Thursday

Thursday, November 16

It threatens rain again this morning as we drive our now familiar route to clinic.  The protests of yesterday turn out to be no more than a fight between village members.  No police were called and it was over soon after it began.  I am grateful the leadership valued our safety enough to be insure it and yesterday, afterall, was an unexpected delight and blessing.

The verdant hills of the distance are a welcomed distraction from the muddy drabness of the city.  At the foot of the hills are acres of short palm trees ringed by fewer taller ones standing sentinel around them.  It reminds me of Feeding Hope, how the older ones surround and protect the little ones eagerly reaching for their potential.

It appears to be car wash day as we drive along the irrigation canals. We pass motorcycle after motorcycle shining as the light catches the glistening chrome.   

The pink, yellow and red lily pad like flowers flourish at the water’s edge and the goats of all sizes are finding their morning feasts.

Clinic begins with a lovely nine month old sweetie sweeter asleep in her father’s arms. He tells me that young Silvina pees all the time and it has a foul stench.  She is feverish and irritable when she is not asleep.  I take care to not wake her and treat her for what will turn out to be the diagnosis de jour again today.

Next, is two year old Wilvens who would just as soon scratch my eyes out as look at me. As I get close to exam him he reaches for my face with his long fingernails.  It is a complicated relationship but we manage to come to an understanding.  I tell him he is fierce and that quality will serve him well.  His father smiles.

Across the room I recognize the cry before I see the baby.  Bowden, from our first day, is back.  He is breathing more evenly with a more effective suck and is lying contentedly in his aunt’s arms. After much deliberation among the team, it seems evident that this darling has some underlying issues that will not be easy to treat and probably will not be cured.

When 13 year old Yguet (pronounced Egay) comes to me, he tells me he has sores in his mouth that bleed.  He is unable to close his mouth because of them and I see that there are lesions that intertwine with his teeth and tongue.  He had surgery before he could remember and had a tumor removed.  He bears the scars on his face and neck.  I recognize immediately that this is out of my scope and I take him to Dr. Greg.

Cases like these two cause me to dig deep.  They remind me of my struggle with my Mother-in-law Lettie whom I had the privilege to care for at the end of her life.  It is not easy to be powerless in the presence of suffering. It is heart rending.  It is also a time to realize I am not powerless.  The words of a Mercy Me song sum it up:  “I know You are able.  I know that You care.  You can bring me safely through the fire with Your mighty hand… BUT even if You don’t, My hope is in You alone.”  If I cannot trust Him in times like these, why would I bother to trust Him at all?  He is able to accomplish what concerns me today. Well,  Bowden and Yguet are my concern so I lift them up to the only Power that can truly heal what matters most and I continue to do what He has made me to do as I power on.

One of my last patients of the day is a 9 month pregnant Mama, Ylenia.  She is beautiful, tall and thin with her round belly, ready to pop.  I invite her to deliver here and now and she smiles.  She is here because she was due on Nov 9 and wonders why the baby lingers.  She is tolerating pregnancy well and really is the picture of health. I reassure her that babies come when they are ready and not to worry.  She will need all her strength when the day comes.  She allows me to pray for her and her baby as I lay my hand on her belly and take her other hand in mine.  It is a beautiful, life affirming moment to remind me of  Whose hands we are in.

Whose handsWhose hands we are in.