His house was disheveled and well off the road and seemed to be slowly melting into the creek that ran in front of it. It was the second day of the two-week data collection period of my research into the Costa Rican healthcare system.

As I stared at the ceiling from my hospital bed, the pitter-patter of my IV drip breaking the silence of the night shift, my thoughts dwelled on the infection that had swept me off my feet.

“Who is your role model?”

“My daddy. I want to be with him, but I can’t.”

I sat on the floor with a sweetly brave six-year-old boy - our arms around each other, and tears flowing down our faces.