This story fits a dramatic reality, experienced in the early days of the month of June 1989 and they are recorded in medical history N 191487 of the national hospital Almanzor Aguinaga Asenjo of EsSalud of Chiclayo. The clash around 9 the night of Sunday 04 of June l998 on the Km.689 of the Panamerican Highway, the VW driving towards Chiclayo where he worked as gynecologist was head-on by a jeep driven by drunken and drug addicts. The rescue was hooked in between twisted irons, with embedded in my abdomen, with the windshield shattered in my face Board and rudder, the lights were turned off, grew the cries everywhere then everything was silent, not lost the knowledge and I started to scream. My daughters!, my daughters!, he saw nothing, a strong pain shook my whole body, rudder pressure me choked, saw how the blood escaped by my broken femur, knew that he could die in minutes, closed my eyes and chose the easiest: let the shock Hjpovolemlco I would lead to death; but the cries of my Karinita returned me the value Pope, papito!, – screaming – it hurts Me, replied, and gave value to my already turned off voice; suddenly several trucks were stationed around the incident and people gave 3 unleash their solidarity and their misery, while some approached to help others looted the WV, stealing suitcases, money and gifts that my Natalie had received that day. Because it met its first anilo of saw. those lights allowed me to discover with horror that inert on the floor of the VW and its little body covered with blood and ground my adored Natalie de el Pilar was without tare, I screamed like crazy, crying and I stretched my hand prisoner and not reached it, a tall, burly gentleman approached won it with tenderness, he cleared it among their clothesmade him a cross on the forehead and kissed her, I looked, I pleaded, I screamed and I cried and I cried my little girl was dead! The good man was Marcial Jauregui, professional chauffeur of the Vulcan one rescued all my Seres queridos (my eternal gratitude for Marcial).