.