Got up early this morning and went with Dick to pick up Jessica and her mom at Casa de Fe. Mom said Jessica had hardly slept at all last night, and she would cry if anyone but mom held her. I did manage to get an almost smile out of her, though.
We got to the hospital about 7:30, and thankfully were #1 in line to see the pediatrician (due to the efforts of another Jessica, the head therapist at the hospital). This meant we only waited until 9:50 for the doctor to come in. He seemed to give her a pretty thorough exam, asked mom a lot of questions, and then sat down at his desk and began writing for about 10 minutes. I can't get used to how medical treatment is given here. Not once did he speak to Jessica, and he only spoke to mom when he was asking a question or telling her to do something. No explanation, no reassurance, no humanity. I finally could stand it no longer and waited for him to pause writing for a moment to ask him if he was going to admit her to malnutrition.
He looked at me as if I had fewer than 3 functioning brain cells, and slowly explained that that was what he was doing. Evidently, it didn't seem important to him to discuss this decision with mom, or anyone else. . .luckily this mom was prepared for Jessica to stay, but I had to wonder what would have happened if Dick hadn´t done such a thorough coaching job with mom before we saw the doctor. But mom, who is a widow raising 6 kids, is willing to do whatever it takes to get her healthy, so Jessica was admitted this afternoon.
As I watched the doctor examine Jessica, I couldn´t help but think of the verse in Ps. 22, that says, "I can count all my bones." I literally could count the vertebrae in her spine without even trying. What shocked me more than anything, though, was when Dick reminded me that most of the kids we find who are starving have cerebral palsy or another health problem that makes it difficult for them to eat. He reminded me that this is not the case in India, Africa, or many other places where healthy children are starving for lack of food. And I know that even here, for every one Jessica we find, there are a dozen more dying in hammocks in back of their homes. And I can't help but ask why. It would be easy to blame God, but I also know that if one tenth of the pepple who claimed to be a Christian fed just one starving child, there would be no starving children. I think of the jokes I've heard around many dinner tables, when parents tell their kids to eat because there are children starving in India. I pray that God convicts every parent who has ever said this to their child (me included) to actually DO something about a starving child.
"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.
"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?
'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
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Home to the 7 people in Jessica's family. |
Today is "Independence Day" in Guatemala. On my way to Hermano Pedro, I got to see a small part of the 3 hour parade taking place in Antigua today. Somehow, though, knowing I was going to meet Dick and Jessica's mother, to take mom back home, put a damper on my desire to celebrate. And, when I arrived at Hermano Pedro to find all the kids lined up along the wall, I couldn't help but think that they have no reason to celebrate this day--they have virtually no independence. Except for the choices we give them, they don't get to decide anything for themselves. Many can't move by themselves, and some of those who can have the wheels on their chairs tied so they don't get "into trouble."
I hadn't planned on taking out any "work" for the kids this morning, because I knew we'd be leaving shortly after Dick and momma arrived. However, after about 5 minutes of continual requests for "trabajo" from the kids, I broke down and brought out the boxes. Today I decided I really need to make a picture schedule, to help both me and the kids make sure everyone gets their time. It is so easy to spend time with the kids who "demand" it, forgetting about those more withdrawn who probably need the stimulation even more. Though it's hard to have 7 or 8 kids all calling for attention at once, I could help but enjoy the contrast from them sitting along the wall when I arrived.
I went with Mom up to malnutrition to see Jessica. Since there is another Jessica who recently came in to the unit, it was decided that our Jessica would be called by her second name, Vanessa, to keep things from getting confused for the nurses. I think it was hard for mom to come in and not even see her daughter's real name used to mark her crib. I have a hard time understanding why it would be too confusing to have two Jessica's, but I just chalked this up to one more thing I don't understand about how people think here. This one is not worth fighting, though mom brightened considerably when I told her that her little girl will always be "Jessica" to me!
Mom's time visiting with Jessica was all too short, and I had the distasteful task of telling her it was time to leave to take her home. It was so hard for her to leave this precious little one behind, but she kept telling me that she knew if Jessica was going to live, she had to get help. I thought back, almost 30 years, to when I had to leave my newborn daughter, Mikayla, in the hospital because she was premature. I understood how hospitals work, had the ability to drive to see her each day, and still didn't think I'd survive this part of my life. To be a single mom, with no experience other than living in a small "finca" (farm), leaving your daughter with total strangers, took great courage on the part of this mother.
I promised mom I would check on Jessica each day, and that I would look after her as if she were my own granddaughter. When I said this, Mom burst into tears and just held my neck, thanking me for caring for her and her daughter. In my limited Spanish, I tried to explain that we consider it a privilege to support them through this. On the two and a half hour ride to their house, Mom would often say to me that Jessica now had new grandparents in Dick and me. That's one of the best compliments I've gotten since I moved down here, and I know Dick feels honored, too, to be "grandpa" to this little one. (I do feel honnered but worry a bit about this tarnishing my reputation since I have never been married. Dick )
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Jessica's Grandmother |
Dick had prepared me for the very poor conditions in which this family lives, but it was still hard to walk into this one room where 7 people eats, sleep, and live. When I asked Mom what happens when it rains, she matter-of- factly answered that they get wet. I could see the holes in the tin roof, and imagine the water from the hillside flows right through the house when it rains hard--which it does almost every afternoon during this time of year. The fact that Jessica was still alive, and as healthy as she is, seems even more of a miracle after visiting the conditions in which she was living.
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This is the stove in a corner of their house |
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The boys carrying the wood needed to fire the stove |
And this was just one of many families who were "squatting" in this somewhat defunct coffee plantation. I asked Mother how she supported the family, and she said she sells bananas when she can, and that her mother-in-law sometimes gives her a little corn to make tortillas for the family. (Since you can buy a dozen bananas for 10 quetzales (about $1.20) I can't possibly imagine how this family has survived.) (Pat lives in Antigua where prices are much higher. Here in Chimaltenango I pay 3Q $.36 for a dozen bananas and I would imagine that mom gets far less for them where she lives. Dick) Mom was thrilled with the sack of groceries Dick brought with from the Bethel shop, and, at least for a few days, this family will eat well. We need to find a sponsor to provide food for them on a regular basis, though, if Jessica is ever to be able to return home.
We really wanted to visit longer, and were just going up the hill to see Jessica's grandmother, when it began to rain and Dick told us we needed to leave NOW. Living here has given me a new appreciation of the saying, "The Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise!" That was the only way we were going to get back home in the rain. And, God was willing, and the creek didn't rise (at least not before we got to the highway), though we went over a couple of rather interesting bridges on our way out.
This was a difficult day, but a good one. Today was one of those days when I felt privileged to be a woman in ministry. I could relate to Mom and the family in a different way than Dick could. I could receive the friendly touches and hugs, and even kisses. Mom asked if I would call her to let her know how Jessica was. I now have a new friend in Jessica's mom, and feel like I'm now part of another Guatemalan family.
Pat
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