There are people buzzing around everywhere and from my little bed, I could see all kinds of horrors. There were police officers coming in and out. A woman who loudly vomited and choked every 5 minutes. Babies were crying from the pediatric room about 15 ft away. In the corner a little Mayan woman held her little boy as he cried out in fear everytime a nurse came near to see the huge mass in his little brown tummy. I thought my back was hurting; it hurt even more seeing that tiny lady having to constantly hold her 25lb little boy. She had been there longer than us and they didn't even give her a bed. She sat in an old rusty, blue, leather dentist chair that was missing the head support and only had one arm rest. It had been shoved up in the corner. There were spider webs everywhere and moths and mosquitos seeking the abundance of blood. There was used gauze, IV cords, bloody cotton balls all over the floor. The red zone was 20ft straight ahead, the green zone next to that and the emergency room was in the middle and there we were in the observation area. For the nearly 100 or so people that were jammed into this small place, there was one bathroom. A sign hung on the wooden door that said, "Please do not shut door." in Spanish. The word shut was misspelled. I prayed to the Lord that He would somehow make me not have to use the restroom while we were there.
We were in the Coban hospital. The place that every Cobanero tells you you never want to go. The place that missionaries would rather die than have to go. The place where people generally go to die, at least that is what we were told. We had at least three nurses come to our bed and tell us we would be better off to just take our baby home because here children get so much sicker from such poor hygiene and conditions.
Mary Charis had been sick and instead of getting better, it got worse. Bad enough to begin a fever and keep her awake with coughing fits so strong her face would turn blue from lack of oxygen. We took her to her pediatrician, quite possibly the best pediatrician in Coban. His private clinic is twice as expensive as the other pediatricians, but he is ten times better. Within 30 seconds of listening to her chest, he tells us we need to go to the emergency room at the hospital right now. He drove us there. Holding my baby who just threw up all over herself, I am trying so hard to keep my cool and not cry. My eyes were filled to the brim with tears, but only a few fell out. I was doing good. Our pediatrician also works at the hospital.
The hospital has good doctors and some good nurses, but that is it. You have intelligent people with very little, old, run down, equipment. It is a free public hospital, so that is where everyone goes. They are funded by the Guatemalan government, enough said. They use laundry detergent for soap, they have no gloves, no toilet paper, minimal cleaning supplies, and hand-me-down broken equipment from the United States. They have gowns and sheets that must have been reused a thousand times and they do not wash between every patient. It isn't possible. We could have been the first ever Americans to seek treatment there. The place stopped for just a minute when we walked in. A nurse came to our bed and took out her cell phone and asked Geoffrey to take a picture of her and Mary Charis. Mary Charis was naked apart from her diaper, and she thought she was a baby boy. She picks up our sick baby and squeals, "It is a Gerber baby, a pure Brad Pitt!!" It wasn't until that moment that Geoffrey and I realized that Mary Charis's face does kind of look like Brad Pitt's...
Anyway, we got a lot of attention and Mary Charis got an IV and bloodwork, an inhaler and a turtle mask for oxygen that looked like it had never been cleaned. She was very brave the whole time. We stayed there in order to be under observation by our pediatrician and that was the only place we could get the oxygen treatments and the X-Rays. We stayed there for 20 hours my friend, and the things we saw, you just would not believe. And I did end up having to go in that bathroom. We had to remind the nurses to give her her medicine every time. I asked one nurse to lift up the head of the bed so I could lean back, she looked at me in disbelief, disbelief that it was possible to lift the head of a bed! An unheard of request. She searched all around and finally found a lever and pulled it and to my surprise, and to hers, it worked. But only a little. I didn't dare close my eyes in that place, and I was beyond tired.
I felt terrible for the people around me. I prayed for them. They had no choice but to be there, but I'm not even sure they realize that other places exist where you dont have to lie in another's blood. When we first got there, there was an 11 year old little boy without a shirt on. He sat quietly on the bed next to the one we were assigned. His hands covered his face and his shoulders shrugged up and down as he cried. At this point, I was still fighting back tears myself. I determined that I had to be brave for him. Some nurses or helpers or something came to him and were putting his IV in and through his quiet sobs, he asked where his dad was. The nurse told him he didnt know and left. I walked Mary Charis over to his side of the bed and I asked him if he hurt his foot. He said no that he hurt his head and he turned it and showed me a large, oozing cut that had been just recently stitched. I asked him if it hurt thinking that was why he was crying. He shook his head. I asked him if he was crying because he was scared. He nodded his head yes. I told him I was too and that was the first time he looked up at me and met my eyes. His eye was dark blue and bruised. He asked me where I was from and we talked about plane flights to the United States and he told me all the English words he knew. I finally asked him what happened to him and he told me he was in a tuk tuk and a car hit it and he went flying out of it. I asked where was his momma and he said his dad had come with him in the ambulance but they wouldn't let his dad come inside. So Mary Charis and I asked the nurse why they wouldn't let Angel's dad in to see him and he gave me some excuses and then to my surprise that same nurse went and got his dad and brought him in. Turned out that his skull was fractured and he had to be rushed to Guatemala City because there are no neurologists in Coban. It only took them about 6 hours to tell him that.
So morning comes, finally, and we are praying that the pediatrician will tell us she is good enough to go home. I didn't care where we went, I just wanted to get out of that hellish place. He listened to her breathing and told us he couldn't let her leave, she was not good and needed to be admitted. We told him that we would take her to Guatemala City and have her admitted there. They released her under special circumstances trusting that we would drive her straight there. They left her hand IV in too so she wouldn't have to get stabbed again when she arrived. We ran home, grabbed a suitcase, and off we went.
Here I sit in a nice, super clean bed with my baby. The cleaning lady has just walked in for the second time today to mop the floors and clean the room. There is an LG flat screen TV with a Wii on the wall right in front of me and I am using the free Wifi service. There is an air conditioner above my head! This is supposed to be the nicest private hospital in the country, and it is nice and very private. The complete opposite of where we were yesterday. We haven't had to wait for anything and I have not seen not one other patient. The only thing I miss is our pediatrician, but he has already called us this morning to see how Mary Charis is doing and to get an update.
The puppy baby has severe bronchiolitis. She is getting respiratory therapy and breathing treatments. They want her for at least 48 hours and then we will see. Mommy and daddy get to stay in the room with her all day. We were supposed to attend a mandatory conference with the Consejo Nacional de Adopciones today for our children's home, but the authorities have given us permission to send just our social worker. That is a huge blessing for us, otherwise we lose our accreditation.
I was reading this morning about Jesus at the well with the Samaritan woman and what Jesus said struck me in a way it never had before. He said, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst." It is easy to understand what this means, but to understand it as a truth....taking what Jesus offers you, you will be satisfied forever. Forever is a long time to be satisfied. The Lord reminded me this morning of how "thirsty" I was before I was born again. My soul longed to find peace and it never could be truly satisifed. Temporary satisfication, maybe. But that only lasts for a minute, a day, or a month and you find something within you still slightly unsatisfied. But the moment you take what only Jesus can offer, you find that your soul never thirsts again. This morning I asked myself if it was true. Do I still thirst for something? Has my soul ever thirsted for anything since I met Jesus? No. I am completely satisfied and my soul is at peace. My soul rests completely in assurance. I hope the same for you.
We'll keep you updated through facebook on Mary Charis. Thank you for praying. She's in good Hands.
P.S. - She did not get this sickness from being cold. Period.
No comments:
Post a Comment