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#136a Shanksteps- followup
I sit here at 2AM unable to sleep.  I was called into the hospital to see Baldina as they said he had a low blood pressure.  On the way in I hear the wailing.  He has died.  I go through all we have done on him, all for naught.  He tried to kill himself and then there was hope, now he is dead.  He succeeded.  I hope his last few days were ones he used to ask forgiveness of his family and God, otherwise there is NO HOPE.
At the same time they call me to see another elderly woman who is unconscious.  I had admitted her this morning with epigastric pain and what I suspect is typhoid or malaria.  Tests have no been done yet.  I check her glucose and find it 41.  We start replacing her sugar with the IV but within 5 minutes she is gone also.  Too much death!
I sit here hoping for the day when Jesus will come back to get us all.  Rev 21:4 says: “and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; for these things have passed away.”
One day, when Christ comes, we will not have pain, sorrow, or death.  I pray that day come soon.  I’m tired of all the death and sorrow of this planet.
Greg

136b
Audrey here.  After Greg came home (and wrote the above follow-up) we prayed for the families of those who had just died. We reflected on the day, and prayed for sleep to come for us.  Two hours later I was called back in because Baldina’s wife was convulsing.  Apparently she hadn’t slept for about 5 days and had been crying hard for the past 2 hours. If finally took it’s toll on her. I gave her something to calm her and allow her a long sleep.  I too was unable to sleep after returning home. I reflected on the day.  Earlier that day, three children had died almost immediately upon arriving to the ER.  They were brought in about 4 days too late (which unfortunately is not unusual).  Five deaths within 12 hours.  Too much!
The following day was Friday. We had a lot of patients to see, both in clinic and in the hospital. After seeing them all and finally getting ready to go home, I started hearing someone crying outside the window of the ER. I looked outside and heard more wailing coming from the Adult Ward.  I ran over to find out what had happened.  The nurse said that Sali, an old man that had come in that morning with pneumonia, was taking his last breath. The family was wailing even before he was dead.  I examined him as he breathed his last.  I helped the family get his things together and return unused medication. As I was leaving the ward, another nurse asked if I had gotten all of Tize’s things together. I asked what had happened to Tize.  She said that was the man who died and his family was wailing.  He was a young man, around 36, who came in with abdominal pain but was getting better as of about two hours before.   Two deaths within five minutes of each other.  Two hours earlier, ne
ither looked like that day would be his last.  That brings the death count to seven within 24 hours.  Too much death and illness!!!  Greg and I finished up work (which at that point felt like it was never going to end) and walked home in a daze.  We got on the motorcycle and drove into the mountains to clear our heads.
Please pray for the families of these seven patients. Please pray for the emotional state of our workers who have had to deal with all of these deaths in addition to working overtime and covering for co-workers who are sick. Please pray for us to be able to hang in despite the grief, guilt, frustration, and fatigue.  Only God is able to sustain us during times like these. – Audrey

#135  Shanksteps – She dances too much!

“She dances too much!”  That was the reason that Pamda’s son brought her in to the hospital.  He was called by the other members of the family saying that his mother was ill and that he should come quickly.  So, he traveled the 8 hours from Garoua only to find his mother if good health, if not TOO happy.  The rest of the family said that she would be okay one minute, the next she was talking non-stop to people they couldn’t see, and would start dancing and singing.  This had been going on for several months and was disturbing to the family.

Sitting in front of me in my office was a cute little old lady covered with wrinkles from many years working in the sun. When asked a question, she got very animated and talked so fast I wondered how anyone could understand her.  She was obviously still very spunky.  I asked her son if she had been that talkative all of her life and he replied that she had.  I asked her all sorts of questions about her dancing and singing; about her religious background and beliefs; if she saw and heard things that others did not; if she was bothered by what was happening to her.  At first she seemed like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Little by little I guess she realized that she could trust talking with me (or at least that I understood a little of their beliefs) and started to open up to me about what had been happening. She said that although she was a Pagan, and believed in the spirit world, that she never had and never would “sacrifice” any of her friends or family for her o
wn wants and needs.  Someone like that is somewhat unusual to find within the Mafa culture.  Recently she had “unseen” visitors telling her to do some things that she didn’t want to do, and made her feel guilty. They would then tell her to dance and sing or they were going to be very angry and possibly take her life.  She said that she did all of this against her will, but was afraid to stop because she didn’t know what would happen to her.

Fortunately her son was a Christian.  We spent a long time talking about the evil spirits versus the good angels.   We discussed how God is much more powerful than these spirits and that HE could protect her from future attacks.  I reminded them that although we are in an (somewhat) invisible war, that Jesus has already paid the price and won the war.  We pondered over possible avenues that the spirits were allowed in to torment Pamda.  In the end, Pamda decided to trust that God could save her from her tormenters.  Her son considered taking his mother back to Garoua with him so “spirit worshippers” wouldn’t be surrounding her, and so others in his church could pray her.  Before they left, my translator and I both prayed for Pamda and her son to be cleansed and protected from further tormenting.  I don’t know what the future will hold for Pamda, but I have agreed to pray for her continually.  I have asked her son to send news from time to time. Please pray with me that Pamda
finds Peace in the arms of Jesus.
In His Mighty Grip,

Audrey

#134 Shanksteps
I walk into the hospital not quite feeling all-right.  Audrey asks me to stay home, I won’t!  I have had a runny nose and feel achy all over for two days.  I did the malaria test and typhoid tests, both of which were negative this time.  The day before I did not have the stamina to last all day like usual.  So I decide at least I will go in and make rounds on maternity/surgical ward as I usually do.  I feel tired but know I can at least do this.  I woke up with a fever of 102*F.  Now it has come down after some Tylenol.  I make rounds, sitting down often on the patient’s beds to talk to and examine them.  After rounds the administrator asks me to do one administrative thing with him before I go.  He and Audrey are in cahoots to get me out of the hospital.  I’m not entirely full of “fight” anymore and decide to go home after helping him.  Then there is the all too frequent call to the urgence (ER).  Kalda has a patient who he thinks I need to operate on.  So I saunter over the
re.
The teenager is lying on his back with abdomen exposed.  He is a thin guy but has a very protuberant abdomen as I see him.  He has slightly sunken eyes.  I feel for his pulse and it is rapid, I count-128.  His father has brought him into the hospital after being berated by one of our nurses to come in.  He has been at home 4 days without any bowl function.  He is completely obstructed.   I find no hernias, no previous surgery, and no starting point for the pain.  The history taking is less than optimal, but as I re-ask he questions I’m getting no further.  I give up and examine him.  He is tender to palpation and as I thump on his abdomen he winces in pain.  At least it is clear what I need to do’ Operate!  I have them send him over to the OR and ask Jacques to get him ready.  He calls me a half hour later saying all is set to go.  So I meander to the OR, gulp down some water and scrub.
We pray for him, as we usually do before starting surgery.  I open his abdomen, skin, minute amount of fat, fascia, peritoneum.  Dark purulent fluid runs out.  I’m glad I didn’t let my own feelings keep me from doing what I needed to for him.  As I open further his intestines burst from the incision, being liberated from their confinement.   As I explore inside I find a black piece of tissue in his lower abdomen with stool coming out near by.  I realize that his ileum (last part of the small intestine) is necrotic and isn’t even visible as a structure any more, but on both ends of where it used to be there is open small bowel and the same where it used to be attached to the large bowel.  Everything else is dark and has the characteristic red rash appearance of typhoid.  Typhoid is likely the real culprit.  I bring out two ostomies because of all the fecal contamination inside.  We irrigate repeatedly, but then again, what can really get rid of this contamination?  After clos
ing and putting ostomy sacs on the ostomies he goes out to his room.  I sit to write the note and suddenly feel very tired.  I go home, have a fever of 101.5 and sleep covered with many blankets even though it is 90 in the house.
I am comforted by the fact that God gave me the strength to make it though the surgery even though I didn’t think I had it in me!

In His Service, Greg