After a restless night of revisiting past dreams and being visited by Montezuma, I awaken feeling stronger but hesitant to commit to all in at clinic. Somehow I know that when I am busy seeing patients my hesitations will fall away so I decide to fake it til I make it and it works.
We hold clinic today in the open air courtyard of one of the hospital buildings. It is a short ride from our guesthouse. I think I understand that Dr. Frank runs the place. He was on hand for the birth yesterday and he is to be my go to for issues above my pay grade. He is a young, handsome man with a soft spirit and a warm, welcoming smile. Upon my arrival he introduces himself to me having noticed I am new today. I feel instantly seen and valued. It is a lovely beginning.
I begin with Sam as my interpreter. He is attentive and gentle but soon replaces himself out of sensitivity for the parade of female patients who would rather not share through him. Rachel becomes my gift. She is 21 yo darling who is kind, positive and very effective. We spend the day busy to the end.
Many of our girls have urinary tract infections which incidentally is one of my superpowers of late. My patients come in their colorfully patterned traditional shukas. Their faces are unreadable until their names are spoken. Smiles transform their quiet beauty to brilliance.
I am called on to start a baby IV. As her providers, Dr. Frank among them, discuss how to proceed, I spend my time trying to win her allegiance and her tranquility. Her mama appears to trust me immediately as she joins me in my quest. I sing to our baby and rub her back. I make a balloon out of a glove. She is secure in her mother’s arms but still refuses to be comforted. When the time arrives to look for an IV site, she continues to cry but gives me no resistance. In the nick of time, Dr. Frank decides to give the medicine another way and I am released back into the wild.
Among my favorite patients, who are not the babies ;), are the somewhat ancient Maasai warriors proving age can be a state of mind. Isaya is 96. He is a towering man in his red plaid warrior threads and has a large knife tied to his right hip. He has left his chief’s staff at the door, I notice later. His ears show the traditional large, stretched holes in the earlobe and his cheeks bear the mark of the Maasai. These marks are made on their cheeks when they are about 7 years old and this is how they recognize each other. He is missing the center bottom incisor as well.
He comes to me later in the day but any hint of my fatigue is completely forgotten when he smiles at me and takes my hands in his as I greet him with Jambo! Jambo is Swahili and not Maasai but he allows me my ignorance. He has the low pulse and blood pressure of an athlete and is pleased when I tell him this. He has walked 3 km to come here and his only complaint is an aching back and eye fatigue from the sun. He is a role model for us all.
There is an 80 year old grandmother who has brought her son’s two little ones. She is a tiny woman though obviously large in the eyes of the kids. They cling to her in trusting expectation and the trio is my sweetness and light.
There are so many simple, invigorating aspects to this day. Though I started with hesitation, I end with renewed confidence. I have been called, equipped and covered with the generosity, kindness and gratitude of all those who have been sent to me as I have been sent to them. It is the lovely twirling dance designed by God, Himself. For God so loved the world that He gaveā¦and in giving and receiving, I honor Him.
TanzaniAnne
Tripping with God: Stories of Faith and Inspiration 