Yesterday, I saw a mother pushing her small son into the Clinic in a wheelbarrow. The little boy (maybe 8 years?) had his knee wrapped up, and couldn't put any weight on it at all. My first thought was "I hope they don't get turned away because it's so late in the day (2pm)." This then led me to ask myself, "When did it become acceptable to see little children pushed around in wheelbarrows?" Then I questioned when it became acceptable to turn down medical care to so many people each day.
None of it is okay. And I don't know what to do about it.
What can I do when only one of our four nurses can come to work? What can I do when patients wait all day to see the doctor (who comes two days a week), only to be sent home at the end of the day?
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I'm not a nurse. I'm sorry I'm not a doctor. I'm sorry my area of expertise is filing patient's records and medications (four years library experience is good for something). I'm sorry the only things I'm allowed to do are pre-pack pills, stock shelves, file, answer the phone, and que (line) up the patients waiting to be seen by the doctor. I'm sorry.
Yesterday, we received 49 boxes of stock. My shoulders are still sore. But it's such a blessing that it all came, because we (the Clinic) have been out of very basic things (such as - Tylenol, children's cough suppressant, large gauss pads, and strong pain relievers) for over 3 weeks. The South African government does not seem to have a free, public health clinic at the top of it's list of priorities. But that's just my opinion, and may, or may not be the case.
Each day before walking inside the Clinic, Brittany and I pray. A short list of the things we lift up to God is as follows -
We pray for unity among the Clinic's staff.
We pray against the spirit of darkness and of gossip in the Clinic.
We pray for an atmosphere of light and hope.
We lift up the patients, and ask a special blessing for everyone who comes to the Clinic seeking medical care.
We ask God to be with us.
We pray that we would take the opportunity to witness.
We pray that everyone who looks at us would see Him, and not us.
We pray for courage.
We thank God for the privilege to serve Him in the Clinic.
I guess we spend a long time in prayer each morning, and since I'm about to run out of internet time, I will have to cut the list short.
Have I told you about Auntie Matilda? Shame on me, for withholding the joy that comes from knowing her. Auntie Matilda is a 60 yr old little lady, who is like the Mother Theresa of her community. She worked at the Clinic for many years, caring for the patients, and making sure that they were taking their proscribed meds. You'll still find her out in the community making sure that bed ridden patients are getting the care they need.
I love going to spend the afternoon with her. And I'm going to go out on a limb and say the feeling is mutual. Matilda will tell us (Brittany and I) stories all day if we had the time (and didn't have to be out of the townships by 5pm).
Anyway, I just wanted you to know about Auntie Matilda. She is a light in her community, and ministers to my soul. Who knew that so much love could be contained inside such a compact package?
Yesterday, Brittany, Matilda and I wiled away the afternoon, reading Bible verses in her version of the Bible, and then in ours. It's very entertaining, not only to hear the different interpolations of the same word/phase/etc., but also to hear Auntie Matilda's Afrikaans accent. She gave us both kisses and hugs as we were leaving. Do you think she'll adopt me? (Just kidding, don't worry, I'm still coming homeJ
I just wanted to thank everyone for all your prayers and support. It makes living so much easier knowing so many people at home care about me. Thank you. Baie Dankie.
Her name was Minzana (affectionately known as Mini), and she passed away a little after 5:00am Monday morning (the 9th). Mini's children have gone to stay with their grandmother 4 hours away from Jeffreys Bay. And since Mini didn't have any other family in J-Bay, thay won't be having the funeral service here ether.
I feel as though all trace of Mini's life has all of a sudden been wiped away. Where's my friend I spent Christmas with? Where's the mother who was so determined to teach her children English so that they could have a better future? Where's the women who, despite being very sick for the past three years, had an unshakable trust in God? Where's the little boy who would giggle during prayers with his mom?
I miss them. I miss Mini.
I'm ashamed that I only went to visit Mini one time while she was in the hospital. One time. And that was the day she was admitted (the 6th).
I have this indescribable pit of loss in my stomach. It feels like I'm at the highest peak of a roller coaster, about to plummet back down.
Yesterday, one of my dear friends took a turn for the worse. She has HIV and TB.
I don't know how she got to the Clinic yesterday, but by the time she did, she was completely spent. They took her to the hospital in humansdorp, 25 min away. Brittany and I went with her, and if we hadn't, she would've had no one there for her.
Once at the hospital, Brittany and I got her tucked in and situated, then prayed with her. You could hardly see her form underneath the covers.
She has to spend at least two nights in the hospital. She has 2 young children in her care.
Would you please pray for her?
God knows her name, even though I can't share it with you
Here is a brief list of some things that I've been learning, and some ways that I've been growing, during my time in South Africa.
Hey, I don't berate myself in my mind anymore. [Woot Woot] It's scary to think that I had let Satan get that much of a strong hold there.
When Jesus holds my self worth, I'm safe.
Beginnings and endings are the hardest parts for me. The middle is so much easier for me then the start and the finish are.
Electronic devices do not add to my happiness.
It's okay to be happy or sad, even if the people around me aren't feeling the same way. I want to be where I am emotionally, since that's where I am anyway, I may as well be there. If I'm not where I am, where am I?
I'd rather have pain and hurt, then be an emotional desert.
Prayer only changes my life when I pray sincerely. So I guess God doesn't appreciate my B.S.
Snail mail is extremely exciting to me. [Don't laugh]
Music touches me in a profound way that I don't understand.
I'd rather be honest and transparent then have a perfect one and a half inch shell.
It may take me years to build something that someone could destroy in a day, but I will build anyway.
Let me just dive right in -
The Christmas season tripled the population of J-Bay, sending the crime rate through the roof, and packing the streets with inebriated holiday makers, and locals alike.
We had a much needed 2 week break over Christmas and New Years, so I was able to stay away from town, and avoid most of the craziness.
I've been back at the Clinic for a week now. It feels like I never left. I'm staying very busy in the pharmacy, prepacking pills, restocking, and making myself generally useful. The Clinic is horribly short handed, lots of our nurses have been getting sick, and our doctor still comes only once or twice a week.
God is still revealing Himself to me in new ways here. Be it through a conversation with a waiting patient, a kind word from a nurse, or time reflecting on Him as I count pills in the pharmacy.
Thank you, for your continued prayers and support.
Holiday season has officially started here in J-Bay. The town is now flooded with tons of tourists hoping to take in the warm weather and good surfing. It's sort of strange hearing American accents when I pass people on the streets.
I just got back from the Clinic (back being a relative term, as I'm now at the internet café). All this week I feel as though I've been able to see a need and fill it. I now know were the different medications are stored, along with their proper places in the pharmacy, so, whenever I see that we are getting low on something, I can just go into the store room and get it. Woohoo! I also prepacked about 4,000 pills today.
Tomorrow Lane, Brittany, and I (the Clinic Crew) plan to spend the day with one of our friends who lives in the township. Mini (said friend) thinks we are just coming to visit, but we are really going to bring food and clean. Oh sweet anticipation.
Before I arrived at the Clinic today, Louise fell and hurt her arm/shoulder. She was trying to get a heavy box off of the top shelf in the storeroom, when she slipped and fell. So, my day consisted of restocking the shelves for her, and counting, bagging, and labelling over 5,500 tablets (pills). At the end of the day Louise gave me a hug and smiled at me. I feel so blessed just to be able to be helpful. Does that make sense?
In other news - Jeffreys Bay will be my permanent location. The leaders really wanted me to stay at the Clinic (not only because the nurses like me) so that Louise wouldn't have to train someone else for the pharmacy.
I am safe and well. Your comments, prayers, emails, letters, and notes give me so much encouragement. Thank you
