Let me tell you about my Thursday, as "typical" as a Thursday can be.
Thursdays are my day to "go in the bush." I drag myself out of bed at 645am. No matter what I'm doing, that's too early. Chad's already up with coffee waiting. Nede's usually bouncing around in her pajamas, chasing her dogs. Well, not this week, it was rainy and cold. I contemplated do we go out? Are the roads going to be muddy? What if we got stuck or, chose not to drive and have to walk in pouring rain. Awe, well, the clouds aren't that dark. We'll go.
By the time 8 o'clock rolls around I've gotten myself ready, filled our 20 liter water buckets in the house, had my breakfast, packed my backpack and the pickup with our makeshift mobile office/clinic. I meet my 3 colleagues we fill our bags with the necessities-- Tylenol, wound care supplies, soap and toothpaste. We pray and off we go.
Five patients on our agenda for today. Our first stop, a toddler who's been affected by malaria. Family, belonging to a church that doesn't believe in going to the hospital, left a malarial fever too long. Our little friend suffered a huge seizure leaving him without sight, with one-sided weakness and with little hearing, he's now requires total care. Family struggles and a new born baby makes it hard for a young mother to feed and care well for her children. We assess, encourage, pray and treat as able. Off to the next visit.
Today's no different, our battle continues, she refuses to swallow the tablets. Her two children watch on as their mother makes choices that will greatly affect their future. We feel we've made no progress after weeks of talking and praying. It seems there'll have to be a miracle to move this mountain.
On we go. Cruising down the dirt road, I make a quick stop to check out a snake I've seen in my rear view mirror. We stop to contemplate and get a good look. Seems like a gaboon viper or a puff adder. Awe well, let's keep going...
Next stop, a new patient we've only seen once. A tumor distorting her face, I can't imagine the pain she must feel and the social rejection that could be hers. We stop at the cellphone antenna as we had been instructed, got out of the truck and started asking where we'd find this woman's house. "Can we walk there?" we ask. It was meant to be near.
"No, lets go in the truck." It's down the valley, "close." Two young boys we've just met climb in the back of the pickup. But...before we go another elderly woman stops us. She tells us she has a growth on her back. She's in much pain. Can we help? We go behind a building, she lifts up her shirt...gulp. I can't believe my eyes. I've never seen such a thing. Deep breath. Okay, where is your house? We'll stop there after and get more information.
Off we go down the valley, in our truck on what appears to be a foot path. The trail gets skinnier. I get more nervous. If it starts pouring...will I be able to maneuver this vehicle up the hill? I pray a lot.
Finally, I park the car because we can't drive any further. Thankfully the walk is only a few hundred meters. We sit and hear her story. We then educate on how to take the medicine and I sit in adoration of the ruralness, the trees that have not been logged away to China. It's beautiful. As long as you're healthy, this is paradise.
After counseling another man on how to take the medicine the hospital gave him for his dizziness, we're off up the hill to meet the new patient. Phew...we made it.
There's one thing I love about a cold rainy day in Mozambique (they are few and far between). Sometimes, to get out of the cold and wet, you're invited inside their home. Modest would be a generous adjective. We entered this woman's mud brick home and listen to her story. Yes, she would be happy for us to do surgery on her! Whoa, whoa, whoa...let's back up and explain our program. We will not be performing any surgeries! :)
Okay, this day is not what we expected it to be but let's keep pressing on.
Next stop, a patient that we've been seeing for months. Here we all feel quite victorious. Our patient has been improving now that we have him on the proper medications. We join him and his family in their "cooking house", two fires are going. We find ourselves quite cozy-- singing and praying, I could stay all day!
Next stop, to discharge a teenage boy. Much to my surprise, not to heaven but to a long-full life, I pray. We did not find him at home. A young man who used to not be able to walk, if he did hobble around, it was definitely with 2 sticks and a lot of effort. Today we hear he now has a "shop" in the near village where he's selling dry fish and bread. A little entrepreneur found hope, health and happiness.
We popped down to the village to give our love and blessing to this young man. On the way we run into family members of others we've cared for. We greet the community health worker. I wave at the "Mama" of the village-- the lady you want on your side when you're in need. Thirty miles off the dirt road this little village is in my heart and I feel comfortable here. We buy some bolos (fried dough similar to flat bread). The girls know "sister Dara" likes hers with sugar. We take off for home. It's only 2 in the afternoon. I feel like I ran a marathon. We bounce home after stopping long enough for the girls to make their tuna sandwiches in the backseat. They're tired to-- the Thursday afternoon giggles have set in. We all look forward to a long weekend.
By the time I arrive home I'm beat. I can't think another thing as I'm processing the worlds I know-- life in America, life in my "tiny house" in Nhambia with my family and then the life that's such a part of mine up the dirt road. They each feel so vastly different from the other. I'll wrestle with it tonight-- how to live between the three. What an honor it is to be involved in so many different life styles.
And so there it is, I heat my kettle of water on the stove, ready my bucket bath, put on some warm clothes, sip my Chai tea and reflect on my "normal" day. Grateful I don't have to cook supper tonight as we'll be joining our Irish counterparts.
If you actually read this to the end and it felt long, yes, so did my day. This is my normal Thursday.
If you think of it, Dara and her team could use some extra prayers on these normal Thursdays.
