Just a
forewarning, this is a long one. :/
I have gone to work in the clinic
every day since my first. I go prepared now, with scrubs and stethoscope. There
is slightly more order established now to the clinic visits, but only slightly.
There is a group of older boys in our program that can speak more English than
I can Amharic, and serve as my translators and aids when my hands are full.
They bar the door and only allow one patient in at a time, which helps
significantly. I have seen numerous infections, insect bites, and coughs. Most
every other patient complains of gastric problems. I mostly blame the Ethiopian
diet, which is very spicy and acidic. Pepto-Bismol and Tums are my best friends
here.
Thursday, I opened the van door and
was greeted by Kari Smalley Gibson, who is known here as Mama Kiki. She
squealed with delight at my arrival, and immediately grabbed my arm and dragged
me toward the clinic. She told me along the way that a very famous man named
Kassa had been waiting for me to come all morning. A child helped me rummage in
my bag for my key, I unlocked the door and was pushed into my seat. A grinning
older man hobbled in the door with the aid of a cane made from a metal pole. He
sat in the patient chair and said, “Hakim! (Doctor!)” Kari explained that he
was from the countryside and contracted leprosy. The disease causes loss of
sensation in the extremities, and he therefore was unaware of the wounds on his
feet. They became massively infected, and with no treatment, much of the flesh
on his feet died. Because the wound is healed now, Kari said the teams before
have simply wrapped his stubs to form a boot so it is less painful for him to
walk. Kassa and I exchanged three kisses of the traditional greeting, and I
washed and wrapped his feet. His toes are gone. There are remnants of the tops
of some of them on one foot, but are mostly unrecognizable. He thanked me
repeatedly, blessed me, and limped out the door, smiling hard with all the
teeth in his mouth (which don’t amount to very many). I love my job. “The least
of these,” I thought to myself. “How very precious in His sight.”
Friday, I escorted a mother and her child to a
large hospital in the city. The child’s name is Abraham, and he is two years
old. He has Down’s Syndrome, microcephalus, and heart defects. We moved from
bench to bench in the hospital, for no process is simple in Ethiopia. We
eventually reached the doctor. He told me the baby had a Ventricular Septal
Defect and Patent Ductus Arteriosis, and would most certainly need open heart
surgery. He wrote me a reference for the Black Lion Hospital where there is a
cardiac centre. I have never been to the Black Lion, but I have heard terrible
things about it…such as…people go there to die. It is known as the most
unsanitary, disorganized, frightening hospital in the city. He also gave me
little reason to believe that they would take a child in for surgery anyway. We
discussed the possibility of him getting a sponsor to have the surgery in
America, which the doctor agreed a favorable option. Abraham and his mother are
members of another ministry called Hope for Korah, which focuses on family
needs and sponsorships. I contacted their sponsor and explained the situation.
She responded almost immediately. The surgery is already paid for, and there
are two options for a hospital that may perform it. One is in Texas, and the
other in Kenya. Please pray that God will make it clear which hospital should
be chosen, that He will provide an escort for Abraham, and that He will give
peace and understanding to his adoring mother as we explain the seriousness of
her baby’s situation. I will keep updates on his story.
Sunday morning, we arose before the
dawn cracked and rolled into our van. With our hoods up and our headphones
plugging our ears with music, we drove four and half hours into the countryside
of Shashamene. It is time to register the children for school. There are 25 new
children attending this school this year, and there is paperwork to complete
for the other 220 of them. The plan was to go on Sunday so everyone could relax
for the day and get up early for a full day of paperwork on Monday. Monday
morning came and we were in the office. A meeting was held with Pastor Haile
(the school director) first, discussing was a second chance for some children
that had been dismissed for behavior issues. The decision was in their favor,
and they were readmitted to the program. Next was the stack of paperwork. They
needed to make copies of the registration forms, and fill them out.
“Oh no,” said Pastor Haile. “There
is no light. Electric is down. We cannot make copies today. Come back on
Wednesday.”
And that was all. Everyone piled
into the car and drove back. This is one of those examples of Ethiopia’s
precious little concept of efficiency. It made no difference that we had driven
four and a half hours to get there. They had not made any copies of the
registration forms, (although Monday happened to be registration day). Deep
sigh. What can be done? So…Wednesday we’ll do it again. J
I could not help with the paperwork, so
earlier in the day, Getinet (Dundee), a friend of mine who was also visiting
the area, came and picked up Wynne (another American staying with us who is
here adopting) and me. He took us to a place called Wondo Ganat, a beautiful
tourist attraction with hot springs, baboons, and hiking. A young self
appointed tour guide led us through the trails, over rivers, up hills, and down
small ravines (They were small, Daddy). I didn’t come prepared for a hike, and
was wearing clumsy sandals. It may not come as a surprise to most of you that I
peeled them off and hiked it barefoot, much to the dismay of every Ethiopian present.
Towards the end of the hike I was walking down the road, still carrying my
sandals. Getinet turned to me and said,
“You know, in the Orthodox
tradition, this is like a sign. You ask God for something and say, ‘God, if you
do this thing for me, I will walk without my shoes.’ So now you walk barefooted
and it is like God has done something for you.”
I smiled deeply at the thought of
that. God has done so many things for me. I have been richly blessed, and He
continues to amaze me with His ever-sustaining goodness. A humble and beautiful
reminder. Maybe I ought to always go barefoot…..
