Saddest case of the mission so far

During a very busy clinic day, this Father approached our intake station with his daughter in a wheel chair. He provided no invitation letter but just pleaded for his daughter just to be seen by our medical team. As we would never turn down someone in need, we accepted this patient and started the initial work-up. She is a pleasant 14-year old girl, who is very much like any adolescent from the neck up. But thats where the similarities and normalities for this child ends.
She was born normal, however, when she was 3 years old, she had some difficulty walking and her parents brought her to a doctor. The doctor injected something into her lower back and within days, she lost all function of her lower extremities. Over time she has been confined to a wheelchair. With the combination of no motor function and very poor posture in the chair, her body has grown into a dramatic shape.
Her spine is so distorted that while sitting in the wheelchair, one can barely make out the natural direction of her spinal column. She has lost most of her motor function from waist to feet, although she can still wiggle her toes and partially move her arms. Her torso is so compressed that if she continues down this path, dangerous complications such as collapsed lungs and dysfunctional gastrointestinal system will eventually develop.
Our plan is to manipulate her spine to physically attempt to straighten her. We will assist to develop a brace so when she sits in her wheelchair, she can be held up more straight. There is no chance for recovery, but without attempting to fix her posture, she will certainly die an early death.
As everyone filed into the room to watch this girl get treated, taking pictures etc... I looked into her eyes and saw fear and embarrassment. At that point I stopped with the medical assistance and just bent down and held her hand. I hoped that by holding her hand and looking into her eyes with care and compassion, that she would feel less fear, less embarrassed, and more human.
I watched as her tears fell, then dried up, and a slight smile of thank you for just being there to make her feel safe come across her face.
Allowing my tears to flow would have not helped the situation at all, thus I fought hard to hold back my emotions. It wasn't until her treatment was over that I removed myself from clinic and found a quiet alone place to reflect.
Even with our help, she will never live a normal young girls life. All I hope is that she can live knowing that people care about her, no matter what we look like or where we come from.