A CALL to save babies in distress

---------------------Eveline (from Holland) busses Michael while he plays

Dear Friends- -------------------------------------------------July 31, 2008

I am having such an extraordinary week (and it is only Thursday), that I will just bust if I don’t talk about it.. And though I can’t foresee what Friday and Sat. will bring (though some say I can-smile) , tonight was the tip of the iceberg.
I call this the week I found yet another Calling--- “to save babies in distress” Michael, Baby #1 (and always will be) had attended the wedding of his father on Sat. Even though invited, I chose to not take away from the Bride and Grooms day and allowed Bernedette, my helper and Michael caregiver, to take him to the village for the day.. Apparently he wasn’t too taken with the noise level in the church and started crying, which is so unlike him. So after a few photo opps with Dad, Bernedette took him to his grandmothers home, who disapproved of the marriage and refused to attend it.
-----Ah, families—they seem the same the world over-smile----

Then the grandmother insisted on fixing some traditional porridge, which he refused to eat, shaking his head back and forth “no no”. Bernedette found it humorous as it is not his normal behavior. But he did “nap” on a mat on the dirt floor, without ever complaining that it was not as soft as what he was used to-Ha.

Michael has now been returned to Potters Village, safe and sound and chicken-pox-less

Last Sat. while the AIDS Orphans were in the middle of a party, dancing and having fun, we received notice that the third child in a neighboring family had died, under suspicious circumstances. It takes a lot for the Police to get involved in this country, but three sisters in less than a month, that did spark a controversy.. An attempt to do a post mortem on the body (autopsy’s are rarely ever done here) was denied as the body had been removed from the home so quickly..

After we recovered from the shock we put our attention to the remaining sister, age 11 yrs, by having her checked out by a Physician as well as performing our very limited blood tests The abdominal scan was negative but the blood work did show some typhoid and though quite common here ,we are hopeful Marab will not become ill, causing her mother to take her to the Herbalist for a cure. (which is the best possible explanation for such a tragedy). Another possibility is foul play of some kind and locally it is believed there was Witchcraft involved..

Beautiful Mom and Daughter "Wemana"

--Habib feeds Wemana with special nipple.---

-While sitting with Marab awaiting test results, in comes Wemana and her parents. Wemana is a baby who had just returned from Kampala where she had had cleft palette surgery. It was incomplete and she will need a second operation in Oct., but already there was a dramatic difference.. She had gained weight and smiled, which seemed impossible prior to this surgery.

But feeding remained a challenge, so Dr. Leonard, myself, the nursing student Habib, who had been so instrumental in communicating with the parents, as well as two of the visiting “girls” went to my home to Geri rig a method of how to use the special nipples used for babies with a Cleft Palette. After putting all our heads and brawn together we were able to alter one of Michaels bottles to use this unusual nipple, at which point I gave “feeding” lessons to the parents. It went well as parents and baby left satisfied, while we Caregivers rejoiced in our ingenuity (smile)

---------------------Mom, Habib, Dad and Wemana---

The next day a baby was brought into Public Health for Immunizations. I quickly observed that the baby was malnourished. Answered questions revealed that the one month old had been born at home, so there was no birth weight recorded. Also, the mother was critically ill with Malaria, in the Medical Ward of our hospital..

I took the child to be weighed and found it only 6 lbs now, sometime around a month after it’s birth (no one seem to know the exact date of the birth, which again is quite common in home births). They told me to pick a date the last ten days of June, so I chose my sister Theresa’s birthday of June 24th. The baby had been wrapped in a dirty piece of cloth, minus a diaper or a blanket of any kind, so off we go to my home to get a bottle, milk and clothes for this dear little one.. Again I gave the young sister and the relative carrying the baby, lessons in bottle feeding, washed and dressed the child in Michaels clothes and accompanied them back to the Ward where the mother lay, apparently unconscious..

The next day the young sister came to my home to pick up the dirty cloth which we had washed and today I heard the mother had died. What will become of this child I do not know, but at least between my skills and Michael’s bottles and clothes, he now has a chance.
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Today while in Pediatrics, I found a baby who was struggling to breathe and wasn’t expected to make it thru the night. I didn’t know that it could “save” the child but a respiratory treatment and O2 was his only chance. Unfortunately the electricity was off and had been sporadic the last 24 hrs. And though we have a generator, it either wasn’t on or it didn’t work, I am not sure.

I quickly went into my Mother Hen mode, determined to somehow get that child a treatment, but had little response from anyone as I frantically ran around (more like a chicken without a head, then a Mother Hen, I suppose). looking for electrical power anywhere in the hospital, or even on the grounds.. But to no avail!

As the adage goes “When all else fails-PRAY!”, so I prayed and prayed and prayed. What came to me in this bargaining type prayer (some Missionary I am-ha) was the response my friend Carol had made when I requested comments to my “Let Go and Let God” Blog, several weeks ago It read:.

. I don’t know how to answer your question! I am not one to adhere much to “let go and let God” when there are things that I can do! AFTER ALL, WE ARE GOD.S HANDS IN THE WORLD!
(my emphasis)

I think you just have to keep on plugging away at changing people’s attitudes and ideas, even when you meet resistance or when you are ignored. The only letting go you can do is to not carry over the frustration and anger into the next day and not letting it interfere with or hinder your ability to get along with the people who most frustrate you. If you were upset or frustrated because of things the hospital lacks and can’t get, that would be one thing. But your frustration is with the unwillingness to use the tools they actually have, and you have the responsibility to change that by persisting against the resistance that you come up against.

My comments, for what they are worth! ------------------------------Carol


So with those words in mind, I started afresh:: I went to the Guest House and said “Look between us there are 5 intelligent Minds here, we should be able to think of a way to help that baby who is struggling for every breath. “ After a period of a few minutes, Christy, the American Medical student, suggested we boil water for a steam inhalation. “Brilliant!”, I said and we dug out the Vicks Vapor Rub (Which was Evelines and written in Dutch, but Vicks none the same), carried our boiling water over to the Pediatric Ward (very carefully-smile) and preceded to give this child an old fashioned respiratory treatment. Only problem was getting the steam close enough to this critically ill child, but that was resolved as lovely young Eveline crawled into the crib to lift the limp little body closer to the table on which we had put the boiling water.

All this time the medical personal, students and mother are just standing there as if their feet were glued to the floor. I guess we were quite a site, but determined we were to at least try to help. And it did seem to help; his breathing slowed a bit, his O2 intake improved and then-- THE LIGHTS CAME ON!-- Unbelievable! We quickly gave a, Updraft Tx with Ventolin, then unplugged the machine so as to plug in the O2 concentrator.

The power was off again in about 30 minutes, on for a bit, and off again. So the next few hours I spent either putting the nasal cannula on the child or taking it off, as when there was no O2, I didn’t want to block the little air available.

Friday
Friday morning I arrived to find the students attempting to suction (per Dr. Leonards orders) the baby with an NG tube attached to a very antiquated suction machine If you have ever tried to put air in a tire without pressure you’ll know how successful this method was. I took the tubing , pinching it to make some pressure and while suctioning his little mouth and throat, he vomited copious amts. of dark brown blood. .
.
I spent my day off with this baby, whose name, though difficult to say and even harder to remember, means “One who is healed by God”. I mostly just sat with him holding his tiny fingers, as the mother was no where to be found. I ask the nurses where she might be and they said she was afraid her child would die and stayed outside the room I assured them that indeed she had every reason to fear that her child might die, as I saw little hope for any other outcome, but that she should, at least, have the choice to be with her child.

Apparently, she peeked in several times and saw me just sitting there holding his little hand and eventually she came into the room. I got up from the backless wooden bench to allow her to replace me, which she hesitantly did, then I straddled the bench and held her as she held her baby’s hand. We stayed that way for several hours, just weeping language-less tears at what seemed the inevitable----the death of her child.

There was nothing else to be done—when there was power he had O2, but that was all. Dr. Leonard had ordered blood to be given but the blood bank was empty. Now it was just a question of waiting and watching

The mother and I became “One” in our grief, she no longer ran away from her dying child, I no longer saw her as so very different than I. We were just two women being Present to this moment, which had no creed, no culture, no color.

Earlier I had baptized this child, as has been my habit to do over the years, and named him Patrick, after my Grandfather, who I had never known. I never said anything to the mother but he was” Patrick” to me. When I finally left that night to go home, I was exhausted but felt I had been where I was suppose to be when I was suppose to be there. I didn’t expect to find him there in the morning, but strangely enough my dreams were gentle and comforting and I slept well.. I thanked God for the blessing of being Present to this mother and child and said a resounding “YES” to what lay ahead..

I woke early enough to go to 7am Mass before walking over to the Pediatric Ward, then onto AIDS Orphans Saturday. . The scripture reading was reassuring, no matter what I found as the day progressed.. Jeremiah 26:14. “As for me, I am in your hands; do with me what you think good and right.”

Walking into the Pediatric Treatment Room, where little “Patrick” lay was laborious but as I entered I saw he was still there in the crib that Eveline had crawled into only 36 hrs. ago. He was very still, lying on his back minus O2, or tubes of any kind. He must have died recently, I thought, as I approached his side

. But, then, MIRACLE of MIRACLES, he opened his little eyes and looked first at me, then through me as if my body were blocking a far more compelling view.

He was alive and breathing well and would remain so till God called him, whenever that might be and now several days later he continues to heal, has received the blood ordered almost a week ago, and today was holding a piece of bread in the little fingers I had held so tenderly.

His mother and I again embraced and, again cried language-less tears, but this time they were tears of Joy .

--------------Patrick, Mom and Marie--

Who would have ever believed PATRICK actually means"One who is healed by God?!"