"What are you doing for others?"

Today's experience was hopefully the first of many. 

As a nurse, my primary section here at the hospital is working MedSurg. For those who don't speak "Nurse" this means that I work with sick patients and those who are going to go into or have just come out of surgery. In a sense, they are "easy" because they have something wrong with them that I have to help fix (disease or operated wound). The hospital where I work at (here) is a hospital that specializes in working with people affected by Leprosy - a disease considered in many parts of the world to be eradicated. It has two wards: MedSurg and long-term Hansen (aka. Leprosy). 

This morning I headed over to our long-term Hansen ward to learn how to do wound care. In our MedSurg ward I have seen my fair share of wounds, but because of the specific nature of my job, I don't do a lot of the deep wound care. The wounds that people affected by Leprosy have are special wounds. Most of the time they are so deep and extensive that they require grafting and occasional debridement (basically, stripping of the bad parts of the wound). They can smell bad and look mangled and gruesome. 

First off, at 9:30 every day, the patients are wheeled into the Foot Wash room and they set their wounded feet into warm salted water for 20 minutes. They take off their own bandages (or sometimes with the help of their family assistant) and gently clean their wounds. After the soaking they cover their feet with vaseline (Petroleum Jelly) and head over to the Wound Care room. 

I have had a quick peek of the patients in the Foot Wash room and I am already surprised by their wounds. It's my first day and I want to make the patients feel a welcoming spirit and not one of disgust. I have already been praying through the night for this moment. 

I gown myself and head over to meet those who have finished their foot wash in the Wound Care room. 

The first man has an enormous smile on his face and directly tells me that he wants ME to do his wound care because his wounds will certainly heal faster with my lovely touch (Gah!). I banter with him and take my place at his feet and to the side of the male nurse who is teaching me. The man has half a toe... That's it... 9 1/2 of his toes are gone. I watch the male nurse as he uses a new gillette to shave off the calluses around his open wounds. The wounds will heal better if there is tender skin around it to help it close. I flinch every once in a while, as I am unaccustomed to the patient's insensitivity to pain. It should hurt. But it doesn't. That's what Leprosy is like.  

Next up, and my first, is a 70 year old lady who doesn't have nor has had Leprosy. She has an enormous (diabetic) ulcer that won't close on her leg. I can plainly see a necrotic tendon and perhaps also a bit of bone peeking out. I'm not sure. But because she doesn't have Leprosy, every time I touch her… It hurts. She flinches and pulls back and I'm only wiping her gently with Simple Saline and a small gauze. I encourage her, chit-chatting - trying my best to distract her from my work. I can see tears in her eyes and am amazed that she hasn't cried out already. I realize that she is most likely accustomed to this and her tolerance is already heightened. Just, wow. 

Call it gross. Call it nasty. Call it whatever you want to call it. 

Everyone has a heart for something. Your heart (or your stomach) might not lead you towards the kind of work that I do. But, with an honest self-examination you'll find yourself inclined in some direction. I feel blessed when I can help my special patients. 

Interestingly, there's quite a bit of irony in all this bit of doing things for others. You give and give… But it doesn't matter how much you give, you always get something back. You will never be able to empty yourself. 

In the words of MLK: What are you doing for others? 

Need an idea of something small you can do to start? Create awareness! Check out The Leprosy Mission UK's Feet First initiative. No money donation needed (if you don't want). Just a cool 24hr challenge. 

Waiting…

It's 5:00pm on a Sunday afternoon and I am on the floor. I have at my charge 2 clinical patients and 1 post-surgical. One of the three is giving me a run for my money. His O2Sat keeps dipping and I am forced to check on him every 15 minutes to make sure nothing worse happens. I have tried taking him off of oxygen two times, but apparently he literally can't live without it. By 5pm he has started to stabilize and I finally have a moment to breathe.

As is my custom, I move over to the side window of the Nurse's station from which I can see out into the main courtyard of the hospital. I see people arriving. I keenly observe them, trying to figure out what their emergency could be - because I am also in charge of the ER during my shift. They are carrying brimming feed sacks, like those 25kg ones filled with chicken feed, and travel bags. At this point it's only two of them and they don't seem to be in a hurry to get medical attention. In fact, they head over the the waiting area, put down their bags, and proceed to prepare tereré (a national communal tea prepared with loose-leaf herbs and drunk through a metal, filtered straw). I am about to go out to them to see if there is anything I can help them with, when the hospital guard walks into my Station. I simply ask him about the new arrivals.

"They are here for tomorrow. They've taken a number and are going to wait their turn for the morning consultation hours. Some of them have been traveling all day to get here."

I had heard about patients such as these, but hadn't had the opportunity to see them for myself.  For some reason, I had stored these stories in a mental box of ancient history. It's one of those stories that is told in churches about how things were in the "old days" when people would walk for kilometers and travel cross-country to make it to the mission hospital; arriving bedraggled and exhausted. But this was just yesterday evening, May 25, 2015. The "old days" were staring me in the eye.

Lost in thought, I don't immediately notice the on-call Doctor walk in. He walks up behind me next to the window to see what I am looking at and looks at me quizzically.

"Why do they come so early?" I ask him. The question is basic, but my interest drives deeper. He doesn't disappoint me with his straightforward answer. I insist.

"It costs 60.000 ($12US) for an ER consult at the hospital and 40.000 ($8US) for normal hours. Why would they go through all this inconvenience and discomfort just for 20.000 ($4US)? Why not just pay the extra and go home?"

I can see the doctor's gaze glaze over and can sense a long answer is being processed. Thus, I take a seat.

"This hospital is well-known to a lot of people. The efforts of those who came before us, going out deep into the interior of the country, seeking out patients and offering them hope and healing has poured over into today. These simple people have heard the success stories from their neighbors, uncles, aunts, friends, friends of friends of how they came to km81 and were healed. Many of them have been screwed over so many times by their local health services and are tired of it all. They are willing to travel for days just to get treated fairly and by good doctors who will fix them up. I have heard it said by humble people (el campesino) that the eucalyptus trees that line the entrance of this hospital filter the evil and sickness. Just by entering this place, your healing begins. Then they get here to us and are received with such enthusiasm and love and care, and another part of them feels healed. All this happens even before they speak a single word to a doctor! Sometimes we are able to fix their problems, sometimes we aren't. But, nonetheless, we take the time to listen to them and to appreciate them as a whole. Sometimes the patient just wants someone to listen to them. And thus the legacy continues… Getting back to your question: They come because they know that there is hope, blessing and healing at this hospital. And they want that."

I was speechless and so moved by his words. I could literally feel God's invisible presence stroking my arm encouragingly as if saying, "I am here. These are my people. This is MY work."

I didn't want to forget this moment and so I stood up, left the Station and inconspicuously put my cell phone on camera mode.

There they are. 

Some of them are sleeping already, while others sit around chatting. All of them waiting... to receive hope, blessing and healing. 

I just gotta say that I love being a part of it all  <3 p="">

Foz de Iguazu

Esta semana Mathias y yo fuimos invitados para acompanar a un grupo de alemanes a visitar las cataratas en Argentina. Fue una experiencia inolvidable. 


Eramos 11 en total los que viajamos juntos: 2 de Paraguay (yo & Mathias), 1 de Holanda & 8 de Alemania. Entre los Alemanes iban 3 ninos de 10-16 anhos, con sus padres. 


El dia martes entramos al parque para ver las renombradas cataratas. Gracias a la curiosidad de los extranjeros, vivimos todo el parque de iguazu. Todo lo querian ver & experimentas. A parte de caminar por los muchos senderos que rodean las cataratas, tb quisieron ver las cataratas de cerca - en barco. Fue asi que los alemanes nos invitaron a un viaje en barco por las cataratas. 


Era relativamente temprano en la manana y no habian muchos otros turistas para esperar fila. Enseguida pudimos entrar en una lanchita. Recuerdo bajando las rocas hacia el rio y viendo la pila de chalecos salva vidas. No pude evitar sentir un presentimiento escalofriante al recordar la escena tragica del Titanic. Vendria yo tb a mi fin?? Me obligue a pensar positivamente & me puse el chaleco que me pasaron los asistentes de barco. 




Entramos todos al barco & zarpamos. Lentamente el panico cedio & crecio la emocion por lo que estaba viviendo. Era una manana divina - el clima calido, pero fresco. El agua tranquilo. Navegamos por unos 10 minutos sin ver las cataratas. De repente aparecieron frente a nosotros. De lejos aparentaban igual como las ultimas 20 veces que las habre visto en mi vida. Asombrosas, pero conocidas. Pero la intencion de la aventura en el barquito no era observar las aguas de lejos. Cada vez nos acercabamos mas. El capitan del barco jugaba con nosotros inclinando el barco de un lado a otro provocando gritos de emocion. y luego... la experiencia que conmovio mi vida... 


Hasta ese momento venia orando inconcientemente por seguridad & tranquilidad de mi temor. El panico no pude enterrarla con mucha profundidad... y cada tanto se hacia recordar. Sin aviso, senti una ola fina de lluvia pegar mi rostro. Reaccione primeramente con temor y cerre mis ojos... pero al no parar la lluvia, lentamente fui acostumbrandome & pude abrir mis ojos para ver lo que sucedia a mi alrededor. No podia ver mucho ya que era como estar dentro de una nube que llovia. El sonido tb era singlar... dificil de describir. Era fuerte como el sonido del agua que caer de una canilla abierta; solamente magnificado a millon porciento. Podia sentir la vibracion de la fuerza de la caida del agua debajo mio y hasta dentro del aire mismo! Me senti envuelta. 

Y es aqui que llego a recordar mis pensamientos exactos al llegar a la base de esta catarata poderosa que me envuelve.  


Del himno conocido....


    "cuan gloriosa es la puesta del sol, admirable cual amanecer... Pero es mas grandioso y conmovedor el amor que nos tiene el Señor. Maravilloso es!"


Las palabras del himno surgieron primeramente como un susurro que tranquilizaba mi ser dentro de mi subconsciencia. No recuerdo haberla escogido ni buscado! Despues de estarla cantando en mi mente unas cuantas veces, subio a mi consciencia & pude prestar atencion a la letra que bailaba en mi cabeza.




De repente me di cuenta que el agua que corria por mi cara no era fria. Eran lagrimas. Alli estaba en una lanchita insignificante y minuscula a poquisimos metros de la base de una de las cataratas que formaba parte del conjunto de cataratas mas grandes del mundo. Era enorme. Y recordaba la letra de este himno... Es AUN MAS grandioso y AUN MAS conmovedor el amor de mi Dios para mi. Les juro que hasta ese momento en mi vida nunca habia estado en la presencia de algo tan enorme con el cual podria compararle a Dios...  Algo 'semejante' en grandeza.  Y poder saberlo... creerlo... Desde el fondo de mi corazon que Dios es AUN MAS!!! Es inmedible y tan grandioso y tan fuerte el amor que tiene Dios para mi.

Agradezco de todo corazon la generosidad de este grupo de alemanes que nos hicieron parte de su grupo para ir a presenciar esta maravilla. Fue y sigue siendo una experiencia inolvidable.