Those who cannot help themselves… A Blessing in disguise

Blessing. This is one of those words so often thrown around and used in various situations, but what does it really mean? I know I use it fairly frequently, but I don’t think I have ever stopped to think about its implications…until now. According to dictionary.com, one of the definitions for this word is, “A favor or gift bestowed by God, thereby bringing happiness.” I could not agree more with this definition having now come to the end of another week, as I have literally seen it come to life.

Being on the pediatric (or “paediatric” as they spell it here) ward this week definitely had a different dynamic than any of the other weeks we’ve spent here. First of all, the week started off unexpectedly because I had somewhat of a cold, so I actually stayed home Monday morning to sleep in and rest, while Alisha went to the hospital. I have to admit I hated having to miss out on a day of experiencing and learning new things, but it was good for me to take it easy…especially because the last thing I wanted to do was get one of the already immunocompromised children sick. Monday turned out not to be as relaxing as I’d imagined however, at least later the evening, because something happened that no one would have ever expected. A young man named Nathan, from a team that had just arrived from North Carolina that very morning, was climbing down from a tower at his compound, which proved to be unstable, and the structure fell on top of him breaking both his legs. He had an open fracture of his left femur, meaning the break had broken the skin, and a convoluted fracture of his right tibia (or “shin” bone). As soon as we found out he had been taken to Evangel, Alisha, Tim, Dan and I all went down to the “emergency room” to see what was going on and if we could help in any way. Nathan was only 15 years old, he had been in the country less than 12 hours, and having broken both his legs he was showing such incredible strength. To call him a “trooper” would be an understatement. Thankfully there was a doctor on the team who accompanied him to the hospital, along with his older sister Katie, and we all waited around as he got x-rays and the next course of action was decided.

God is so good, because it just happens that an orthopedic surgeon from the states was visiting and would be able to operate and externally stabilize Nathan’s injuries. He would have to be flown out of the country as soon as possible to receive further treatment, but Nathan was able to go into surgery that night. Also, although the surgeon had gastric enteritis and was somewhat “under the weather” (he actually had to receive an IV line to boost his fluids after completing the surgery), by the grace of God he was visiting when the accident happened…God’s timing is so great, I love it. To make along story short, a lot of planning, logistics, and craziness took place in the next 24 hours, but it ended up that the organization Nathan was with had evacuation insurance, so he was going to fly down to Johannesburg, South Africa, in an air ambulance. His dad would meet him there, he would receive the needed surgery to internally stabilize his injuries, and then he would return to the states after having some time to rest and heal. Praise be to God, we received word tonight that he was safely flown out, has received the necessary surgery, and is recovering well so far.

Amidst all the excitement and insanity of that accident, things in the hospital of course carried on as usual, and Alisha and I got to experience some of pediatrics, which might not have been what we expected…but God often chooses not work within the limits of our expectations. Having been in the hospital for about three full weeks now, I still can’t say I understand the whole doctor, nurse, patient, family relationship and interactions. We actually spent all of our time with the doctors this week, because the role of the nurses is quite different, and not necessarily good or bad, just different. In regards to pediatrics, the family (mostly the mother) does all the patient care, such as feeding, cleaning, caring for, etc., so really most of what the nurse does is monitoring vitals, IV drip rates, and documenting. Although this is all incredibly important to do, Alisha and I decided it would be better to stick with the doctors so we could learn and experience more of the assessments, diagnosis, treatment, and overall critical thinking regarding these young children. Our daily routine included going on rounds to review all the cases and assess the status and progress of each child, followed by time in the clinic. There are actually two different pediatric clinics, one is the PEPFAR (President’s Emergency Plan For AIDS Relief) clinic, which is funded by the initiative that Bush instigated to fight the HIV/AIDS pandemic. This is a place where children with the virus, or children born of parents who are infected, can come to receive antiretroviral treatment (ART) every other month. The other pediatric clinic is simply for follow-up appointments with patients who have been discharged from the hospital but need periodic check-ups. Generally, going through rounds and getting through all the patients waiting at the clinic takes up most of the day, so Alisha and I would normally leave shortly after clinic.

Since things in pediatrics were a little slower going than anticipated, we decided to make the most of our time by participating in some other outreaches outside of the hospital. The problem with outside ministries usually comes down to the fact that we don’t have transportation, but thankfully this week we asked to tag along with the team from North Carolina, and they were sweet enough to accommodate us. Due to this accommodation we were able to go back to Gidan Bege and Blind Town on Wednesday, which was once again an amazing experience. It was actually a little different this time because there were less medical people there, so Alisha and I got to do more than we had before. Starting out at Gidan Bege with the clinic for the widow’s ministry, we once again took blood pressures, did quick assessment, and administered needed medications. We were able to treat 41 women in the short time we were there, so that was exciting, and it is truly a wonderful feeling being a part of that ministry. Just like last time, we once again split into two groups to go into blind town, but Alisha and I split up this time, as we were really the only medial people present, and each went with one of the Nigerian women to one side of town. I actually ended up going to the same section that I went to the first time, but it turned out to be kind of fun because I got to see some of the same people, and they remembered me! Being in Blind Town for the second time, I was filled with the same feelings of satisfaction and peace, along with the unexplainable joy of watching and being a part of helping those who cannot help themselves…of seeing a need and meeting it, as simple as that.

We also got to go with the team from North Carolina on Thursday out to a village called Gyero. There is a ministry at Gyero (as well as at a place in the city called “Transition House”) for street boys. Once these boys spend anywhere from six months up to a year going through the program at Gidan Bege, in turn proving that they are committed to change and are not going to just run back to the streets, they either go to Gyero or Transition House to continue the program. The age-range of boys at Gyero was from about seven up to twenty years old, and the average boy stays for about ten years. Once this time is up, they are either sent to boarding school or are re-united with their families if possible. There are also girls at Gyero, but their numbers are a lot less, as it is not as common for girls to be on the streets. Gyero is a beautiful place out in the country and it was such a joy to see all the boys and girls there, to sing songs with them, walk around the village with them, talk with them, and climb up hills with them, which I probably should not have done wearing flip-flops…considering how slick the mud is after the rain, and how traction-less I knew my shoes were…let’s just say that was an interesting, and slightly humiliating experience. I had to have one of the local boys hold my hand and help me down, but I was still having trouble, so I ended up just taking my shoes off. So there I was, in a very ungraceful and unladylike way, sliding down the hill in my nice skirt and bare feet, while the rest of the team (who of course had already reached the bottom quite a while before me), watched from below…it was fabulous. Overall however, it was another incredible experience with another wonderful ministry that I know God is working through in mighty ways.

But back to the hospital…out of all the children we saw this week, and there were many, I am just going to focus on one. It is not that the other cases didn’t interest me or affect my outlook on life and medicine, but this little girl did so much more than that…she touched my heart. A recent admission at four weeks old, she was brought in with severe abdominal distention (swelling) and a persistent fever, which had been present for about a week. At the point when we were examining her with the doctors while on rounds, she had not passed stool in two days, she was bleeding out of her nasogastric tube, and the swelling of her abdomen was so bad that it was pushing up on her diaphragm causing her breathing to be more like gasping. After much discussion and observation it was decided that the “medical” aspect of her care had come to an end, as the medications she had been given were not helping her condition, so the doctors agreed her case needed to be transferred over to a “surgical” team. The problem however was that there was no official diagnosis for what was causing her condition, so the surgery would have to be exploratory, meaning the doctors would open up her abdomen to see what was going on inside and then try to fix whatever it was they found…a very dangerous procedure in this case.

There are some aspects of other people’s culture that I will never understand, and as much as a society progresses, things don’t just change overnight. I learned this the hard way as I found out that the reason this baby girl was in the hospital in the first place was because when she was just one week old, her mother took her to a “chemist” to receive “traditional medicine” according to her tribe’s customs. Most likely the baby was crying too much or something seemed wrong, so a “concoction” was made out of pepe (a very spicy seasoning) and other herbs for the mother to give to the little girl…which was basically poison. This drink was given for a week, and although told to continue giving it, the mother stopped because her baby was having watery stool. Shortly after that the baby got a fever, which went on for about a week before there were signs of abdominal distention, and THEN they brought the baby into the hospital. One of the sad things is that there was a woman in the village who said she had given this drink to all her children to “make them strong.” If they survived the treatment they were strong and if not they were weak, but really, those that survive end up having stunted growth and other problems later on, and those that didn’t survive…well, I was staring right at her.

Regardless of how she got to where she was, the doctors had to do everything in their power to deal with the current situation, which at that moment meant talking to the parents about surgery. It was essential that the parents fully understood the fact that their baby would die if they took her out of the hospital at that time without further treatment, but at the same time, the surgery was incredibly dangerous and there was no assurance of success. Once things were thoroughly explained to all family members present (which included the parents as well as the baby’s uncle), they were given some time to go outside and talk it over. When they came back in and the uncle said, “We are not satisfied with the surgery,” you could almost hear the hearts of everyone else in the room drop…I couldn’t believe it. He said they wanted to just take her out of the hospital and go back to their village. So, as the doctors once again explained the situation, reiterating the fact that she WOULD die if they did not go through with the surgery, I started praying. I asked the Lord to open up the minds of the parents to reason, I asked for healing of this little girl, just lying there helpless as the people around her determined her fate, and I prayed for understanding on my part as to why things had to be this way. What saddened as well as infuriated me even more was the fact that it was the uncle, not the mother or father, who seemed to be making this decision! It was obvious that the mother wanted to do whatever was necessary to help her baby girl, as she tried to hide her tears while listening to the baby gasp for breath.

After the second lecture from the doctors, the family once again stepped out of the room, and I continued praying…I wanted so much to just lay hands on that helpless little girl and call on the healing power of Jesus to restore her broken body, but instead I just continued to pray for the family to have a change of heart. Alisha and I actually had to leave the hospital for one of our outreaches before we were able to hear the family’s final decision, and although every ounce of me longed to know the outcome, I have to admit there was also a part of me that didn’t want to know. I couldn’t bear the thought of them deciding to take her out of the hospital and her dying before they even got to the front gate. This whole situation brought out so many feelings in me that all jumbled together: anger, disgust, sorrow, confusion, doubt, bitterness, and so much more. It’s easy to look at and blame the parents, but it’s so much more than that – it’s the culture, it’s a mindset, it’s the way of life, and it takes more than just one sick baby to change that.

It’s not that I question God, His goodness, His justice, and His perfect plan and control of everything in this life, but this type of situation does raise up some questions for me. Why would this baby girl come into this world to suffer for four weeks and then die, causing grief and pain to her family, the very people who stripped her of her right to possibly have a normal life and some day be a grown woman in the first place? It is so incomprehensible to me, because I know she is a child of God and that He created her and loves her more than I could ever fathom…but I also know that God knows our bodies inside and out, that He is the ultimate healer, and it would be no problem at all for Him to just reach down and heal her completely. However, despite all those things, there she was, lying there, dying at four weeks old.

Little did I know, this baby girl was actually “A favor or gift bestowed by God, thereby bringing happiness.” We got a phone call later that evening from one of the doctors assigned to the case, saying that the family had changed their minds and decided to go ahead with the surgery. There was still really not a definitive diagnosis once they opened her up, because they just found a lot of pus in the abdominal cavity, due to peritonitis, which they cleaned out and then closed her back up. Although after the surgery she was still somewhat gasping for air and her abdomen was slightly distended, there was definite improvement and a good chance for recovery. Praise God…He is so faithful, even when I am not. Even when I struggle with accepting and trusting in His infinite wisdom, strength, and power, He never ceases to amaze and humble me. After hanging up with the doctor and giving me all this good news, Alisha adds, “Oh yeah, and her name is Blessing.” I don’t know if hearts can smile, but at that moment, mine was.

I am now getting ready to enter into the week of being a “camp nurse” and I am truly looking forward to the experience. I don’t know how much it will grow me medically, but I do know that God is going to do great things, grow friendships with the other counselors, and teach me so much as I work with the kids and other staff members. I am praising God this week for healing my cold, revealing Himself to me through Blessing, and allowing me to be a part of the awesome ministries already taking place here in Nigeria.

PRAYER REQUESTS:
-That everyone at camp would stay healthy and there would be no serious injuries.
-Claudia, the camp director, has been very sick for the past few days, so all her work is being delegated to others, making everything a lot more stressful for the other leaders…so Claudia needs prayer for a quick recovery.
-That I would be a help and encouragement to everyone around me at camp.

The crew from Evangel...saying goodbye to Rachel.

Some of the street boys taken into Gidan Bege.

Wow, the kids all look so serious...

Going on a tour of Gyero.

The girls at Gyero sang a song for us...it was beautiful.

Gabriella...such a cutie!

Going on a little hike!

On top of a hill...such a gorgeous view.

Disgusting feet...and I don't think my shoes will ever be the same.

Blessing.