Paper People.

A shadow of a waif that once was a woman, she wore her dress like a tent. It hung awkwardly on knobby shoulder, attached to rail thin arms. And in those arms, a tiny stick version of a child peaked out at me.

Six months ago, Amon started coughing and couldn’t stop. It got so bad, she explained, that blood came out at times. Each coughing fit shook her slender frame; Wet, deep hacks that bent her in half.         --Tuberculosis.

As I lifted the blanket and touched her baby’s skin, my hand burned with fever. Skin-and-bones set on fire, he weighed just 1.9 kg (4.2 lbs).          --Lord...?

But that was just half the problem. She also reported her uterus was coming out?     --What?

Tom and Benedict took the baby and started an NG tube (naso-gastric tube) to give the child some food and medicine, and Sarah and I took Amon to another room. I had to see for myself what she meant by her ‘uterus coming out’.

Was it prolapsed or inverted? No... it couldn’t be inverted. She’d be in shock... or dead. Right?

She moved with speed but obvious pain. Once on the bed I was able to see the full extent of the protrusion; a third of her uterus was visible. White with a fibrous brown-red patch near one end, it left no doubt; it had prolapsed.        

-- Amon, I need to understand. How long has your uterus been out like this?
-- It happens each time I deliver. It comes out after the baby, I go to the hospital, and the doctor puts it back in.
-- And the coughing?
-- Oh, it’s been six months.
-- And the fever?
-- Since the birth.
-- When was that, exactly?
-- Last month.
-- Last month? Why are you just coming now then?
-- My husband was caring for the cattle. I couldn’t come without him.

Her husband sat in silence as we moved between the rooms starting IVs and taking vitals. He looked like a normal person, thin but strong. But his wife and child looked like paper people --edges torn and wrinkled.

I guess I could have attempted to re-position her uterus. But I’m not ready to do that mentally. I’m not ready to cause her the pain. She’s sick but stable. They are able to make it to Wau; and I’m okay sending them there.

Please pray for them both. Pray for Amon’s tuberculosis and prolapsed uterus. Pray for their son, Dhuony. He’s getting food now, pray that he would survive this month of wasting fevers and pain. 



Post Script: As I finished this post, Tom knocked on my door to tell me the baby had died and they wanted to take Amon home. Her husband explained that he’d bring Amon back tomorrow for the procedure, but tonight she must attend the funeral.

How could I argue? She had waited a month; what was one night going to change? So I prayed for them, then watched them walk out with their precious paper child.

It’s hard for me to understand the nuances of life here. I confess, obligations and protocol surprise me almost daily. Was it truly impossible for her to come without her husband? Did she really have no other choice? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Please pray she comes back in the morning. Now that there is little chance she’ll go to Wau, I’m ready to try and re-insert her uterus. Pray that it goes well and she’s able to seek treatment for her TB soon. Thanks. 
 
 


Tuberculosis of the Spine.

Last summer, I went to ask Dennis a question while he was treating a young girl. At first sight of her, I forgot my question momentarily and just stared. It was rude, I’m sure, but I’d never seen anything like her.

She was very sick, and she knew it.

Enlarged lymph nodes on her neck restricted her breathing, and large nob protruded from her back at a right angle, causing her to bend unnaturally forward. Plus, she was emaciated; a shell of skin with no substance.

Thin, weak and hunched over, she looked more like a wheezing hermit crab than a little girl.

Equally curious and horrified, I asked what was wrong with her. Dennis showed me her back and neck while explaining she had tuberculosis of the spine.

Fortunately, a Catholic charity in town runs a clinic that tests for HIV and tuberculosis. Dennis referred her to them for treatment.

Over these last few months, I’ve thought and prayed for her often. She was too small to be so sick. The image of her face and hump wouldn’t leave me alone. So, when she came in this week for some minor aches and pains, I was overjoyed!

I didn’t recognize her at first; her mother had to point out the nob on her back and I had to review her book before I connected the waif of last year as the girl before me.

She was vibrant and healthy, even dancing to music while waiting in line. I couldn’t believe how drastically she had changed!

Sure, the hunch is still there (I’m told her back will never grow normally again), but the vacant stare of death is gone. She smiled so sweetly during her examination, moving her neck with ease as I examined her lymph nodes (which are still enlarged but improved). I loved it.

Just thought you would all like to know her story. Pray for her as the Lord leads. Thanks.

Left to die.

This week a woman was brought to our clinic. She was very ill and had been that way for quite some time. She was in shock when she arrived -- not having eaten in days and suffering from severe diarrhea. She hadn’t been cleaned in ages and was basically skin and bones.

What was most unusual was she had no care taker. They came and dropped her off then ran away. We stabilized her and treated her for severe intestinal problems... but she needed more help than we could offer. She needed to be tested for tuberculosis as well as for HIV but no one was there to take her to the other clinic.

So once she was stable, we took her to Don Bosco ourselves. It specializes in TB and HIV patients. But they were closed for the day. Meanwhile, we tracked down the man who drove her to the clinic and found her family.

They were rumored to be skipping town the following day because they didn’t want to deal with her anymore. So we took her to them in the middle of the night.

I’m told that the family was furious that we gave her back after treating her. They argued and made a fuss. Imagine that!

They had left her for dead on our doorstep. They wanted her to die. We kept her alive. They were angry.

This woman is somebody’s mother. She is somebody’s child. She is precious in God’s eyes... but not her family’s.

Tuberculosis...

This last week, I peeked in on Dennis to ask him about something. What I saw was very unusual. A young boy lay twisted on the bed, crunched a little with a protruding bump on the center of his spine. When he sat up, Dennis showed me two very enlarged lymph nodes. He was struggling for breath because of the pressure they placed on his airway. He was small for his age and looked very unhappy. He knew he was sick...

I had never seen anything like it. Dennis explained that he had tuberculosis of the spine. He added this was the first case he’s seen in the year and a half he’s been here and that it was well advanced. We had no choice but to refer him to Wau. The mother seemed to appreciate the gravity of the disease. I can only pray she went.