Friends

I have two lovely friends visiting since last week: Lexie and Paula. We used to work together in Seattle and they have been to Haiti numerous times to help with my organization and a couple of others. Thankful for you both! Both ladies blogged about meeting Ensa. I will use their links to update you: 

http://lexiemarie.tumblr.com/post/13498439854/haiti-nov-dec

and: http://growingwithpurposepaula.blogspot.com/2011/11/ensa.html

*Since these were written, I heard that Ensa had bone X-rays performed (most likely of her arms and legs) that showed no abnormalities. She is continuing to have fevers despite being on antibiotics. When I go see her today (hopefully) I will be given the phone number of a specialist to call. Hospital Espoir wants to discharge her today- despite her continued fevers- because they don't know how to help her any further. Please pray for answers! For her healing! Also, thank you thank you thank you to the generous people who have contributed to paying for her care and to those who have contributed to our general medical fund. You Are Awesome! 

Off topic: I have been so pampered lately. A few weeks ago my favorite chiropractor, a friend I met here three years ago (the guesthouse flooded when we first met. A few of us were electrocuted. It has bonded us for life), came to visit with her church and adjusted my back. One of her teammates gave me a haircut and to-die-for head massage. Is this what heaven will be like? Today I got my bangs trimmed by another visitor and my hair dried (oh, glorious heaven!) Jesus, you are so nice to me. Thank you for providing amazing people to love us! 

Ensa and Mikerlange

Last week Ensa, her mother, and I spent an exhausting morning at Medishare Hospital. A new doctor we saw tried to get her admitted, but again there was no available bed. She suggested a few hospitals to try, with only one being one I semi-trust (the nurses know me there because I took all of our kids there last year to get medical testing done. We probably made at least 15 trips there. Every time they'd jokingly ask if they could move into the orphanage or if they could get jobs there). So we drove to this hospital, Hospital Espoir, and they quickly agreed to take her. We walked in, asked, and it was almost like they had been waiting all day for someone to show up. She had an IV placed, has been receiving IV fluids, food, and various blood tests. Her HIV test was negative (thank you Jesus!) but her typhoid test was positive. Finally, we have an answer for the pain and the fevers! Since Monday she has been on IV antibiotics and quickly been improving. Hopefully on Tuesday I can bring her back to her family's home. 

Mikerlange continues to receive care at Medishare. It has been difficult to receive information on what is being done for her (neither she nor her mother have a phone and the doctor was unavailable to speak to on Monday) but she seemed to be feeling better last I saw her. 

In other news, last week a creative visitor set up bowling at our boys home, using empty plastic soda bottles with a light stick in them. Bowling balls? What are those? No, the kids, lying on their stomachs on skateboards, were the human bowling balls, flying through the dark into the soda bottles. Fantastic! If you creative types out there have other ideas for games, pass them my way. We need some more out-of-the-box entertainment around here. A few weeks ago we played whiffle ball with the kids at a park. At least we can laugh at ourselves. Maybe they should stick to soccer? And I'll stick to... tripping and falling as I run here.

And, today as we walked home from lunch on a busy street, we saw a naked man. Apparently he's around a lot (friends said they've seen him as well). He was strutting down the street, looking like he had places to go and people to see, carrying his clothes in his right hand. No one seemed to give him a moments notice or batt an eyelash. Alright. We'll try not to either. 

Praise Reports

Mikerlange, the young lady with HIV, was able to be admitted last Wednesday to receive IV hydration and food at the hospital. Ensa, the four-year-old beauty, continues to have fevers, but is able to eat daily at our girls' orphanage. She has also been accepted into a malnourishment program for children not too far from our homes. I'm not sure what that will look like for her, other than that she will receive Plumpy'nut, a ready-to-use therapeutic food. Tomorrow we will be returning to the hospital together where she will receive more test results. Her test results from last week showed that she is severely anemic and has an elevated white blood cell count, indicating an infection of some sort (but still unknown what kind). The X-rays of her arms, chest, and hands showed no abnormalities. THANK YOU for continuing to pray for these girls and for your financial donations to our medical fund. If you still would like to donate to the medical fund, you may do so here.

                                                                            Ensa

Updating from Haiti

I like surprises. So, here I am surprising some of you that I am back in Haiti! I am here long-term again (however long the Lord sees fit, pretty much). I'm living with a friend in an apartment near our ministry, which thrills me to no end. I have a serious crush on this place- cool breezes at night, a hammock on the porch, a home to share with others who need a place to rest, and a home to invite friends and the kids from our ministry to for dinners and fellowship. 

Last week my friend and fellow nurse with our ministry, Ashley, heard about a sick little girl near a tent city in our neighborhood. She walked to visit her home and found a 4 year-old with swollen and hot-to-the-touch hands, feet, and elbows, a fever lasting for 29 days, and the inability to walk. She'd been seen by multiple doctors at multiple hospitals, as well as two visiting doctors to our ministry. As things go here, we can't get a handle on what tests were done or their results or what diagnoses were made or ruled out. Last Sunday Ashley and our visiting doctor, Dr. Eddie, and I made a house call to her home. Thankfully they have a home made out of tin and cement, rather than a tent or tarp. We found her in the same condition as during Ashley's previous visit, sitting stiffly in a chair. We prayed for her and discussed possible diagnoses. Dr. Eddie pulled out a chocolate-flavored Promax (protein bar) and handed it to her. She looked like she had just been handed the whole world or tickets to Disneyland. She proudly displayed her gift to her mother and other relatives. Ashley gave her ibuprofen and she seemed to improve (less frequently feverish and the swelling in her hands and feet had diminished) in the last few days. However, last night her mother called Ashley saying that the ibuprofen bottle was finished and that she had spiked another high fever. We visited her today and she was indeed running another fever and the swelling in all extremities except one hand has returned. She did give us some smiles when offered a piece of gum. She beamed. I'll try to post pictures soon. Ashley and I are considering taking her to Medishare, a hospital started by the University of Miami, next week. Please pray that they have a bed available to admit this precious beauty (Ensa), that the finances will be provided in order for necessary tests to be run, and that the doctors who treat her will be kind, compassionate, and interested enough in her case to pursue all ways to diagnose and treat her. 

During Ashley's first visit to this area, she found another person extremely sick. A 21-year-old young lady, named Mikerlange, was stooped over, only able to walk with a walker, extremely emaciated, with a severe skin infection. Immediately Ashley suspected she has AIDS. Another mission took her to a hospital earlier in the week but found that that hospital was unable to treat her. On Wednesday Ashley took her to Medishare, where she tested positive for HIV. The nurse told Ashley the test was positive, but the person who does counseling for such patients was unavailable to meet with her and asked them to return the next day. Ashley was already working at another clinic the next day, so I took her. 

We now have a car just for medical purposes. And I can drive it. I'd only driven in Haiti to one close-by hospital and a close-by market before. I asked my Haitian friend, Marlval, to go with me to help me navigate the roads and actually make it to the hospital (I admit I am horrible with directions. Haiti makes this problem much worse). A visiting paramedic, Phil, accompanied us as well. Phil was here in Haiti around the same time last year and was super helpful when one of our staff members was extremely sick and other crazy medical emergencies popped up the same week. We arrived safely, with my passengers being very gracious and encouraging of my driving. Nearer to our destination though, Marlval said something along the lines of "You're being too cautious. Just go." Phil made fun of me for using my turn single because people don't do that here. They honk. Or they "just go." I had fun though and it was very freeing. 

Upon arriving at the hospital we waited for about two hours then a nurse called us into a room. Very quickly she blurted out that Mikerlange is HIV positive. I almost didn't catch her saying it. I looked quickly at Mikerlange and her mom and saw no reaction on their faces or in their bodies. I inquired of her multiple times whether she understood this diagnosis. There was no interpreter and with my amount of Creole I could not explain to her in-depth what this diagnosis means. I still wonder whether both mom and daughter already suspected she has HIV or felt so hopeless or resigned to it by then. As I was questioning her, I noticed that the nurse, as she was charting, was almost to the point of laughter. WHAT? Was my persistence striking her as funny? Did she remember a funny moment from earlier in her day? Is she so hardened, so callus, that she could laugh in the midst of this woman's pain and most life-defining moment? I wanted to reach across that desk and slap her. 

We moved back out to the waiting room and waited another few hours. Eventually the doctor showed up and seemed ready to start discussing Mikerlange's condition right there. I asked for us to move somewhere private, but then he ran off to get an interpreter. He eventually returned with the interpreter and the discussion began. Privacy, what? The doctor was receptive to my endless questions- "Can we admit her to the hospital today? What will they do for her if she is admitted?" It took some major rephrasing of questions over and over again, but eventually was told that they would feed her, possibly administer IV antibiotics, provide counseling, and start her on anti-retroviral drugs (standard treatment for HIV). The problem? No bed available in the hospital. Another hospital was offered but I haven't had a good experience with them and I was starting to trust this doctor- and we've had other, good experiences with them. The doctor and I exchanged phone numbers so I can find out when a bed becomes available. He prescribed the anti-retrovirals, as well as medications for her skin, which were filled at their pharmacy for no charge. Some other medications I will need to buy and find next week at a different pharmacy. As the doctor explained these medications and their administration to Mikerlange and her mother, "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" blasted from the other side of the wall. The contrast between the music and this girl receiving the worst news of her life caused Phil and I to chuckle in bewilderment. 

Today Ashley and I checked on Mikerlange. She indicated that she understands how to take her medications. However, she vomited her mid-day doses because she did not eat when she took them. She must take 6 pills morning, noon and night. With food. I returned later with some food for her to eat this weekend. I am overwhelmed with thinking about how we can truly help her. Taking her to the hospital is not enough. To start that, I must follow through with the rest. Why give her meds if she cannot take them or keep them down? How long can we continue to provide her with food? How do the other thousands or millions of people with HIV in this country take their medications when they don't eat every day? I have no answers. 

Please pray with us as we think through these heavy decisions. Pray that Ensa and Mikerlange will know the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Pray that we can get Ensa and Mikerlange beds at Medishare. Pray that their doctors will understand quickly how to help them. Pray that the Lord will grant them peace and healing. Pray that He will provide jobs for their families. Pray that the funds for treating them (and possibly feeding them) will be provided. Please prayerfully consider if God is calling YOU to participate in meeting their needs. Click here to donate to our medical fund and fill out the form, which will allow us to pay for their medical expenses.

Thank you for continuing to read this blog and for thinking through these tough issues with me.

The Giving of Thanks Continues

22. Kisses from children.

23. Warm babies against skin and nestled under a chin

24. Being able to sell my laptop. It was in rough shape. I pulled it out of my bag and the buyer began to laugh. Ouch. It did have some stains/dirt on the cover. The guy asked, "Where did you take this? Iraq?" "Um...No...Haiti." He chuckled then proceeded to laugh some more as it booted up- he wanted to make sure the internet worked on it. It booted up veerrry slowly then a webpage took about 5 minutes to load. Then froze. He apologized then said he couldn't give me as much as I was asking for it. He gave me a price and I took it. At least I got something for it and I wanted it gone. If only he knew that the top used to lie completely flat after I dropped the laptop years ago. For months, before being able to get it fixed as I was living in Haiti, I used a large can of tomatoes behind it to keep it up.

25. Cars. Mine is having some problems but it brought me safely home from California.

26. A good friend of mine has been working on her adoption and foster license for years. Last week two children were placed with them for foster care. I am excited to meet them tomorrow. Praising God He picked these wonderful people to love these kids!

27. Soup

28. Books

29. Hoodie sweatshirts

30. Cameras and pictures

31. Sleep

32. Chocolate

33. Music

34. Rockband and a friend to rock out with.

Giving Thanks

Have you read Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts? I read it last winter during a time when I was very discouraged, ungrateful, and well, frankly, I had a yucky attitude.  The ladies at my church are reading it and will be meeting together monthly to discuss it. God used this book, and multiple wise people, to put me in my place. And I think He's doing it again. Go get the book. Don't tarry! 

How can I be ungrateful when I have so much? How do I not give thanks every minute? The secret to being content is giving thanks. 

Not in order of importance. Today, I am thankful for: 

1. Jesus, the lover of my soul. 

2. Mom and Dad. I can pick up the phone or walk into their house and know that they are always there for comfort, advice, and a place to go home to. 

3. Sister and her husband. Again, a place to go home to. My sister is always honest with me. She gives me coffee, she taught me how to dress, let's me borrow her purses and heels, let's me get away with nothing. 

4. Niece and nephew. Niece was born on Thursday. I was privileged enough to be present at the birth. She is healthy and our family is rejoicing. My nephew, who I am enamored with.

5. Friends in Washington who feel like family

6. Friends in Haiti who feel like family

7. Friends in California and Florida who feel like family

8.  Wise women who give loving, challenging, and truth-filled council.

9. The Word- The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only. 

10. Haiti. Haitians. I have been shaped and refined into who I am today due to this country and its courageous, hilarious, and gorgeous people. 

11. The patients and families I have been blessed to know and take care of. I could write a whole blog post and more on what I have learned from them.

12. Late-night talks with moms from the hospital. Conversations where we struggle with sickness, death, our faith. Prayers offered up together, beseeching for healing, comfort, strength, trust, belief. Laughter together where you almost, but thankfully, not quite, pee your pants. Is that appropriate while hanging chemotherapy? 

13. Working at night creates giddiness and silliness that you may not encounter during the daytime. 

14. Couches. Being snuggled up with coffee, a book, and a blanket

15. Coffee

16. Chai Tea

17. Rain that pounds the house, windows, and roof so hard that you don't want to go out in it, but you can't help feeling so cozy and basking in its sound.

18. Friends around a table, sharing food, laughter, and fellowship. Laughing because you know each other and your quirks so well. You may have even argued about those quirks, but now there is a sweetness to knowing that your friendship survived it. 

19. A friend I can always call and a laugh is guaranteed. Honesty is always given and received between us. 

20.  I've loved every job I've had as a nurse.

21. Being allowed to enter into someone's emotional, physical, and spiritual pain, when they are at their rawest. It is humbling, beautiful, and a gift.

Let each day, each moment, be offered back to Him in thanks. 

Haiti 2004

Picking up where I left off on my post The Beginning...

I started my job at a children's hospital as an RN. I loved it, even though those first few months were extremely challenging and every day I walked into work feeling like I knew nothing. Meanwhile, Haiti and its people, especially its children, continued to rest on my heart. 

In October of that fall I received an email from my trip leader to Haiti saying that she'd been extremely burdened for the boys we'd visited and she'd been visiting them frequently when she visited the Haitian girl she and her husband were adopting. During one of these trips she learned that these boys were being abused and neglected by the man who had supposedly been caring for them. She, along with another couple, named the Manasseros (who'd met the boys on their own mission trip right after ours), flew down to Haiti to help the boys. When they arrived at their "home" they found all the boys walking down the street with what little they owned, starving and exhausted. The man abusing them had been thrown in jail, but that left the boys on the streets because the rent for their home had been left unpaid. They put all the boys in a truck, fed them, and drove around all night looking for a place that would take them. Eventually they found an abandoned church where they moved the boys and over the next few months found a couple of godly Haitian men to care for them. Meanwhile, these two couples were back in the states, raising support to move their families to Haiti to oversee the care of the boys and start a ministry called Child Hope International (with Maison de Lumiere being the home for the boys). My trip leader, Summer, wanted to know if I'd like to travel back to Haiti with her and her sister during the upcoming summer. I was thrilled and quickly agreed to go. 

So, it was with much joy that I met up with Summer and her sister Kyle in Miami, along with Rhonda, a hilarious woman from my first trip (Rhonda and I continue to meet up in Haiti almost every year, usually unplanned), and a group from Rhonda's church. We dropped our luggage at the same hotel from the year before and drove over to the new boys' home.  We were welcomed by a group of excited boys, twelve in number. The remainder of the boys who'd been living with the American man were older and had moved out, returning to the streets or to programs for older kids. That week we played board games, introduced the boys to play-doh, learned to dance (Haitian-style), peeked in on them as they attended school for the first time, worshipped together, and played a very confusing game of Sardines (most of the boys didn't understand the rules). Summer, Kyle, a new friend named Meleesa, and I decided to spend one night at the boys' home. One of us tried to enter the bathroom but was stopped short by an enormous cockroach blocking our way to it. This was before cockroaches became my roommates, bathroom-mates, and kitchen-mates years later and I learned to be-gudgringly co-exist with them. No bathroom usage was going to occur with that thing in our way. Hours (yes, we were very girly girly) of laughter and attempts to coerce each other into killing it ensued. Eventually one of the other woman killed it by throwing a sandal at it. But we left it in the hallway as no one had the nerve to actually move it- because it surely would rise from the dead. I was so creeped out by the thought of things crawling on me at night, that I slept with pants on and my sandals on my feet. Yes, I am ridiculous. 

The next day we drove to the beach with the boys and the team. Swimmers the boys were not. Outside the water, they were tough and independent. Inside the water they became little boys, needing love and safety. Summer and I decided to stay in Haiti an extra few days, while her sister and the team left on their scheduled date. We took our stuff over to the boys home and camped out with the cockroaches. 

For the next few days Summer and I traveled around Port au Prince with some of the boys, looking for their family members. We wanted to reunite these kids with their parents and families (some had not seen them in years) and needed permission from their parents to keep them in the boys' home. It was a beautiful but sobering time, watching the kids see their parents and siblings and neighbors after years of being apart. As far as I could understand, we found each family just by word of mouth. The boys had some idea of where they had grown up so we headed out in those areas, walked around a bit, then eventually a neighbor, relative, or childhood friend recognized them. Each time when they were recognized, people gathered around and began announcing their presence. By the time we arrived in front of their parents, crowds of people had gathered. Summer explained to each parent where their child had been, where they were now living and what MdL was doing for them. She asked each child if they would like to stay with their parents, but all shared that they wanted to stay at MdL. Each parent agreed that they would like their child to be raised at MdL. We gave them information about how to contact their children if they wanted to see them and then traipsed our way down through the hills, led through the rocks and the mud by the boys. At one point I remember sitting in a truck and the words, "I want to move here," came flying out of my mouth. I meant them, but the thought seemed so crazy and not like me, that I considered trying to grab the words and putting them back in my mouth. A few days later we bid a tearful goodbye to the boys, wondering when we'd be able to return.

Again, I left Haiti wondering what my role in the future there would be.  I could be a nurse there. But me, really? The girl who hates dirt, creepy-crawling creatures, and being hot?