I have been avoiding this blog entry, I think since the day I arrived here. This will be my last entry from Cape Town, South Africa. Many of you have asked if I will continue blogging after I get back to the US. I will, I’m sure in the week to come, record my feelings as I begin to realize what I’ve experienced and actually have time to sit and process the difference it has made in my life. I’m not sure what will happen from there. I really don’t know where life will lead me from this point. I’m trusting, however, that whether I am in some foreign country around the world or at home in the Midwest, my life will continue to be a great adventure. So, check back every now and then. Perhaps you’ll stumble upon something worth reading (no promises, though!).
It has been very hard for me to sit down and record my feelings and experiences from this last week. I keep writing words and deleting them – not able to fully express what I’m feeling and not really sure myself what emotions are stirring up inside me. I feel very disconnected from the words I’m writing, so please bare with me as I attempt to sort through them while I share some of my final interactions from the week.
Tuesday, 28 April
The Pain Management Team had a goodbye tea for Taylor and I this morning. My favorite part about tea is the excuse it gives you to eat rich chocolate desserts at 10 in the morning. It was very nice to hear the kind words from everyone. They have so embraced this project and it has been such an honor to be a part of it. I had a whole speech ready to share about how I came to Africa to teach about Child Life, but have learned so much more in return. Unfortunately, in true Cara fashion, I started crying the moment I sat down and was only able to squeeze out a few “thank you so much” s. I think I did manage to say that the changes occurring in South Africa would ripple into other areas of the world, including the change it has made in me that I hope to take home and apply to my own work with patients and families. But then I started crying again and decided to focus on eating the cake sisters instead.
Missy and Joe were back for an outpatient visit again. Missy was in such a good mood. She was playing and laughing and talking. It was so great. At one point, she was sitting on my lap, giggling and blowing bubbles. One of the sisters walked by and asked Missy a question in Afrikaans. Missy smiled really big, nodded and said something back. The sister told me she’d asked Missy if she was really glad to see me today. Missy said that she was. It was really nice to hear. Missy can be so reserved sometimes and we don’t speak the same language, so sometimes it’s hard to know how she feels about our interactions. As I prepare to leave, it was nice to know that Missy had been positively affected by our time together.
Wednesday, 29 April
Another goodbye and another excuse for a tea. This morning we said goodbye to the C2 staff at tea after ward rounds. Prof said some really nice things about the Child Life project. He is the one who wasn’t totally sold on our involvement when we first started, but has now become one of our biggest supporters. He usually sights our presence in theatre as one of the biggest impacts we’ve made; claiming the children are much calmer and cooperative when we’re there. He recently attended a meeting in Durban where he gave a two hour presentation. Thirty minutes of that time was spent talking about Child Life and what he calls “complimentary medicine.” It was just so exciting to see the transformation of someone unsure of our presence on the ward to someone spreading the word about Child Life around South Africa. Later that day Prof also asked if we could process the length of stay a couple of boys will have to endure at the hospital. They will be there for approximately 2 months away from their families. Prof wanted us to use play to help them understand that and work through their feelings. How awesome is that?! He really gets what we do!!
Prof went on in his speech to talk about the ward. He mentioned how wonderful C2 was because the staff works as a true team. There is no hierarchy. Each profession is respected and valued for the expertise they bring and everyone is treated with the same respect. Sometimes that means everyone is equally rude to each other, but at least they’re all treated the same. ☺ Seriously though, that is the one thing I have appreciated so much that until this moment I hadn’t been able to put my finger on. When each member of the team is truly respected and given voice, they are freed to perform their greatest works, and the patients truly benefit. I’m not saying the ward is perfect, there are definitely challenges to bringing change, but for the most part, people have bee so open to new ideas and experiences. I hope that I can remain open in my own work to accept those ideas and suggestions of others, and in turn have the confidence to speak my own ideas with confidence.
I found myself speaking up a number of times to advocate for the kids. Situations like these have filled me with a confidence to go back and do my job well, to speak up and not be afraid; to have courage and confidence to do my job; to create a team where people aren’t afraid to talk to each other – no matter their position.
Thursday, 20 May
Today was my last day at the hospital; my day of final interactions. It was very bitter sweet. I had some wonderful play opportunities with the kids. I did about 4 surgery preps and 2 procedures supports in my first hour of the day. The kids were responding so well. It was the perfect way to end my time here. A number of kids came in today to receive their pressure garments, including Joe and Missy. It was kind of a neat ending to my time here, to see the kids I had started with progress to the stage where they were ready for their garments. There has been such a transformation in them, physically and emotionally. It was so wonderful to see.
I had a huge medical play session on the floor in the bay I worked in today. It may have been more fun for me to watch the reactions of the parents than it was the kids. As the mothers watched their children play and interact with eacth other, their stress turned to sheer joy. They were smiling and laughing right along with the kids. We often realize the positive affects of play on kids, but in this situation the positive effects on the parents were just as powerful. I think it was also good for many of the mothers to realize their kids are still the same kids.
I was feeling pretty good after all the successful interventions of the day. Other than dropping a crib rail on my foot, leaving it bleeding, bruised, and with a nice goose egg, my day had been pretty successful. I began my goodbyes to both the staff and the kids. One of the mothers said, “Shame. Only 2 months” when I told her I was leaving. I heard a lot more “Shames,” as I said my goodbyes. The most difficult goodbye was with the two little friends here from Zimbabwe awaiting surgery for the keloid scars. They greet me every morning with a running hug and their hugs flow abundantly throughout the day. I told them I was going home to America and today would be my last day. They just laughed at me and said, “You’re so funny.” They asked if I was coming back, but I told them no, that this was a forever goodbye. They asked when I was leaving. I said Saturday. One of them said, “So you will come tomorrow.” I explained the next day was a holiday and I would be getting ready to go home. They finally understood (as much as they could at that point) and gave me giant hugs and kisses goodbye. One of them climbed onto my shoulders and wouldn’t let go. I gave them final hugs and said my farewell to them, to the staff, and to the hospital. I cleaned the toys one last time, walked through the pointless metal detector one more time, took the bus home one more time, and let myself cry one more time (okay, so maybe more than once!).
When we got back to the apartment, my friend Tami was preparing to leave for her flight. We all sat around for a while talking and looking at old pictures, remembering our favorite moments together. When it was time to go, we walked her out to her taxi. It finally felt real that this would goodbye. She cried and we cried and she drove way from this adventure.
Saturday, May 2
Today is my last full day in South Africa. I’m not at a point where I can tell you what I’m feeling. That will have to come later. I’m also really tired. I am trying to stay up late tonight to help myself transition back to Central Time. It’s hard. You all are just getting home from work and I’m going insane, I’m so tired. ;) Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow and use the flight home to my advantage. I’ll be home Sunday at noon for those of you wanting to make sure my lawn is mowed and my house clean (hint. hint. ☺)
This morning Jamie, Danielle and I tried to hike Lion’s Head one more time, but it was foggy and started raining by the time we made it half way up. The rocks were pretty slippery, so we headed back down. I spent the rest of the day tying up loose ends and just enjoying my friends here. Caroline is gone for the weekend, so we said our goodbyes over the phone. It’s not quite sinking in yet, perhaps when I get to the airport, or walk on the plane, or maybe off the plane at home…or maybe a few weeks from now.
At any rate, I hope to find the time to truly realize what I’ve experienced here. I hope that I have accomplished what God had for me to do here. I still feel inadequate, but I know that God uses the willing, not always the strong. I pray that the experiences I have had have truly touched the lives of others, and that my life in turn has been changed for the better.
I hope that each of you has come to realize the ability in each of you to impact the world around you, whether you’re in Cape Town, South Africa or Kansas City, Mo, or where ever you may be. I never thought I would be able to do something like this….now I don’t know why I ever waited so long!!
Thanks for walking with me on this journey. God is SO good! His Love is so vast!
I’m signing off from Cape Town.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
4 girls, 3 mongoose, 2 craigs and a land rover
AMAZING!!!
That’s pretty much all I can say about this last weekend. I’ve been trying to decide how I can capture everything from the past 3 days into one little blog entry. I have decided that I just can’t. This is the one thing you will have to ask me to tell you about in person. It was definitely one of the best experiences of my life!
Here’s a brief attempt to capture my safari…
Our small propeller plane landed in Hoedspruit, South Africa about 1:30 pm, the last of the 2 flights that day (or any day for that matter). We stepped out of the airplane and walked down the stairs into the wide open field with a small brick building and a runway – known in this town as an airport. The e.mail we had received instructed us to look for the skinny ranger named Craig. We were the last people off the plane, so as we rounded the fence we were pretty confident that the skinny man with no shoes and a giant grin was our ranger! We greeted each other with huge hugs and followed Craig out to his land rover. Craig was the envy of all the other rangers with his 4 American girls carrying all their belongings on their backs. There really wasn’t anything special about us, except that we were under the age of 60. ☺
The ride to the campsite was filled with energy, animal sightings and laughter. Back at camp Craig 1 introduced us to Craig 2, the other ranger at our camp and the 3 pet mongoose. To fully understand our experience on this safari you must have a clear picture of the Craig
s. They are completely offensive, politically incorrect men who’ve been living in the African bush without electricity or any modern amenities for years. They smoke a pack of cigarettes a day and drink rum like it’s water. But you couldn’t help but love them! They’re also brilliant and the best safari guides we could ever ask for. Craig 1 used to be the top dog in conservation in South Africa – i.e. head of whatever they call the environmental department in SA. We fell in love with them the moment we met them. They took such good care of us and taught us so much in our short time with them.
The camp was centered around the fire pit and kitchen. The pit was where all our meals were made and also served as our gathering place for long evening discussions and entertainment. The path behind the kitchen led to the 2 outdoor bathrooms, fully equipped with flushing toilets, running water, and showers. The walls were made of reeds, with no roof and a beautiful view of the African wild. We stayed in raised chalets with 2 beds a piece. It was absolutely perfect.
We went on our first game drive a few hours after we’d gotten to camp. Craig 2 was our leader and introduced us to giraffes, zebra, kudu, elephants and rhinos. We were so excited. At first we couldn’t help but squeal, but we soon learned to contain ourselves, so as to no frighten the animals. Craig had so much information to share about the animals, the wild life, and the way it all worked together to sustain life in this place. I couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the beauty of God’s creation. He is so creative!!
That night we gathered for steak cooked over the fire and a late night of conversation ranging from politics and religion, to bad jokes and funny stories. We heard the leopards as we headed off to bed that night. The stars were absolutely amazing. There was no moon, so the stars were the only thing lighting the sky. We learned how to find south based off the Southern Cross. It was such a perfect day and night.
I don’t have time to go in to as much detail as I would like, but the next day we went on 2 game drives - that is after we pushed the land rover to get it started (think "little miss sunshine"). We saw tons of giraffe and zebra, warthogs, and other animals. We never did see any of the cats, but we did hear a momma lion calling for her cubs and lion’s at night. Every game drive we went on included a stop for tea and snacks. When we stopped for our evening tea, we sat in a field watching the impala play and the sun set over the mountains. As were looking at the vast stars, we saw a meteor with a huge tail streak across the sky. It was such a perfect moment. We didn’t get to see all the big 5, but we wouldn’t have exchanged the moments we had on this trip for anything.
We went on a final drive the morning we left and then packed our bags and headed back to
airport. We considered trying to miss our plane so we could spend more time in the wild, but we had to get back to work. We gave our final goodbye hugs and passed through security – which was a couple ladies opening one of our 2 bags (it’s harder to get in to a Royal’s game). As we boarded the plane we each shed a couple tears, sad to be ending our adventure.
I really hope the goodbye to Paradise Camp and the 2 Craigs will not be a forever goodbye. This safari was the first time I truly felt like I was in Africa. It was the Africa I came here to see and I had a very hard time walking away from it. It was the Africa that gave me a greater understanding of just how big my God is. It was the Africa that some day I hope to return to. I felt more safe the last 3 days, living in the wild with the animals than I have the whole time I’ve been in Cape Town. I can't explain everything that went in to the emotions of leaving on that plane. I think it had to do with an understanding that I would soon be leaving the Africa I am learning so much to love. As I was pondering these feelings of sadness and not wanting to leave Africa, I opened my journal. The passage Caroline had written for the day stated -
Trust - in His timing
Rely - on His promises
Wait - on His answers
Believe - in His miracles
Rejoice - in His goodness
Relax - in His presence
Perfect council for me in that moment. God's plan is far greater than any I can imagine. So, I will trust in Him.
I’ve just read back over this blog and have so much more to share for you to truly understand how awesome that adventure was, but I don’t have time and will have to just offer what I’ve written…and promise to tell you more when I get home.
We’re planning on coming back for a 21 day traveling safari with the Craigs some day. You’ll have to join! ☺
That’s pretty much all I can say about this last weekend. I’ve been trying to decide how I can capture everything from the past 3 days into one little blog entry. I have decided that I just can’t. This is the one thing you will have to ask me to tell you about in person. It was definitely one of the best experiences of my life!
Here’s a brief attempt to capture my safari…
Our small propeller plane landed in Hoedspruit, South Africa about 1:30 pm, the last of the 2 flights that day (or any day for that matter). We stepped out of the airplane and walked down the stairs into the wide open field with a small brick building and a runway – known in this town as an airport. The e.mail we had received instructed us to look for the skinny ranger named Craig. We were the last people off the plane, so as we rounded the fence we were pretty confident that the skinny man with no shoes and a giant grin was our ranger! We greeted each other with huge hugs and followed Craig out to his land rover. Craig was the envy of all the other rangers with his 4 American girls carrying all their belongings on their backs. There really wasn’t anything special about us, except that we were under the age of 60. ☺
The ride to the campsite was filled with energy, animal sightings and laughter. Back at camp Craig 1 introduced us to Craig 2, the other ranger at our camp and the 3 pet mongoose. To fully understand our experience on this safari you must have a clear picture of the Craig
s. They are completely offensive, politically incorrect men who’ve been living in the African bush without electricity or any modern amenities for years. They smoke a pack of cigarettes a day and drink rum like it’s water. But you couldn’t help but love them! They’re also brilliant and the best safari guides we could ever ask for. Craig 1 used to be the top dog in conservation in South Africa – i.e. head of whatever they call the environmental department in SA. We fell in love with them the moment we met them. They took such good care of us and taught us so much in our short time with them.The camp was centered around the fire pit and kitchen. The pit was where all our meals were made and also served as our gathering place for long evening discussions and entertainment. The path behind the kitchen led to the 2 outdoor bathrooms, fully equipped with flushing toilets, running water, and showers. The walls were made of reeds, with no roof and a beautiful view of the African wild. We stayed in raised chalets with 2 beds a piece. It was absolutely perfect.
We went on our first game drive a few hours after we’d gotten to camp. Craig 2 was our leader and introduced us to giraffes, zebra, kudu, elephants and rhinos. We were so excited. At first we couldn’t help but squeal, but we soon learned to contain ourselves, so as to no frighten the animals. Craig had so much information to share about the animals, the wild life, and the way it all worked together to sustain life in this place. I couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the beauty of God’s creation. He is so creative!!That night we gathered for steak cooked over the fire and a late night of conversation ranging from politics and religion, to bad jokes and funny stories. We heard the leopards as we headed off to bed that night. The stars were absolutely amazing. There was no moon, so the stars were the only thing lighting the sky. We learned how to find south based off the Southern Cross. It was such a perfect day and night.
I don’t have time to go in to as much detail as I would like, but the next day we went on 2 game drives - that is after we pushed the land rover to get it started (think "little miss sunshine"). We saw tons of giraffe and zebra, warthogs, and other animals. We never did see any of the cats, but we did hear a momma lion calling for her cubs and lion’s at night. Every game drive we went on included a stop for tea and snacks. When we stopped for our evening tea, we sat in a field watching the impala play and the sun set over the mountains. As were looking at the vast stars, we saw a meteor with a huge tail streak across the sky. It was such a perfect moment. We didn’t get to see all the big 5, but we wouldn’t have exchanged the moments we had on this trip for anything.
We went on a final drive the morning we left and then packed our bags and headed back to
airport. We considered trying to miss our plane so we could spend more time in the wild, but we had to get back to work. We gave our final goodbye hugs and passed through security – which was a couple ladies opening one of our 2 bags (it’s harder to get in to a Royal’s game). As we boarded the plane we each shed a couple tears, sad to be ending our adventure.I really hope the goodbye to Paradise Camp and the 2 Craigs will not be a forever goodbye. This safari was the first time I truly felt like I was in Africa. It was the Africa I came here to see and I had a very hard time walking away from it. It was the Africa that gave me a greater understanding of just how big my God is. It was the Africa that some day I hope to return to. I felt more safe the last 3 days, living in the wild with the animals than I have the whole time I’ve been in Cape Town. I can't explain everything that went in to the emotions of leaving on that plane. I think it had to do with an understanding that I would soon be leaving the Africa I am learning so much to love. As I was pondering these feelings of sadness and not wanting to leave Africa, I opened my journal. The passage Caroline had written for the day stated -
Trust - in His timing
Rely - on His promises
Wait - on His answers
Believe - in His miracles
Rejoice - in His goodness
Relax - in His presence
Perfect council for me in that moment. God's plan is far greater than any I can imagine. So, I will trust in Him.
I’ve just read back over this blog and have so much more to share for you to truly understand how awesome that adventure was, but I don’t have time and will have to just offer what I’ve written…and promise to tell you more when I get home.
We’re planning on coming back for a 21 day traveling safari with the Craigs some day. You’ll have to join! ☺
Friday, April 24, 2009
also...
just wanted to let you know that my friend jamie is also keeping a blog of her time here, so if you want to hear her perspective on the trip, check it out at jamie-day.blogspot.com.
also. some of you were telling me you wanted to comment, but couldn't. i changed some of my settings and you should be able to comment now. so do. it makes me happy. :)
also. some of you were telling me you wanted to comment, but couldn't. i changed some of my settings and you should be able to comment now. so do. it makes me happy. :)
the first of the lasts
Today was my last Friday at the hospital…and thus begins the lasts. I’m not quite ready for all the lasts, but they’re coming regardless, so I will embrace them and enjoy them. Today was definitely a cherished day.
The ward was extremely slow today, most of the kids having had their wound checks yesterday and only a couple scheduled for theatre. I spent a large part of my day with Wednesday. His good friend had gone to theatre, so he was left without a playmate and needing some major attention. We pretended like cricket pitchers (I don’t even know if that’s the right terminology) and threw the ball back and forth down the hallway. He wore me out just watching all his energy buzzing around the unit. Sunday thrives on love. I can’t tell you how many sticky hugs and snotty kisses I received from him today. He was upset when his friend came back from surgery crying, so we spent some time just sitting together blowing bubbles. He was very sad to see us leave today, but I assured him we would be back to play next week.
For part of my playtime with Wednesday I was holding Bona (I wish I could write his real name on here because I love to say it!). He was so playful and would mimic everything that Wednesday did. It has been so great to watch how far Bona has come under Danielle’s care. He used to be a baby who just lay in his bed and watched the world pass by. But now he is so engaged and interactive. He sits up and plays and giggles and talks and mimics. It has been so great to see.
Joe and Missy came back today for physio. They looked so great! They were shy at first, but soon warmed up and I got my fair share of hugs and kisses. I was really glad to have such an uneventful day so I could spend some quality time playing and saying goodbye to them. I tried to tell Joe that I would be going home to America next week, so this was our forever goodbye. I don’t really think he got what I was saying, though. He repeated America and home and smiled really big. He did give me a big hug, though. It has been so amazing to watch him heal – physically and emotionally – during his time here. He was with me from the day I got here and has come such a long way. He used to be so withdrawn and scared. Now he is confident and full of life. It has been such an amazing transition to watch.
I also spent quite a bit of time with Lindy. She is a the little girl who had one of her legs amputated due to meningitis. She has such a sweet spirit and is always smiling and waving when we walk by. Caroline has been doing a lot of work with her and will actually be using Lindy and another girl, who had her legs amputated due to the same disease, for her case study to present to the hospital trust. The other little girl was never prepared for her amputation prior to surgery. She went in not knowing what was happening and came out with both her legs gone. Needless to say, the majority of interventions with her were centered on damage control. It’s difficult to help a little girl trust again when something like that has happened. I can only guess what she was imagining was going to happen each time she went in for surgery. Lindy on the other hand benefited from a great prep session with Caroline. They used a blank cloth doll and, with the help of a translator, performed surgery to remove the doll’s leg. Lindy was not happy with this thought (understandably so), but Caroline explained the need for her “really bad sick” leg to be removed and Lindy eventually came to understand. She has coped remarkably well since the surgery. Her story is such a contrast compared to the other little girl. There’s no doubt that Lindy will continue to encounter challenges and obstacles, but she is in the process of developing the coping skills she has gained to face those challenges as they come. It is great to see.
Tomorrow I leave for my safari in Kruger National Park, so I won’t be back on the blog until Monday night or Tuesday. Craig – the self described skinny ranger – will be waiting at the airport tomorrow to take us on our adventure. If we don’t come back, try checking with the lions! Have a great weekend! It’s your last one without me! ☺
The ward was extremely slow today, most of the kids having had their wound checks yesterday and only a couple scheduled for theatre. I spent a large part of my day with Wednesday. His good friend had gone to theatre, so he was left without a playmate and needing some major attention. We pretended like cricket pitchers (I don’t even know if that’s the right terminology) and threw the ball back and forth down the hallway. He wore me out just watching all his energy buzzing around the unit. Sunday thrives on love. I can’t tell you how many sticky hugs and snotty kisses I received from him today. He was upset when his friend came back from surgery crying, so we spent some time just sitting together blowing bubbles. He was very sad to see us leave today, but I assured him we would be back to play next week.
For part of my playtime with Wednesday I was holding Bona (I wish I could write his real name on here because I love to say it!). He was so playful and would mimic everything that Wednesday did. It has been so great to watch how far Bona has come under Danielle’s care. He used to be a baby who just lay in his bed and watched the world pass by. But now he is so engaged and interactive. He sits up and plays and giggles and talks and mimics. It has been so great to see.
Joe and Missy came back today for physio. They looked so great! They were shy at first, but soon warmed up and I got my fair share of hugs and kisses. I was really glad to have such an uneventful day so I could spend some quality time playing and saying goodbye to them. I tried to tell Joe that I would be going home to America next week, so this was our forever goodbye. I don’t really think he got what I was saying, though. He repeated America and home and smiled really big. He did give me a big hug, though. It has been so amazing to watch him heal – physically and emotionally – during his time here. He was with me from the day I got here and has come such a long way. He used to be so withdrawn and scared. Now he is confident and full of life. It has been such an amazing transition to watch.
I also spent quite a bit of time with Lindy. She is a the little girl who had one of her legs amputated due to meningitis. She has such a sweet spirit and is always smiling and waving when we walk by. Caroline has been doing a lot of work with her and will actually be using Lindy and another girl, who had her legs amputated due to the same disease, for her case study to present to the hospital trust. The other little girl was never prepared for her amputation prior to surgery. She went in not knowing what was happening and came out with both her legs gone. Needless to say, the majority of interventions with her were centered on damage control. It’s difficult to help a little girl trust again when something like that has happened. I can only guess what she was imagining was going to happen each time she went in for surgery. Lindy on the other hand benefited from a great prep session with Caroline. They used a blank cloth doll and, with the help of a translator, performed surgery to remove the doll’s leg. Lindy was not happy with this thought (understandably so), but Caroline explained the need for her “really bad sick” leg to be removed and Lindy eventually came to understand. She has coped remarkably well since the surgery. Her story is such a contrast compared to the other little girl. There’s no doubt that Lindy will continue to encounter challenges and obstacles, but she is in the process of developing the coping skills she has gained to face those challenges as they come. It is great to see.
Tomorrow I leave for my safari in Kruger National Park, so I won’t be back on the blog until Monday night or Tuesday. Craig – the self described skinny ranger – will be waiting at the airport tomorrow to take us on our adventure. If we don’t come back, try checking with the lions! Have a great weekend! It’s your last one without me! ☺
Thursday, April 23, 2009
walk in love
This morning before going to work I read Ephesians 5:2, which says, “Walk in love.” A few verses later, Ephesians 5:8 says “walk as children of light.” I decided to center my day on these two verses and focus on walking in love and light.
Today’s little revelation: you never know how someone will respond to you or your actions, or what little thing you do will make a difference in someone’s life. But as we walk in love and light, we can be assured that lives will be touched by the spirit we bring.
It’s always interesting to walk on the ward after a weekend or a holiday. Faces brighten up and begin smiling as soon as the Child Life team walks on the floor – light. One little boy saw me from the end of the hallway and set out in a dead sprint straight into my arms. He clung on to me in an amazing hug. I finally pulled away and saw that his eyes were watery. I asked what was wrong, but he just hugged me. I had spent a bit of time with this little boy and his friend on Tuesday. To me it just seemed like normal every day interventions. We played and laughed. I tried to set boundaries. They tried to push limits. There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. His perception of what we shared, however, was obviously much greater. The little 7-year-old boy doesn’t have any family and has come to the hospital to await surgery to remove some of the keloid scars that have formed all over his body. The small amount of love and attention I was able to share with him obviously had a much bigger effect than I ever thought it would.
After my hug session was over, I went to see why there was crying coming from the bay I had been assigned to. Mo, a 6-year-old boy I’ve been working with, was sitting in his bed, staring out his window and crying. Mo has been pretty traumatized by his experience here in the hospital. Only within the last few days has he begun to open up, laugh and play. His mother, however, is usually with him and I noticed she wasn’t around this morning. One of the sisters got Mo down from his bed and took him into the hall. I think she was trying to get him to stop crying, but it didn’t help. I followed them out and took Mo with me. He wanted to go to the end of the hall to the doors that exited off the ward. I held him up so he could look out the windows and watch for his mother. I kept reminding him that his Mother would be back, that she had only left briefly. He began to calm. I walked him back to his room and held him on my lap until his mom returned. I wasn’t really sure what Mo thought of me helping him this morning. At first he was very resistant to my attention and he never completely appeared to feel comfortable. But later today, he finished a game I had given him to play and followed me out to the hall to give it to me. His mother told me that he wanted to be sure to return it to me himself. It was a small gesture, but I took it as a symbol of the trusting relationship we have built. I was talking to some of the mothers later that day and informed them than next week would be my last week at the hospital. Mo’s mom said, “You will be missed. You are nice for the children.” Simple words, yet to me they were precious. Up until this point, I had never been sure how Mo and his mother felt about my interventions. I really didn’t think what I had been doing was making much of a difference. But as we walk in love and in light we are able to impact lives far greater than we ever imagined.
A little (I should say big) baby in my bay today was tearful when her mother stepped out to take a shower. I walked over to her and placed a block at her feet. She looked at the block and then stared at me. I tried to engage her in play, but she just kept staring at me with this “who are you and why are you not my mom” look on her face. I did everything I could think of, but nothing seemed to amuse her. Rather than scare her, which was what I thought I was doing, I left her alone. As soon as I walked away, she started to cry. I went back to her crib and this time she moved toward me like she wanted to be picked up. I held her on my lap and she rested her head against my shoulder. We played and played until her mom came back. Again my perception had been off, but as I continued to focus on walking in love (no matter what kind of response I felt like I was receiving in return) I could be used in a number of ways to bring comfort. It was a good lesson for me to learn to always walk in love and light – no matter what the response from others.
Harry, a 10-year-old boy, came in over the holiday. His family is not around, so he has been alone during his admission. Older children, even in the US, are often held to much higher expectations by staff. We forget that the hospital environment can be just as frightening to them. I could tell Harry was nervous, but trying to act beyond his years. I followed him and a sister into the treatment room for his dressing change. He was trying so hard to hold it all together, but as soon as the dressing started to be cut away he began to cry. I asked if he wanted to hold my hand and he squeezed it tight. I sat down next to him and let him lay his head against my shoulder. He only speaks Afrikaans, but I reassured him, with some English and a couple Afrikaans words, that he was brave and it was okay for him to cry. After his treatment we went back to his room and played a game of Connect Four. Again, I couldn’t really tell how deeply we were connecting – sometimes the older kids take a while longer to build that trusting relationship. Between games, I prepped Harry for theatre. He nodded that he understood, but I could tell he was worried. The porter came to pick Harry up. I walked him to the trolley. He looked up at me and asked, “Will you come with me?” Again, it was such a small request, but it verified that Harry knew my role and had learned to trust me as a support system. My role with him in theatre was very minimal. We tried to talk, but our languages were too different. I basically just held his hand and spoke with an assuring voice as he received the anesthesia and drifted off.
I think my experiment to walk in love and light today really worked. Even in those times I didn’t feel like I was making an impact, that attempt to walk out love in all situations proved effective as kids and families responded in positive ways. What a great day!
Today’s little revelation: you never know how someone will respond to you or your actions, or what little thing you do will make a difference in someone’s life. But as we walk in love and light, we can be assured that lives will be touched by the spirit we bring.
It’s always interesting to walk on the ward after a weekend or a holiday. Faces brighten up and begin smiling as soon as the Child Life team walks on the floor – light. One little boy saw me from the end of the hallway and set out in a dead sprint straight into my arms. He clung on to me in an amazing hug. I finally pulled away and saw that his eyes were watery. I asked what was wrong, but he just hugged me. I had spent a bit of time with this little boy and his friend on Tuesday. To me it just seemed like normal every day interventions. We played and laughed. I tried to set boundaries. They tried to push limits. There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary. His perception of what we shared, however, was obviously much greater. The little 7-year-old boy doesn’t have any family and has come to the hospital to await surgery to remove some of the keloid scars that have formed all over his body. The small amount of love and attention I was able to share with him obviously had a much bigger effect than I ever thought it would.
After my hug session was over, I went to see why there was crying coming from the bay I had been assigned to. Mo, a 6-year-old boy I’ve been working with, was sitting in his bed, staring out his window and crying. Mo has been pretty traumatized by his experience here in the hospital. Only within the last few days has he begun to open up, laugh and play. His mother, however, is usually with him and I noticed she wasn’t around this morning. One of the sisters got Mo down from his bed and took him into the hall. I think she was trying to get him to stop crying, but it didn’t help. I followed them out and took Mo with me. He wanted to go to the end of the hall to the doors that exited off the ward. I held him up so he could look out the windows and watch for his mother. I kept reminding him that his Mother would be back, that she had only left briefly. He began to calm. I walked him back to his room and held him on my lap until his mom returned. I wasn’t really sure what Mo thought of me helping him this morning. At first he was very resistant to my attention and he never completely appeared to feel comfortable. But later today, he finished a game I had given him to play and followed me out to the hall to give it to me. His mother told me that he wanted to be sure to return it to me himself. It was a small gesture, but I took it as a symbol of the trusting relationship we have built. I was talking to some of the mothers later that day and informed them than next week would be my last week at the hospital. Mo’s mom said, “You will be missed. You are nice for the children.” Simple words, yet to me they were precious. Up until this point, I had never been sure how Mo and his mother felt about my interventions. I really didn’t think what I had been doing was making much of a difference. But as we walk in love and in light we are able to impact lives far greater than we ever imagined.
A little (I should say big) baby in my bay today was tearful when her mother stepped out to take a shower. I walked over to her and placed a block at her feet. She looked at the block and then stared at me. I tried to engage her in play, but she just kept staring at me with this “who are you and why are you not my mom” look on her face. I did everything I could think of, but nothing seemed to amuse her. Rather than scare her, which was what I thought I was doing, I left her alone. As soon as I walked away, she started to cry. I went back to her crib and this time she moved toward me like she wanted to be picked up. I held her on my lap and she rested her head against my shoulder. We played and played until her mom came back. Again my perception had been off, but as I continued to focus on walking in love (no matter what kind of response I felt like I was receiving in return) I could be used in a number of ways to bring comfort. It was a good lesson for me to learn to always walk in love and light – no matter what the response from others.
Harry, a 10-year-old boy, came in over the holiday. His family is not around, so he has been alone during his admission. Older children, even in the US, are often held to much higher expectations by staff. We forget that the hospital environment can be just as frightening to them. I could tell Harry was nervous, but trying to act beyond his years. I followed him and a sister into the treatment room for his dressing change. He was trying so hard to hold it all together, but as soon as the dressing started to be cut away he began to cry. I asked if he wanted to hold my hand and he squeezed it tight. I sat down next to him and let him lay his head against my shoulder. He only speaks Afrikaans, but I reassured him, with some English and a couple Afrikaans words, that he was brave and it was okay for him to cry. After his treatment we went back to his room and played a game of Connect Four. Again, I couldn’t really tell how deeply we were connecting – sometimes the older kids take a while longer to build that trusting relationship. Between games, I prepped Harry for theatre. He nodded that he understood, but I could tell he was worried. The porter came to pick Harry up. I walked him to the trolley. He looked up at me and asked, “Will you come with me?” Again, it was such a small request, but it verified that Harry knew my role and had learned to trust me as a support system. My role with him in theatre was very minimal. We tried to talk, but our languages were too different. I basically just held his hand and spoke with an assuring voice as he received the anesthesia and drifted off.
I think my experiment to walk in love and light today really worked. Even in those times I didn’t feel like I was making an impact, that attempt to walk out love in all situations proved effective as kids and families responded in positive ways. What a great day!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
voting day
Today was Voting Day - another public holiday here in South Africa (only 2 more to go during my time here). I have heard a little about the politics involved in this day, but not enough to blog my opinions. I have actually learned to avoid political conversations most of the time - especially with cab drivers. They usually end up centered around US politics (which I hate anyway) and how George Bush started all the wars in Africa - even the ones before he was president if you can believe it. It's pretty ridiculous (even for the non-Bush supporters) to listen to and usually leads to really awkward cab rides, so we try to stick to the weather. :)
All these public holidays are not as great as they sound. I would have much rather been in the hospital with the kids, but instead spent it hiking up Table Mountain. Don't get me wrong, it was a blast and an awesome workout, but I only have 5 days left in the hospital. It was just Jamie, Danielle and I on the hike. We made it up in 1 hour 11 minutes, so we felt pretty awesome. :)
I know this is a short blog tonight, but I think I'm craving some sleep and my day really wasn't that eventful. I mean, I enjoyed it, but I'm not so sure it would be that exciting from the other side of the blog. :)
Back to work tomorrow, so more fun to come!
All these public holidays are not as great as they sound. I would have much rather been in the hospital with the kids, but instead spent it hiking up Table Mountain. Don't get me wrong, it was a blast and an awesome workout, but I only have 5 days left in the hospital. It was just Jamie, Danielle and I on the hike. We made it up in 1 hour 11 minutes, so we felt pretty awesome. :)
I know this is a short blog tonight, but I think I'm craving some sleep and my day really wasn't that eventful. I mean, I enjoyed it, but I'm not so sure it would be that exciting from the other side of the blog. :)
Back to work tomorrow, so more fun to come!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
the little things
Any Child Life Specialist can tell you what a big difference the little things make. Letting a child sit up for a procedure, giving a patient the choice of which arm to try an IV in, allowing mom or dad to hold the child’s hand, explaining what you’re going to do before you do it, changing a word to be more child friendly: these are all little acts which can result in big differences in a child’s ability to cope and cooperate.
I was helping a little boy finish up with his dressing change today when Lindy was carried in for her dressing. She saw the boy I was working with was tearful and immediately began to cry. Unfortunately there is not the time, nor the space here to keep treatments private. There are often 2 or 3 children having their dressings changed at one time. There aren’t curtains to close, so the kids end up watching the other children and seeing their wounds. It definitely makes the experience scarier for many of them. Lindy’s mom laid her on the table and I stepped in to provide support and ease the transition away from her mom. Lindy recently had one of her legs amputated due to meningitis. Her other leg is severely infected and the doctors are fighting to keep it. Her dressing change today was for the wound on her nonamputated leg. Lindy cried when her mom stepped away, aware of her treatment to come. She laid on the table and looked at me with scared eyes. She only speaks Xhosa, but I spoke to her anyway, trying to put her at ease with the sound of my voice. I walked over to her and helped her sit up. I positioned myself behind her on the bed and allowed her to lean against me with my arm around her in a protective embrace. She calmed immediately. She remained calm throughout the whole procedure, sometimes watching the removal of the old bandages, sometimes blowing bubbles. The simple act of allowing her to sit up made a huge difference in her ability to cope. Often times kids are made to lay down because staff think they are more cooperative or easier to hold or that’s just the way they have always done it. However, if you think about it, the simple act of laying down puts you in a very vulnerable position. Imagine laying down, not being able to see what was going on and being expected to just trust that the painful event being done to you was somehow helping you get better. Pretty scary. The simple act of allowing a child to sit up for a procedure gives them control, comfort, and aids in their cooperation. Lindy was a perfect example of this. I was so proud of her!
I’ve decided one of my favorite moments here is when a child sneaks out his or her first smile. There seems to be a transition period when the kids are too sick or too scared to engage, laugh and smile. But with consistent support they finally reach that moment when they slip out a smile. It’s so much fun to see! Sometimes that one smile opens a flood gate of happiness and laughter and everyone looks on in amazement. Other times it takes a few more days of trust building and support to finally release unrestrained smiles, but eventually all the kids have reached that smiling point. I had a couple "first smile" experiences today and it made me so happy. One little boy who had been so quiet and reserved laughed and played for quite a while today. He even waved goodbye to me when I left. It may seem like a small success, but these are some of my most treasured moments.
The one word that all the kids learn very quickly to say in English is “bubbles.” I don’t know what I ever did at home without bubbles strapped to my neck. These kids can play forever with a tiny bottle of bubbles. They blow them, pop them, spill them, play alone, play in groups, fight over them. Bubbles are seriously my best friends. It has never been easier to build rapport. I just walk up, blow a bubble and am immediately best friends with a patient and his parent. Kids who have been away from the hospital and come back for outpatient clinic come running up to us as soon as they walk through the door. For a brief moment I humor myself enough to think they are excited to see me, but then they plunge for the purple dolphin hanging from my neck and scream “BUBBLES!” instantly bursting my personal bubble. ☺ The lack of bubble mania in the US will definitely be one of my biggest adjustments.
--
I’ve decided everyone in Cape Town is in marketing. Whether it’s the guy in the mini bus hollering “Cape Town!” while hanging out the window, or the “stranded visitor” trying to scam you out of your money – everyone has a marketing scheme and a story to sell you at a negotiable price. There is no greater place to witness the world of marketing than the market – I just realized that’s probably where the name came from! ☺ Unfortunately, all the vendors appear to have gotten their degree from the same university and therefore have the same marketing plan. I can’t tell you how many times I have been the “first customer of the day” and therefore entitled to a discount price. Every tent I went to said the same thing. “Take your time. Free to look. I give you good price. Special price for you.” I must be the luckiest girl in the world because I happened upon every special offer there was today! I started to determine whether or not I was going to buy things from people based on the originality of their marketing gig. I can’t tell you how tempted I was to buy the candle from the guy who told me, “Don’t walk in the dark,” just because it was one I hadn’t heard yet. Needless to say, I am definitely not the best market shopper. I feel horrible about haggling and even worse when I don’t buy things. So I bought a couple things I knew I wanted and decided try get up my nerve to try again another day.
People keep asking me what I miss most about the US (other than the obvious friends and family). I have to tell you it’s kind of hard to make that list. Cape Town pretty much has all the amenities of home, but I have come up with a very short list of some of the small items…
1. Being able to walk without having my ninja moves ready and waiting to spring on any unsuspecting mugger. Along with this is the paranoia that sets in every now and then which drives me crazy. Today I freaked out in the market thinking my wallet had been stolen from the purse I had been clutching the whole time. I thought it must have been a pretty amazing pickpocket until I remembered I’d left my wallet at home for that very reason.
2. Being able to tip my waiter based on how well they keep my water glass filled. Asking for tap water makes me feel like I have a horn growing out of my forehead and getting the glass filled up again is relatively unheard of. One waitress actually brought us a pitcher of water the other day – she received a very large tip. ☺
3. Paying for electricity after you use it – not before. The opposite is true for cell phones and internet.
5. Having the right of way when crossing the street. Pedestrians NEVER have the right of way here…even in cross walks. The little green walking man may be beckoning you across the street, but what he isn’t tell you is that car that’s about to turn the corner doesn’t really care that you’re half way across the street. In fact, he finds it necessary to speed up and lay on his horn just to remind you that you do NOT have the right away. You literally take your life in your hands every time you step off the curb.
That’s the top 5 at this point in my day. ☺ Seriously though. I love this place and I have a far greater list of things I will miss from here than things I can complain about. It’s a beautiful city and I have to go now so that I can take advantage of my last few opportunities to experience it.
I was helping a little boy finish up with his dressing change today when Lindy was carried in for her dressing. She saw the boy I was working with was tearful and immediately began to cry. Unfortunately there is not the time, nor the space here to keep treatments private. There are often 2 or 3 children having their dressings changed at one time. There aren’t curtains to close, so the kids end up watching the other children and seeing their wounds. It definitely makes the experience scarier for many of them. Lindy’s mom laid her on the table and I stepped in to provide support and ease the transition away from her mom. Lindy recently had one of her legs amputated due to meningitis. Her other leg is severely infected and the doctors are fighting to keep it. Her dressing change today was for the wound on her nonamputated leg. Lindy cried when her mom stepped away, aware of her treatment to come. She laid on the table and looked at me with scared eyes. She only speaks Xhosa, but I spoke to her anyway, trying to put her at ease with the sound of my voice. I walked over to her and helped her sit up. I positioned myself behind her on the bed and allowed her to lean against me with my arm around her in a protective embrace. She calmed immediately. She remained calm throughout the whole procedure, sometimes watching the removal of the old bandages, sometimes blowing bubbles. The simple act of allowing her to sit up made a huge difference in her ability to cope. Often times kids are made to lay down because staff think they are more cooperative or easier to hold or that’s just the way they have always done it. However, if you think about it, the simple act of laying down puts you in a very vulnerable position. Imagine laying down, not being able to see what was going on and being expected to just trust that the painful event being done to you was somehow helping you get better. Pretty scary. The simple act of allowing a child to sit up for a procedure gives them control, comfort, and aids in their cooperation. Lindy was a perfect example of this. I was so proud of her!
I’ve decided one of my favorite moments here is when a child sneaks out his or her first smile. There seems to be a transition period when the kids are too sick or too scared to engage, laugh and smile. But with consistent support they finally reach that moment when they slip out a smile. It’s so much fun to see! Sometimes that one smile opens a flood gate of happiness and laughter and everyone looks on in amazement. Other times it takes a few more days of trust building and support to finally release unrestrained smiles, but eventually all the kids have reached that smiling point. I had a couple "first smile" experiences today and it made me so happy. One little boy who had been so quiet and reserved laughed and played for quite a while today. He even waved goodbye to me when I left. It may seem like a small success, but these are some of my most treasured moments.
The one word that all the kids learn very quickly to say in English is “bubbles.” I don’t know what I ever did at home without bubbles strapped to my neck. These kids can play forever with a tiny bottle of bubbles. They blow them, pop them, spill them, play alone, play in groups, fight over them. Bubbles are seriously my best friends. It has never been easier to build rapport. I just walk up, blow a bubble and am immediately best friends with a patient and his parent. Kids who have been away from the hospital and come back for outpatient clinic come running up to us as soon as they walk through the door. For a brief moment I humor myself enough to think they are excited to see me, but then they plunge for the purple dolphin hanging from my neck and scream “BUBBLES!” instantly bursting my personal bubble. ☺ The lack of bubble mania in the US will definitely be one of my biggest adjustments.
--
I’ve decided everyone in Cape Town is in marketing. Whether it’s the guy in the mini bus hollering “Cape Town!” while hanging out the window, or the “stranded visitor” trying to scam you out of your money – everyone has a marketing scheme and a story to sell you at a negotiable price. There is no greater place to witness the world of marketing than the market – I just realized that’s probably where the name came from! ☺ Unfortunately, all the vendors appear to have gotten their degree from the same university and therefore have the same marketing plan. I can’t tell you how many times I have been the “first customer of the day” and therefore entitled to a discount price. Every tent I went to said the same thing. “Take your time. Free to look. I give you good price. Special price for you.” I must be the luckiest girl in the world because I happened upon every special offer there was today! I started to determine whether or not I was going to buy things from people based on the originality of their marketing gig. I can’t tell you how tempted I was to buy the candle from the guy who told me, “Don’t walk in the dark,” just because it was one I hadn’t heard yet. Needless to say, I am definitely not the best market shopper. I feel horrible about haggling and even worse when I don’t buy things. So I bought a couple things I knew I wanted and decided try get up my nerve to try again another day.
People keep asking me what I miss most about the US (other than the obvious friends and family). I have to tell you it’s kind of hard to make that list. Cape Town pretty much has all the amenities of home, but I have come up with a very short list of some of the small items…
1. Being able to walk without having my ninja moves ready and waiting to spring on any unsuspecting mugger. Along with this is the paranoia that sets in every now and then which drives me crazy. Today I freaked out in the market thinking my wallet had been stolen from the purse I had been clutching the whole time. I thought it must have been a pretty amazing pickpocket until I remembered I’d left my wallet at home for that very reason.
2. Being able to tip my waiter based on how well they keep my water glass filled. Asking for tap water makes me feel like I have a horn growing out of my forehead and getting the glass filled up again is relatively unheard of. One waitress actually brought us a pitcher of water the other day – she received a very large tip. ☺
3. Paying for electricity after you use it – not before. The opposite is true for cell phones and internet.
5. Having the right of way when crossing the street. Pedestrians NEVER have the right of way here…even in cross walks. The little green walking man may be beckoning you across the street, but what he isn’t tell you is that car that’s about to turn the corner doesn’t really care that you’re half way across the street. In fact, he finds it necessary to speed up and lay on his horn just to remind you that you do NOT have the right away. You literally take your life in your hands every time you step off the curb.
That’s the top 5 at this point in my day. ☺ Seriously though. I love this place and I have a far greater list of things I will miss from here than things I can complain about. It’s a beautiful city and I have to go now so that I can take advantage of my last few opportunities to experience it.
Monday, April 20, 2009
stepping in for a moment
From Friday 17 April
The kids were in a very peculiar mood today. Joe was especially grumpy – fighting with the other kids and totally testing his limits. I have a suspicion it had to do with him having to share my attention with other kids, since it seemed to peek at times when other kids were sitting on my lap. It caused quite a scene during our attempted playgroup though. One minute all the kids are having a blast and the next their flipping each other off and saying words in Afrikaans that I’m are not nice words. I know most of their frustration comes from having to share when they are used to not having much. It’s a difficult concept to be teaching them. At one point today I had to put Othathali and Joe in their beds (which are over sized cribs) with the rails up and the curtain drawn. I think we had all just had enough. Taking a timeout from them did give me some time to give some personal attention to Missy though. That made her happy. She came alive again, smiling and laughing with me. I was glad to see that positive turn around.
Othathali was discharged today and Joe calmed down a lot after she left. At one point he was sitting in bed singing to himself. I heard him singing the “Cast your burdens. Come to Jesus, for He cares for you…. Higher, higher, higher, higher, etc.” song. You know the one I’m talking about? Everyone sings it when they come back from Africa. Anyway, I had learned it from my cousin when she came back from Africa, so I started singing it with him. He was so excited that I knew the song. After that he sang, “I’ve got peace like a river.” It was really fun to sit there and sing with him. I absolutely love African voices singing – especially the kids. It was also a neat connection to make with Joe. When a patient makes it apparent that they cope with spiritual tools, it opens a door to offer ministry that I’m not always allowed to give, which is a neat connection.
Friday night Tami, Caroline and I set out for our “Girls Weekend.” Tami and I thought it was funny to call it that – since we don’t have any other kinds of weekends here, but the concept was the same. ☺ We rented a car and drove to Stellenbosch. It’s an adorable little town out in the vineyards. We settled in at a little hotel and ate at a really cute bistro before calling it a night.
From Saturday 18 April
We woke up Saturday and explored Stellenbosch. It’s an adorably quaint town with lots of shops and restaurants. It felt so peaceful after the hustle and bustle of the city. No matter how much I’ve tried to blend in to this city – I am definitely a country girl at heart.
After exploring the town, we continued on the rest of our road trip around the cape. It was a little rainy, but still beautiful. Along our drive we passed by some of the townships in the area. This was the first time I had the opportunity to observe life in these areas. It’s very different from the city. People live in tiny tin houses crammed together. It’s very dirty and not very safe. My one regret about this trip was that I didn’t get the opportunity to get in and work in the townships. It’s not a place you can go on your own and the opportunity didn’t present itself, so I have to accept that perhaps it wasn’t the place for me this time. Danielle, one of our new CLS’s, however is going to start burn outreach and education programs to some of these areas so I’m really excited to see how that turns out. There is so much poverty in these townships and they stretch for miles and miles. It made such an impact on me just to see them.
We stopped at a number of beach, fishing, cape towns along our route, taking our time and exploring what the area had to offer. We visited the penguins at Boulder Beach. They were everywhere! We ended up in Simon’s Town and stumbled upon the cutest bed and breakfast - Cornerhouse. The French woman that owned it was named Briggitt and she took us in for the night.
Oh! I almost forgot! I was able to drive on the left side of the road today for the first time ever. The hardest part was remembering the turn signal was on the right side instead of the left. I only turned the windshield wipers on a few times trying to trade lanes. ☺ It was almost weirder to drive after not doing so for 6 weeks than it was to be driving on the left side of the road. I had a fun time (not sure if Caroline and Tami felt the same way)! ☺
From Sunday 19 April
Sunday we woke up to find the cape totally covered in dense fog and rain. We had planned this to be the day we took the big trip down to Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope. We were slightly bummed, but decided to proceed as planned – regretting that we hadn’t brought the appropriate rain gear with us. After a breakfast of coddled eggs, we headed to the tip of the continent (well – the southwestern most tip at least). It rained most of the time, but the fog lifted enough ever now and then for us to see where we were and add just a bit of mysteriousness to the morning.
At Cape Point we found a trail out to the old lighthouse, but the sign said it was a dangerous trail and would take 1.5 hours to complete, so we didn’t take it. I was pretty bummed because I felt like I hadn’t really been to the tip of the cape unless I walked to the end. We all had flip flops on and the fog kept rolling in and out, so we decided it wasn’t safe. When we got to the gift shop, though, I asked one of the workers about the trail. She said it wasn’t dangerous, we could do it in 40 mins out and back, and our flip-flops would be just fine. We made sure she knew what we looked like before leaving for the hike – just in case. ☺ We kept thinking what a great scary movie the three of us would make, but thankfully we made it to the end and back – in the 40 minutes without any problems. The fog even lifted enough for us to see some of the other mountain ranges. Caroline commented that God must have lifted the fog for us because by the time we got back it had settled back over our path. We were very grateful.
After Cape Point we drove to the Cape of Good Hope – the most southwestern tip of Africa. Some people think it’s the most southern, but if you look at a map you see it’s not – hence the most southwestern. It was so beautiful to watch the waves crashing against the rock…and to feel so close to Antarctica. ☺
We continued our trip along the cape – watching baboons and ostriches along the way. It was such a wonderful time with my good friends. We were discussing on the way back how amazing it is that just a few weeks ago we didn’t know each other and now we are great friends. It has been such a blessing. I told them how worried I was about the friends I would make on this trip, and that they had been a wonderful answer to my prayers. I can’t say again how thankful I am for them and for the wonderful time we’ve been able to spend together.
From today, 20 April 2009
My last Monday at the hospital (next week is – you guessed it – another holiday!). I was able to spend some quality play time with a couple of the boys and saw some amazing turn arounds. Play has become such an integral tool for me here. I know that’s what CLS is all about, but sometimes at home some tend to shay away from that role because other see it as – “just playing with the kids.” But when you understand the importance of play, the purpose it serves, and the impact it has on kids and their ability to heal, you realize that there is no greater tool than the ability to “just play.” So I have embraced that role in my work here and hope to take it back to the US in full force. ☺ The 2 boys I played with today had really rough weeks last week. One of them, Will, had spent last week just lying in his bed. He didn’t want to play, but would just lay and let people rub his legs. Today, he was full of play! He laughed and sat with me, read books, and blew tons of bubbles! It was so amazing to watch his interactions and see what a difference had occurred in him. The other little boy I had mostly worked with in dressing changes. He never really seemed very fond of playing with me. I think he associated me with the treatment room and didn’t enjoy that reminder. But today we were able to make huge play strides. He read books, blew bubbles, and laughed and played in ways he hasn’t done since he’s been here. It will be interesting to see how his dressing goes tomorrow. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to build that trusting play relationship, I hope he can accept my support in the treatment room as well. It was amazing to see and an awesome reminder of the power of play!
I’m having quite the range of emotions as I prepare to leave this place. This South Africa Project is not mine. I was just here to provide support to those who are developing the program. However, it’s difficult to come and invest yourself in something and then walk completely away from it, never knowing if it will cross your path again. But as I’ve struggled with this – I’ve realized this experience is not about me – it never has been. This experience is about the opportunity to touch the lives of others and lift them up. If that means stepping in for a moment and then stepping away for a lifetime, then I am thankful for that opportunity. I’ve learned the importance of not lifting myself up, but lifting up others. Not worrying about my own success, but how to help others succeed. I think in the world I come from, we focus so much on our own successes and how to get ahead. But while I’ve been here, I’ve been learning the lesson of how much greater joy comes when we help others succeed and when we lift them up. I know that my life lies open before me. I trust that as I turn it over to God, He will continue to guide me through this fabulous adventure of life in ways far greater than I ever imagined!
The kids were in a very peculiar mood today. Joe was especially grumpy – fighting with the other kids and totally testing his limits. I have a suspicion it had to do with him having to share my attention with other kids, since it seemed to peek at times when other kids were sitting on my lap. It caused quite a scene during our attempted playgroup though. One minute all the kids are having a blast and the next their flipping each other off and saying words in Afrikaans that I’m are not nice words. I know most of their frustration comes from having to share when they are used to not having much. It’s a difficult concept to be teaching them. At one point today I had to put Othathali and Joe in their beds (which are over sized cribs) with the rails up and the curtain drawn. I think we had all just had enough. Taking a timeout from them did give me some time to give some personal attention to Missy though. That made her happy. She came alive again, smiling and laughing with me. I was glad to see that positive turn around.
Othathali was discharged today and Joe calmed down a lot after she left. At one point he was sitting in bed singing to himself. I heard him singing the “Cast your burdens. Come to Jesus, for He cares for you…. Higher, higher, higher, higher, etc.” song. You know the one I’m talking about? Everyone sings it when they come back from Africa. Anyway, I had learned it from my cousin when she came back from Africa, so I started singing it with him. He was so excited that I knew the song. After that he sang, “I’ve got peace like a river.” It was really fun to sit there and sing with him. I absolutely love African voices singing – especially the kids. It was also a neat connection to make with Joe. When a patient makes it apparent that they cope with spiritual tools, it opens a door to offer ministry that I’m not always allowed to give, which is a neat connection.
Friday night Tami, Caroline and I set out for our “Girls Weekend.” Tami and I thought it was funny to call it that – since we don’t have any other kinds of weekends here, but the concept was the same. ☺ We rented a car and drove to Stellenbosch. It’s an adorable little town out in the vineyards. We settled in at a little hotel and ate at a really cute bistro before calling it a night.
From Saturday 18 April
We woke up Saturday and explored Stellenbosch. It’s an adorably quaint town with lots of shops and restaurants. It felt so peaceful after the hustle and bustle of the city. No matter how much I’ve tried to blend in to this city – I am definitely a country girl at heart.
After exploring the town, we continued on the rest of our road trip around the cape. It was a little rainy, but still beautiful. Along our drive we passed by some of the townships in the area. This was the first time I had the opportunity to observe life in these areas. It’s very different from the city. People live in tiny tin houses crammed together. It’s very dirty and not very safe. My one regret about this trip was that I didn’t get the opportunity to get in and work in the townships. It’s not a place you can go on your own and the opportunity didn’t present itself, so I have to accept that perhaps it wasn’t the place for me this time. Danielle, one of our new CLS’s, however is going to start burn outreach and education programs to some of these areas so I’m really excited to see how that turns out. There is so much poverty in these townships and they stretch for miles and miles. It made such an impact on me just to see them.
We stopped at a number of beach, fishing, cape towns along our route, taking our time and exploring what the area had to offer. We visited the penguins at Boulder Beach. They were everywhere! We ended up in Simon’s Town and stumbled upon the cutest bed and breakfast - Cornerhouse. The French woman that owned it was named Briggitt and she took us in for the night.
Oh! I almost forgot! I was able to drive on the left side of the road today for the first time ever. The hardest part was remembering the turn signal was on the right side instead of the left. I only turned the windshield wipers on a few times trying to trade lanes. ☺ It was almost weirder to drive after not doing so for 6 weeks than it was to be driving on the left side of the road. I had a fun time (not sure if Caroline and Tami felt the same way)! ☺
From Sunday 19 April
Sunday we woke up to find the cape totally covered in dense fog and rain. We had planned this to be the day we took the big trip down to Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope. We were slightly bummed, but decided to proceed as planned – regretting that we hadn’t brought the appropriate rain gear with us. After a breakfast of coddled eggs, we headed to the tip of the continent (well – the southwestern most tip at least). It rained most of the time, but the fog lifted enough ever now and then for us to see where we were and add just a bit of mysteriousness to the morning.
At Cape Point we found a trail out to the old lighthouse, but the sign said it was a dangerous trail and would take 1.5 hours to complete, so we didn’t take it. I was pretty bummed because I felt like I hadn’t really been to the tip of the cape unless I walked to the end. We all had flip flops on and the fog kept rolling in and out, so we decided it wasn’t safe. When we got to the gift shop, though, I asked one of the workers about the trail. She said it wasn’t dangerous, we could do it in 40 mins out and back, and our flip-flops would be just fine. We made sure she knew what we looked like before leaving for the hike – just in case. ☺ We kept thinking what a great scary movie the three of us would make, but thankfully we made it to the end and back – in the 40 minutes without any problems. The fog even lifted enough for us to see some of the other mountain ranges. Caroline commented that God must have lifted the fog for us because by the time we got back it had settled back over our path. We were very grateful.
After Cape Point we drove to the Cape of Good Hope – the most southwestern tip of Africa. Some people think it’s the most southern, but if you look at a map you see it’s not – hence the most southwestern. It was so beautiful to watch the waves crashing against the rock…and to feel so close to Antarctica. ☺
We continued our trip along the cape – watching baboons and ostriches along the way. It was such a wonderful time with my good friends. We were discussing on the way back how amazing it is that just a few weeks ago we didn’t know each other and now we are great friends. It has been such a blessing. I told them how worried I was about the friends I would make on this trip, and that they had been a wonderful answer to my prayers. I can’t say again how thankful I am for them and for the wonderful time we’ve been able to spend together.
From today, 20 April 2009
My last Monday at the hospital (next week is – you guessed it – another holiday!). I was able to spend some quality play time with a couple of the boys and saw some amazing turn arounds. Play has become such an integral tool for me here. I know that’s what CLS is all about, but sometimes at home some tend to shay away from that role because other see it as – “just playing with the kids.” But when you understand the importance of play, the purpose it serves, and the impact it has on kids and their ability to heal, you realize that there is no greater tool than the ability to “just play.” So I have embraced that role in my work here and hope to take it back to the US in full force. ☺ The 2 boys I played with today had really rough weeks last week. One of them, Will, had spent last week just lying in his bed. He didn’t want to play, but would just lay and let people rub his legs. Today, he was full of play! He laughed and sat with me, read books, and blew tons of bubbles! It was so amazing to watch his interactions and see what a difference had occurred in him. The other little boy I had mostly worked with in dressing changes. He never really seemed very fond of playing with me. I think he associated me with the treatment room and didn’t enjoy that reminder. But today we were able to make huge play strides. He read books, blew bubbles, and laughed and played in ways he hasn’t done since he’s been here. It will be interesting to see how his dressing goes tomorrow. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to build that trusting play relationship, I hope he can accept my support in the treatment room as well. It was amazing to see and an awesome reminder of the power of play!
I’m having quite the range of emotions as I prepare to leave this place. This South Africa Project is not mine. I was just here to provide support to those who are developing the program. However, it’s difficult to come and invest yourself in something and then walk completely away from it, never knowing if it will cross your path again. But as I’ve struggled with this – I’ve realized this experience is not about me – it never has been. This experience is about the opportunity to touch the lives of others and lift them up. If that means stepping in for a moment and then stepping away for a lifetime, then I am thankful for that opportunity. I’ve learned the importance of not lifting myself up, but lifting up others. Not worrying about my own success, but how to help others succeed. I think in the world I come from, we focus so much on our own successes and how to get ahead. But while I’ve been here, I’ve been learning the lesson of how much greater joy comes when we help others succeed and when we lift them up. I know that my life lies open before me. I trust that as I turn it over to God, He will continue to guide me through this fabulous adventure of life in ways far greater than I ever imagined!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
p.s.
Mom, Erin, and anyone else who reads my blog so diligently and worries when I don't write,
I will be out of town this weekend. Caroline, Tami and I are driving to the Cape of Good Hope. I won't be back until Sunday night, so I won't be blogging all weekend.
Just thought you'd like to know. :)
I will be out of town this weekend. Caroline, Tami and I are driving to the Cape of Good Hope. I won't be back until Sunday night, so I won't be blogging all weekend.
Just thought you'd like to know. :)
2 weeks notice
Today I am officially giving my two weeks notice. Two weeks from today will be my last day working at the Red Cross Children’s Hospital in Cape Town, South Africa. Wow. Writing that feels very real. I’ve known in my head that the end is coming, but my heart is just starting to realize it so I cry pretty easily these days. I apologize that every blog entry from here on out will probably begin with a very similar statement about the ever-nearing end of this journey. Thanks to all of you who have traveled with me. I know some of you will miss my daily ramblings (others probably can’t wait for them to be over!), but hopefully this is only a pause in my adventures and there will be more to come in my life (whether at home or abroad). I am very excited to head home and see you all. I have missed you very much. But I know I will also leave part of myself here in Africa when I go. It sounds very cliché, but these kids have definitely captured my heart and it is very difficult to face leaving that behind.
(I really can’t see what I’m writing right now because the tears are coming full force now, so give me a minute to regroup…)
Joe and Missy were readmitted to the hospital today. They are the siblings I’ve worked with from the day I got here who have totally won my heart. When Joe got to the unit he saw me at the end of the hall. A big smile spread on his face and he ran to greet and hug me. Before I knew what he was doing, he’d planted a big wet one right on my lips (not something I’ve ever let a kid in the hospital do, but it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard). Missy was much more reserved. She looked extremely cautious when she walked on the floor. There was no grand hello from her. She just walked up to me and stood between my legs. She was connected to me for most of the rest of the day – either when I was holding her or she was just standing near enough to touch me. The hospital is such a scary place for her and she needs a little time to readjust to her surroundings.
Othathali went to surgery again today. She has made such improvements in the few weeks we’ve been working together. She was pretty sleepy for surgery today, so I just had her stay laying on her cot when we rolled into theatre. When the mask started blowing air on her face, she turned her head, buried it in the cot and fell back asleep. Rather than fight with her, the doctors simply covered her head with the blanket and placed the tubing inside with her to create a tent with the anesthesia pumping into it. It took a little longer, but it totally worked and Othathali was able to fall asleep peacefully. Have I mentioned how much I love these doctors?!
I’ve been thinking lately of all the encouraging messages I receive from home. Some tell me things like – you’re exactly the right person to be doing this, or we couldn’t have sent anyone better. But I need to take a moment to clarify that for everyone. There is absolutely nothing special about me when it comes to doing this job. There a million of Child Life Specialists more capable of providing better interventions for these kids and education for the staff. I can think of a number of people from my hospital alone who I have wished were here instead of me to provide the care these kids needs. Anyone could be doing the things that I am doing here. The only thing that separates me, and the others here with me, from the others is that we chose to come. We saw a need that we thought we might be able to assist with and we allowed ourselves to be used. We found a need and placed ourselves in a place to meet it – despite our potential inadequacies. As you’ve read in my blog, the interventions that I’ve been able to provide aren’t amazing. The majority of the time, I’m just here to hold a hand, to speak an encouraging word, to offer a shoulder to cry on, or an opportunity to laugh and forget the stress of this place. But because I have been here, and because the need is so great, those opportunities have turned in to life changing experiences. The awesome thing is – anyone can do this, in any place, at any time. You don’t have to come to Africa. You don’t have to work with burn patients. You just have to be able to step into a situation when see a need and allow yourself to be used to fill it.
Today I was on my way out the door when I remembered a couple of stacking cups I had left in a patient’s bed. Since they aren’t technically a big item, I considered testing my luck and hope they were there in the morning. But for some reason it nagged on me and I decided I needed to get them today. I went back to the bay and found that Joe had been taken to the treatment room to have his clips (staples which hold the graft in place) removed. He had been scheduled to have this done in theatre the next day, so I had no idea that it would be going on. I went to the treatment room and found him screaming in pain and fear. Once again, I didn’t use my 6 years of schooling to fish out an amazing trick to make his pain go away. At that point there was really nothing I could do for his pain. The resources are so limited that often kids are just asked to cope with things far beyond what children should have to cope with. So, I sat down and just grabbed the hand he was holding out to me. He looked at me with longing eyes. I sat next to him, put my arm around him and let him bury his head in my shoulder and just cry and scream. There was nothing magical about my intervention. It didn’t make the pain go away. But having someone willing to step into that moment, gave him enough strength to make it through. After his treatment, Joe and I went back to his room. He was quiet and tearful and just wanted to lie in his bed. I helped him up and told him how proud I was of him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some Superman stickers I’d stashed there that morning. He took them and a huge smile lit up his face. “Superman,” he said. I smiled back and said, “You are Superman.” He laughed and said, “Joe. Superman.” He put his fist in the air as if he were flying. I realized in that moment there was absolutely nothing special about me. The true heroes in this story are the kids that deal with these traumas every day. They are the ones who will continue to be here long after I have gone. They will continue to face their fears daily and come out victorious. And hopefully, we as Child Life Specialists and medical staff get the opportunity to walk with them along the way. Joe, you are Superman.
(I really can’t see what I’m writing right now because the tears are coming full force now, so give me a minute to regroup…)
Joe and Missy were readmitted to the hospital today. They are the siblings I’ve worked with from the day I got here who have totally won my heart. When Joe got to the unit he saw me at the end of the hall. A big smile spread on his face and he ran to greet and hug me. Before I knew what he was doing, he’d planted a big wet one right on my lips (not something I’ve ever let a kid in the hospital do, but it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard). Missy was much more reserved. She looked extremely cautious when she walked on the floor. There was no grand hello from her. She just walked up to me and stood between my legs. She was connected to me for most of the rest of the day – either when I was holding her or she was just standing near enough to touch me. The hospital is such a scary place for her and she needs a little time to readjust to her surroundings.
Othathali went to surgery again today. She has made such improvements in the few weeks we’ve been working together. She was pretty sleepy for surgery today, so I just had her stay laying on her cot when we rolled into theatre. When the mask started blowing air on her face, she turned her head, buried it in the cot and fell back asleep. Rather than fight with her, the doctors simply covered her head with the blanket and placed the tubing inside with her to create a tent with the anesthesia pumping into it. It took a little longer, but it totally worked and Othathali was able to fall asleep peacefully. Have I mentioned how much I love these doctors?!
I’ve been thinking lately of all the encouraging messages I receive from home. Some tell me things like – you’re exactly the right person to be doing this, or we couldn’t have sent anyone better. But I need to take a moment to clarify that for everyone. There is absolutely nothing special about me when it comes to doing this job. There a million of Child Life Specialists more capable of providing better interventions for these kids and education for the staff. I can think of a number of people from my hospital alone who I have wished were here instead of me to provide the care these kids needs. Anyone could be doing the things that I am doing here. The only thing that separates me, and the others here with me, from the others is that we chose to come. We saw a need that we thought we might be able to assist with and we allowed ourselves to be used. We found a need and placed ourselves in a place to meet it – despite our potential inadequacies. As you’ve read in my blog, the interventions that I’ve been able to provide aren’t amazing. The majority of the time, I’m just here to hold a hand, to speak an encouraging word, to offer a shoulder to cry on, or an opportunity to laugh and forget the stress of this place. But because I have been here, and because the need is so great, those opportunities have turned in to life changing experiences. The awesome thing is – anyone can do this, in any place, at any time. You don’t have to come to Africa. You don’t have to work with burn patients. You just have to be able to step into a situation when see a need and allow yourself to be used to fill it.
Today I was on my way out the door when I remembered a couple of stacking cups I had left in a patient’s bed. Since they aren’t technically a big item, I considered testing my luck and hope they were there in the morning. But for some reason it nagged on me and I decided I needed to get them today. I went back to the bay and found that Joe had been taken to the treatment room to have his clips (staples which hold the graft in place) removed. He had been scheduled to have this done in theatre the next day, so I had no idea that it would be going on. I went to the treatment room and found him screaming in pain and fear. Once again, I didn’t use my 6 years of schooling to fish out an amazing trick to make his pain go away. At that point there was really nothing I could do for his pain. The resources are so limited that often kids are just asked to cope with things far beyond what children should have to cope with. So, I sat down and just grabbed the hand he was holding out to me. He looked at me with longing eyes. I sat next to him, put my arm around him and let him bury his head in my shoulder and just cry and scream. There was nothing magical about my intervention. It didn’t make the pain go away. But having someone willing to step into that moment, gave him enough strength to make it through. After his treatment, Joe and I went back to his room. He was quiet and tearful and just wanted to lie in his bed. I helped him up and told him how proud I was of him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some Superman stickers I’d stashed there that morning. He took them and a huge smile lit up his face. “Superman,” he said. I smiled back and said, “You are Superman.” He laughed and said, “Joe. Superman.” He put his fist in the air as if he were flying. I realized in that moment there was absolutely nothing special about me. The true heroes in this story are the kids that deal with these traumas every day. They are the ones who will continue to be here long after I have gone. They will continue to face their fears daily and come out victorious. And hopefully, we as Child Life Specialists and medical staff get the opportunity to walk with them along the way. Joe, you are Superman.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
finding my voice
Today I found my voice in the treatment room. It was a busy Wednesday – the busiest we have had. There were 20 outpatients kids and 15 inpatients. I estimated that I did about 25 procedures supports. It was so busy, but it was an amazing day. At times there were 3 kids, each with a sister and a CLS getting their dressing changed at the same time, but I was able to find my voice today and speak up for the kids. We all worked hard today to advocate for comfort holds. Whenever possible we would suggest a more comfortable way to hold and position the children. By the end of the day, the sisters were asking us to hold the children on our laps, or instructing the mothers to hand the kids to us because we would comfort them during the treatment. It was so thrilling to see.
I also spoke up to help deescalate a stressful situation by reminding the sisters that the little girl’s response was not because she was being defiant, but because she was scared. I’m not sure if they agreed with me, but they did soften their approach and what could have been a high stress situation was diffused quickly. It’s often hard for me to find my voice in those situations because my role is to advocate for the child, but to do so without alienating other staff. To find my voice successfully in that situation was a very empowering feeling.
One little girl stood up during her dressing changes and just clung to my neck. I couldn’t pry her off. I took her back to her bed and she was so sweet and smiling. I walked by later and she was crying. A doctor was standing by her bed and said she didn’t know what was wrong with the little girl. I asked if she wanted to be picked up and she raised her arms toward me. I picked her up and again she just clung to my neck. She held on so tightly that at one point I thought she was going to choke me. I tried to move her, but that just made her hold on tighter. She began to calm and the other mothers commented that it was finally peaceful. One mother noted that “they just need comforted.” It’s so true. So much of what these children need is just someone to hold them and make them feel safe in this threatening environment. She began to fall asleep and I tried to adjust her in my arms, but every time I moved (even though she was asleep) she would cling to me tighter, so I remained with her and just gave her the opportunity to feel safe.
Later today we were discussing how the day had gone with the Child Life team. It was an extremely busy day and we all felt as though we’d been pulled in a million different directions. It is both emotionally and physically exhausting to assist in these treatments, but at the end of the day we all felt the positive experiences and improvements far outweighed any negative. We counted it as a very successful day.
I also decided today that maybe it’s a good thing I decided to stay with Child Life and not pursue my nursing path at this time. A sister gave me some medicine to give to a child through a syringe. Normally this would not be something I would do at home, but when there is such limited staff, everyone has to end up helping out with somethings they normally wouldn't. I do have my limits of course, and won’t do anything that could be perceived as potentially threatening to a child, so I only give meds when they kids are willing recipients. Anyway, the little boy I was holding was sucking on the syringe as I slowly pushed the meds into his mouth. It became difficult to push the syringe further so I took it out of his mouth to see what was wrong. There was quite a bit of air at the front of the syringe, so I pointed it up and tried to push a little of the air out. It wouldn’t budge, so I pushed a bit harder. All of a sudden there was a pop and the brown meds went spraying up into air all over the ceiling. I started laughing as the meds began raining down around me. I called Danielle in to look at the ceiling and asked her if she thought it looked like a significant amount of meds. We both just laughed and laughed. Guess I’ll stick to Child Life. ☺
This evening I went to my first ever book reading. It was held at the little bookshop on the corner by my apartment. The book is “Invisible Earthquake” by Malika Lueen Ndlovu. It is a collection of poems documenting the authors experience with stillbirth. It is a pretty powerful book and gives voice to a topic that is often suffered through in silence. The description of the grieving process was especially moving. It offers hope and healing and, while I haven’t read the whole thing, the parts that were read tonight were wonderful. I went up to Malika afterwards to tell her how much I appreciated her readings and how the book had meaning in my roles as a CS. As I was walking home, I realized that I had actually gone up and talked to this woman – something my shy self would not usually do. I think I might actually be growing up here – and finally finding my voice.
I also spoke up to help deescalate a stressful situation by reminding the sisters that the little girl’s response was not because she was being defiant, but because she was scared. I’m not sure if they agreed with me, but they did soften their approach and what could have been a high stress situation was diffused quickly. It’s often hard for me to find my voice in those situations because my role is to advocate for the child, but to do so without alienating other staff. To find my voice successfully in that situation was a very empowering feeling.
One little girl stood up during her dressing changes and just clung to my neck. I couldn’t pry her off. I took her back to her bed and she was so sweet and smiling. I walked by later and she was crying. A doctor was standing by her bed and said she didn’t know what was wrong with the little girl. I asked if she wanted to be picked up and she raised her arms toward me. I picked her up and again she just clung to my neck. She held on so tightly that at one point I thought she was going to choke me. I tried to move her, but that just made her hold on tighter. She began to calm and the other mothers commented that it was finally peaceful. One mother noted that “they just need comforted.” It’s so true. So much of what these children need is just someone to hold them and make them feel safe in this threatening environment. She began to fall asleep and I tried to adjust her in my arms, but every time I moved (even though she was asleep) she would cling to me tighter, so I remained with her and just gave her the opportunity to feel safe.
Later today we were discussing how the day had gone with the Child Life team. It was an extremely busy day and we all felt as though we’d been pulled in a million different directions. It is both emotionally and physically exhausting to assist in these treatments, but at the end of the day we all felt the positive experiences and improvements far outweighed any negative. We counted it as a very successful day.
I also decided today that maybe it’s a good thing I decided to stay with Child Life and not pursue my nursing path at this time. A sister gave me some medicine to give to a child through a syringe. Normally this would not be something I would do at home, but when there is such limited staff, everyone has to end up helping out with somethings they normally wouldn't. I do have my limits of course, and won’t do anything that could be perceived as potentially threatening to a child, so I only give meds when they kids are willing recipients. Anyway, the little boy I was holding was sucking on the syringe as I slowly pushed the meds into his mouth. It became difficult to push the syringe further so I took it out of his mouth to see what was wrong. There was quite a bit of air at the front of the syringe, so I pointed it up and tried to push a little of the air out. It wouldn’t budge, so I pushed a bit harder. All of a sudden there was a pop and the brown meds went spraying up into air all over the ceiling. I started laughing as the meds began raining down around me. I called Danielle in to look at the ceiling and asked her if she thought it looked like a significant amount of meds. We both just laughed and laughed. Guess I’ll stick to Child Life. ☺
This evening I went to my first ever book reading. It was held at the little bookshop on the corner by my apartment. The book is “Invisible Earthquake” by Malika Lueen Ndlovu. It is a collection of poems documenting the authors experience with stillbirth. It is a pretty powerful book and gives voice to a topic that is often suffered through in silence. The description of the grieving process was especially moving. It offers hope and healing and, while I haven’t read the whole thing, the parts that were read tonight were wonderful. I went up to Malika afterwards to tell her how much I appreciated her readings and how the book had meaning in my roles as a CS. As I was walking home, I realized that I had actually gone up and talked to this woman – something my shy self would not usually do. I think I might actually be growing up here – and finally finding my voice.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
better
Today was an awesome day; one of those days that reminds me why I do the work I do. The day didn’t start out that way, however. I woke up rather discouraged. I was starting to doubt my ability to accomplish all I want to accomplish here, and even more nervous about going home. I’ve talked so much about the changes that have occurred in me – I’m getting scared that you all will be disappointed when I come home and I turn back into the same old Cara. ☺ I may not be what you may expect, and if I am I worry I won’t be able to maintain the desires I have to allow this experience to truly change me. I was worrying about all these things and feeling discouraged, when I realized that those feelings do not come from God. He would not place those thoughts within me. So I prayed that He would take them from my heart. I had read a scripture previously this week from II Corinthians 12:10 that said “For when I am weak, then am I strong” because Christ’s’ strength is made perfect in our weakness. I prayed that in my weakness, today I would be made strong.
God is so good. This day was truly amazing and those feelings I felt this morning were swept away. I walked onto the ward this morning and was immediately greeted by Othathli who jumped into my arms and covered me with kisses.
Then I moved to the treatment room where I spent most of my morning. My time there was filled with perfect Child Life moments. The kids seemed so responsive to the interventions, the parents were appreciative of my presence, and the sisters were completely open to my suggestions. I was able to provide comfort holds for some of the patients and the sisters didn’t make any of the kids lay down unless there was no other way to reach their wounds. It felt so wonderful and I could tell it made a positive impact on the kids.
One little girl, Molly (8 years old) had a particularly hard time with her dressings this morning. They were very dry and stuck to her skin – causing extreme pain when they were taken off. She appeared to have a very difficult time coping. A while later she had to get her blood drawn from a femoral vein. I couldn’t think of a comfort hold for that, so she laid down on the table and had to have her legs held to keep from kicking. She was very upset by all the morning procedures. I was concerned about her coping, so we did some medical play later that day. I brought her a blank cloth doll and her face lit up. She used the markers to create her own buddy and then jumped in to using the medical equipment I had brought for her. When she picked up the bandages, she asked where she could be them. I let her know that the doll was hers and the bandages could go wherever she wanted. She placed them on the doll exactly as her bandages had been placed on her, wrapping it around the dolls chest and then around its arm. She smiled a big smile when she was all done. She continued to play with the other medical equipment, laughing and smiling. Her mother was so pleased with the intervention. It was another wonderful Child Life moment.
This afternoon we took our pictures for the positioning for comfort poster I am making. We got one of the sisters involved as a model for the photo shoot that I think will prove to be very beneficial in the long run. We had to tell her all about what we were doing, so it was a very good way to share the concepts of positioning for comfort. She is a well-respected sister, so I think her involvement in the project will encourage others to support the concepts just by knowing she is supportive. Others stopped by the treatment room to see what we were doing, so I think there was quite a bit of positive PR going on just through the photo shoot. I am so excited for this project. It feels like a way I can leave something tangible behind that will continue to influence the staff and patients long after I leave. I think it makes that transition home a bit easier because I can see that I at least made one identifiable contribution. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve been able to make so many more through the interactions I’ve had here, but it’s just nice to be able to actually see something.
I have been reading a book while I’ve been her called “Better” by Atul Gawande. I highly recommend it to everyone. It is written by a surgeon and discusses a number of issues in the medical field which can be applied to any life setting. Like the title suggests, it has challenged me to be better in my profession as a Child Life Specialists, but also in all areas of my life: as a friend, a daughter, a sister, a Sunday school teacher, a volleyball coach, etc. If we settle for average in our live – we will receive average results. But that’s not fair to us or to those patients and families we work with. The challenge is for us to be better – to do better. I’m not saying I’m going to come home and feel like I have to be the best the world has to offer in all these areas, but I know I can be better. And so I challenge myself to do that.
The chapter I was reading today was talking about Cystic Fibrosis facilities around the country. One such medical facility has challenged itself to be the best in the country. At the time the book was written, this facility had gone nearly a decade without a single child or teenager dying of CF. Their oldest patient at that time was 67 years old. That’s pretty amazing! The doctors and nurses at this facility didn’t have any different research or medical equipment than any other hospitals in the country. They had just challenged themselves to do the best for their patients with the resources they had. They didn’t allow themselves to be content with average results. They demanded the best and obviously it paid off for their patients and families.
The awesome thing about being better is that it can be applied to any life, at any time, anywhere in the world. You don’t have to travel to Africa, you don’t have to be saving lives in a military medical unit (another example from the book) – you can become better in whatever area of your life you desire.
So, I’m ending this day on a much different note than I began. I am so excited to make my life better. I can’t wait to be a better Child Life Specialist, a better friend, a better contributor to my community…better! ☺
I was writing down all the ways I wanted to be better as a Child Life Specialist – tangible things I want to implement in my practice when I return home. I started thinking about reasons or excuses that would stand in my way of what I wanted to do. But then I realized that people who do become better are able to acknowledge who they are and have a vision for where they want to go – without excuses. So, I’m committing myself to being better.
Thought I would also include the quote Caroline wrote in my journal today, “If you’re a woodpecker, get out of my boat!” I'd always thought of that in the sense of others telling me I couldn't do something, or providing negativity. But today I realized that applies even more to the negative or discouraging thoughts I often allow myself to have. So I'm applying this quote to my own thoughts today! :)
Love you all.
God is so good. This day was truly amazing and those feelings I felt this morning were swept away. I walked onto the ward this morning and was immediately greeted by Othathli who jumped into my arms and covered me with kisses.
Then I moved to the treatment room where I spent most of my morning. My time there was filled with perfect Child Life moments. The kids seemed so responsive to the interventions, the parents were appreciative of my presence, and the sisters were completely open to my suggestions. I was able to provide comfort holds for some of the patients and the sisters didn’t make any of the kids lay down unless there was no other way to reach their wounds. It felt so wonderful and I could tell it made a positive impact on the kids.
One little girl, Molly (8 years old) had a particularly hard time with her dressings this morning. They were very dry and stuck to her skin – causing extreme pain when they were taken off. She appeared to have a very difficult time coping. A while later she had to get her blood drawn from a femoral vein. I couldn’t think of a comfort hold for that, so she laid down on the table and had to have her legs held to keep from kicking. She was very upset by all the morning procedures. I was concerned about her coping, so we did some medical play later that day. I brought her a blank cloth doll and her face lit up. She used the markers to create her own buddy and then jumped in to using the medical equipment I had brought for her. When she picked up the bandages, she asked where she could be them. I let her know that the doll was hers and the bandages could go wherever she wanted. She placed them on the doll exactly as her bandages had been placed on her, wrapping it around the dolls chest and then around its arm. She smiled a big smile when she was all done. She continued to play with the other medical equipment, laughing and smiling. Her mother was so pleased with the intervention. It was another wonderful Child Life moment.
This afternoon we took our pictures for the positioning for comfort poster I am making. We got one of the sisters involved as a model for the photo shoot that I think will prove to be very beneficial in the long run. We had to tell her all about what we were doing, so it was a very good way to share the concepts of positioning for comfort. She is a well-respected sister, so I think her involvement in the project will encourage others to support the concepts just by knowing she is supportive. Others stopped by the treatment room to see what we were doing, so I think there was quite a bit of positive PR going on just through the photo shoot. I am so excited for this project. It feels like a way I can leave something tangible behind that will continue to influence the staff and patients long after I leave. I think it makes that transition home a bit easier because I can see that I at least made one identifiable contribution. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve been able to make so many more through the interactions I’ve had here, but it’s just nice to be able to actually see something.
I have been reading a book while I’ve been her called “Better” by Atul Gawande. I highly recommend it to everyone. It is written by a surgeon and discusses a number of issues in the medical field which can be applied to any life setting. Like the title suggests, it has challenged me to be better in my profession as a Child Life Specialists, but also in all areas of my life: as a friend, a daughter, a sister, a Sunday school teacher, a volleyball coach, etc. If we settle for average in our live – we will receive average results. But that’s not fair to us or to those patients and families we work with. The challenge is for us to be better – to do better. I’m not saying I’m going to come home and feel like I have to be the best the world has to offer in all these areas, but I know I can be better. And so I challenge myself to do that.
The chapter I was reading today was talking about Cystic Fibrosis facilities around the country. One such medical facility has challenged itself to be the best in the country. At the time the book was written, this facility had gone nearly a decade without a single child or teenager dying of CF. Their oldest patient at that time was 67 years old. That’s pretty amazing! The doctors and nurses at this facility didn’t have any different research or medical equipment than any other hospitals in the country. They had just challenged themselves to do the best for their patients with the resources they had. They didn’t allow themselves to be content with average results. They demanded the best and obviously it paid off for their patients and families.
The awesome thing about being better is that it can be applied to any life, at any time, anywhere in the world. You don’t have to travel to Africa, you don’t have to be saving lives in a military medical unit (another example from the book) – you can become better in whatever area of your life you desire.
So, I’m ending this day on a much different note than I began. I am so excited to make my life better. I can’t wait to be a better Child Life Specialist, a better friend, a better contributor to my community…better! ☺
I was writing down all the ways I wanted to be better as a Child Life Specialist – tangible things I want to implement in my practice when I return home. I started thinking about reasons or excuses that would stand in my way of what I wanted to do. But then I realized that people who do become better are able to acknowledge who they are and have a vision for where they want to go – without excuses. So, I’m committing myself to being better.
Thought I would also include the quote Caroline wrote in my journal today, “If you’re a woodpecker, get out of my boat!” I'd always thought of that in the sense of others telling me I couldn't do something, or providing negativity. But today I realized that applies even more to the negative or discouraging thoughts I often allow myself to have. So I'm applying this quote to my own thoughts today! :)
Love you all.
Monday, April 13, 2009
4.day weekend
Public holidays are quite popular in South Africa. We’ve just made it to the end of a 4-day weekend including Good Friday and Family Day Monday. I think there are about 6 public holidays in the month of April alone, so these people take their rest time seriously. :)
The time off has produced some surprising feelings for me. It’s nice to have the chance to explore some of the areas of Cape Town that I would not otherwise have time to experience, but I feel guilty taking time away from my purpose in coming here. I even experienced a bit of mild homesickness this weekend. When I’m working at the hospital, my purpose in being here is so clear, I am able to focus all my energies on that, and haven’t felt the longing for home. But this weekend my focus was more enjoyment centered and so purpose was less evident, giving me a chance to think about and miss all my wonderful friends and family at home. It felt more like I was on vacation and I wondered why you all had not come along with me! In all my activities I kept thinking about which of my friends and family members would have enjoyed the various moments with me. After you read all the events of the weekend, you can decide for which one I was wishing you would have been with me! ☺
Friday morning I woke up at 6 am and took a cab with my friend Jamie up to Signal Hill. We joined with the little church we had attended on Sunday for a Good Friday sunrise service. It was a spectacular view and a wonderful service. It has been so neat to worship with this little congregation. They have made us feel so welcome and special. They are so excited when we join them and have really made an effort to make us fill at home. I am sure that if we sat down together, we would disagree on a number of doctrinal issues, but I’m reminded of the council given in the scriptures to agree on as much as we can and build from there. So, I have focused on those points we agree on and because of that have truly been able to worship with my brothers and sisters in South Africa. We were sitting on this hill, singing praise songs and I was just filled with a love for them – in awe of how I can feel so at home with people that I hardly know, through the love of Christ. The Gospel brings people together. I can be a world away and feel at home with these people because we meet together and agree on Jesus as our Savior. How much more should we be able to do at home when we meet together and agree on so much more? Yet we often find it hard to worship together. It seems that we so often choose to focus on our differences and those ideas that separate us. I spoke with some friends from home this past weekend who were discouraged and saddened by feeling like they had to pick between 2 separate communion services and worship services this past week – both of which were supported by people they love. When will we chose to love one another, focus on those things we can agree on and allow God to work through us? Just think of the work he could do through us!!
After the service I drove with Tami to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. We spent the day walking around the gardens, taking pictures of every green plant there was, and just enjoying the beauty and peace of the area. It was so difficult to capture everything with my camera, but I tried to at least take enough photos to spark the photos I tried to remember in my mind.
Our cab ride home taught us the lesson of never talking politics in a taxicab. The drivers are very particular about their views on American politics and the conversation soon becomes very uncomfortable. I must say it was very interesting to hear the views – you would find them surprising no matter what your political affiliation. However, if you know me at all – you know I absolutely hate politics because I feel like they divide people before they even have a chance to listen to another person’s views, so I’m not going to type the content of our conversations. If you really interested, I’ll tell you when I get home. ☺
Day 2 of the 4-day weekend was extremely relaxing and uneventful. Tami, Therese and I took Jamie and Danielle to Camp’s Bay for their first trip to the beach. It was an absolutely beautiful day and we spent it relaxing in the sand. We tried to pass around volleyball, but the one we had felt more like a basketball, so that quickly ended. I did venture into the freezing cold water and even put my head all the way under, just so I could say I had truly been in the ocean. The rest of the time we laid in the sand writing postcards, chatting and listening to the guys who wander the beach selling food and drinks. “Lollipop Ice Cream!” (aka popsicle). “Ice cold drinks from Iceland!” ☺
Easter Sunday Jamie and I walked to church at the little congregation we’ve been attending (this is only our second week going, but that counts for “been attending” ☺). We bumped into Dawn and Diandra on our way. They were the ones we followed to church the first time, so it seemed perfect to walk with them again! I was pretty sad knowing this would be my last Sunday to worship with the congregation (the next 2 Sundays I will be out of town – and the 3rd I’ll be flying home). I wish I could have found them earlier, but I’m just grateful I was able to be with them in the time I was – and that now Jamie will be able to continue worshiping with them. The sermon today discussed Jesus making water into wine and how we each need to be converted into new creatures through Christ. I feel as though I have been changed in this journey and I just hope that it will be a permanent change. Just imagine if the wine would have turned back into water – no good. ☺
After church, Jamie, Tami and I went to Robben Island. It’s the island that held the political prisoners who fought against Apartheid in South Africa. The prison was used for other purposes throughout the years, but most people visit because of it’s role in Apartheid. Robben Island actually only held the Black, Colored, and Indian political prisoners. (note – the term “colored” is acceptable terminology here for and non-black/non-white individual). White prisoners were held elsewhere. This is the prison Nelson Mandela was imprisoned in for so many years. We saw his cell and the cells of so many others. Our tour guide was even an ex-prisoner. It was so interesting to hear the history and stories behind the island. The ex-prisoner told us that they guards used to have different menus for the black prisoners and for the colored and Indian prisoners in order to encourage dissension and segregation among the prisoners. The black prisoners were given less and did not receive things like jams. The guards hoped that this would cause division. But instead, those with more shared with those with less, so that everyone was even. This was their way of showing that they were all in the fight against oppression together. It strengthened their comradery and frustrated the guards. It just goes to show the power of having all things common and the unity that can bring. There was so much more to share with you about Robben Island, but I don’t have the space, so you’ll just have to read up on it yourself. I am so glad we were able to go. It was definitely a must see in Cape Town.
And now we end with day number 4… Today is Family Day. I guess that means you hang out with your family. ☺ We decided to hang out with a Capetonian family and hike Table Mountain. Jamie met a guy named Murray through Mercy Ships – an organization she will be working with after her time in Cape Town. Murray is from Cape Town, so he and his dad, brother-in-law, and friend decided they were up to the challenging of taking 6 American girls to the top of Table Mountain. It was quite the challenge, but we had a wonderful time. The hike ended up taking us about 8 hours. We traveled up the back side of the mountain via Skeleton Gorge. We walked all along the top of the table and then down Platteklip Gorge. It was an amazing hike! Definitely one of my favorites I have ever done. There was such diversity in the terrain. At one point we were scrambling up the rocky gorge and at the next we were standing in a giant dam full of sand. It felt like we were on the beach on the top of the mountain. We were able to reach the highest point in Cape Town and then walk along the top of the mountain. The trip back down was super steep down the gorge, but we eventually made it. Exhausted, but happy at our days worth of hiking. I absolutely loved it!
Tomorrow begins one of my last weeks at the hospital. Many of the kids that I’ve been working with have gone home, so I’m prayerful that God will continue to lead me and open the doors He would desire for me to walk through.
Love you all.
The time off has produced some surprising feelings for me. It’s nice to have the chance to explore some of the areas of Cape Town that I would not otherwise have time to experience, but I feel guilty taking time away from my purpose in coming here. I even experienced a bit of mild homesickness this weekend. When I’m working at the hospital, my purpose in being here is so clear, I am able to focus all my energies on that, and haven’t felt the longing for home. But this weekend my focus was more enjoyment centered and so purpose was less evident, giving me a chance to think about and miss all my wonderful friends and family at home. It felt more like I was on vacation and I wondered why you all had not come along with me! In all my activities I kept thinking about which of my friends and family members would have enjoyed the various moments with me. After you read all the events of the weekend, you can decide for which one I was wishing you would have been with me! ☺
Friday morning I woke up at 6 am and took a cab with my friend Jamie up to Signal Hill. We joined with the little church we had attended on Sunday for a Good Friday sunrise service. It was a spectacular view and a wonderful service. It has been so neat to worship with this little congregation. They have made us feel so welcome and special. They are so excited when we join them and have really made an effort to make us fill at home. I am sure that if we sat down together, we would disagree on a number of doctrinal issues, but I’m reminded of the council given in the scriptures to agree on as much as we can and build from there. So, I have focused on those points we agree on and because of that have truly been able to worship with my brothers and sisters in South Africa. We were sitting on this hill, singing praise songs and I was just filled with a love for them – in awe of how I can feel so at home with people that I hardly know, through the love of Christ. The Gospel brings people together. I can be a world away and feel at home with these people because we meet together and agree on Jesus as our Savior. How much more should we be able to do at home when we meet together and agree on so much more? Yet we often find it hard to worship together. It seems that we so often choose to focus on our differences and those ideas that separate us. I spoke with some friends from home this past weekend who were discouraged and saddened by feeling like they had to pick between 2 separate communion services and worship services this past week – both of which were supported by people they love. When will we chose to love one another, focus on those things we can agree on and allow God to work through us? Just think of the work he could do through us!!
After the service I drove with Tami to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. We spent the day walking around the gardens, taking pictures of every green plant there was, and just enjoying the beauty and peace of the area. It was so difficult to capture everything with my camera, but I tried to at least take enough photos to spark the photos I tried to remember in my mind.
Our cab ride home taught us the lesson of never talking politics in a taxicab. The drivers are very particular about their views on American politics and the conversation soon becomes very uncomfortable. I must say it was very interesting to hear the views – you would find them surprising no matter what your political affiliation. However, if you know me at all – you know I absolutely hate politics because I feel like they divide people before they even have a chance to listen to another person’s views, so I’m not going to type the content of our conversations. If you really interested, I’ll tell you when I get home. ☺
Day 2 of the 4-day weekend was extremely relaxing and uneventful. Tami, Therese and I took Jamie and Danielle to Camp’s Bay for their first trip to the beach. It was an absolutely beautiful day and we spent it relaxing in the sand. We tried to pass around volleyball, but the one we had felt more like a basketball, so that quickly ended. I did venture into the freezing cold water and even put my head all the way under, just so I could say I had truly been in the ocean. The rest of the time we laid in the sand writing postcards, chatting and listening to the guys who wander the beach selling food and drinks. “Lollipop Ice Cream!” (aka popsicle). “Ice cold drinks from Iceland!” ☺
Easter Sunday Jamie and I walked to church at the little congregation we’ve been attending (this is only our second week going, but that counts for “been attending” ☺). We bumped into Dawn and Diandra on our way. They were the ones we followed to church the first time, so it seemed perfect to walk with them again! I was pretty sad knowing this would be my last Sunday to worship with the congregation (the next 2 Sundays I will be out of town – and the 3rd I’ll be flying home). I wish I could have found them earlier, but I’m just grateful I was able to be with them in the time I was – and that now Jamie will be able to continue worshiping with them. The sermon today discussed Jesus making water into wine and how we each need to be converted into new creatures through Christ. I feel as though I have been changed in this journey and I just hope that it will be a permanent change. Just imagine if the wine would have turned back into water – no good. ☺
After church, Jamie, Tami and I went to Robben Island. It’s the island that held the political prisoners who fought against Apartheid in South Africa. The prison was used for other purposes throughout the years, but most people visit because of it’s role in Apartheid. Robben Island actually only held the Black, Colored, and Indian political prisoners. (note – the term “colored” is acceptable terminology here for and non-black/non-white individual). White prisoners were held elsewhere. This is the prison Nelson Mandela was imprisoned in for so many years. We saw his cell and the cells of so many others. Our tour guide was even an ex-prisoner. It was so interesting to hear the history and stories behind the island. The ex-prisoner told us that they guards used to have different menus for the black prisoners and for the colored and Indian prisoners in order to encourage dissension and segregation among the prisoners. The black prisoners were given less and did not receive things like jams. The guards hoped that this would cause division. But instead, those with more shared with those with less, so that everyone was even. This was their way of showing that they were all in the fight against oppression together. It strengthened their comradery and frustrated the guards. It just goes to show the power of having all things common and the unity that can bring. There was so much more to share with you about Robben Island, but I don’t have the space, so you’ll just have to read up on it yourself. I am so glad we were able to go. It was definitely a must see in Cape Town.
And now we end with day number 4… Today is Family Day. I guess that means you hang out with your family. ☺ We decided to hang out with a Capetonian family and hike Table Mountain. Jamie met a guy named Murray through Mercy Ships – an organization she will be working with after her time in Cape Town. Murray is from Cape Town, so he and his dad, brother-in-law, and friend decided they were up to the challenging of taking 6 American girls to the top of Table Mountain. It was quite the challenge, but we had a wonderful time. The hike ended up taking us about 8 hours. We traveled up the back side of the mountain via Skeleton Gorge. We walked all along the top of the table and then down Platteklip Gorge. It was an amazing hike! Definitely one of my favorites I have ever done. There was such diversity in the terrain. At one point we were scrambling up the rocky gorge and at the next we were standing in a giant dam full of sand. It felt like we were on the beach on the top of the mountain. We were able to reach the highest point in Cape Town and then walk along the top of the mountain. The trip back down was super steep down the gorge, but we eventually made it. Exhausted, but happy at our days worth of hiking. I absolutely loved it!
Tomorrow begins one of my last weeks at the hospital. Many of the kids that I’ve been working with have gone home, so I’m prayerful that God will continue to lead me and open the doors He would desire for me to walk through.
Love you all.
Friday, April 10, 2009
the goodbyes begin
Written 9.4, but couldn't publish last night...
I’m incredibly tired as I sit down to write this blog tonight, but I don’t want to start this busy weekend off behind in my documenting. Jamie and I are getting up early to join the church we went to last weekend for a Good Friday sunrise services on Signal Hill. I’m trying to get to sleep at a reasonable time, but it’s already 11:30.
I just returned from a very fun night. We decided to have a potluck tonight with some of the girls. It was so much fun we’re making it a weekly occurrence called “See You Thursday.” Not really sure why we named it…it must have been that much fun! ☺ We sat around with some of the new people and old people and talked for hours. We laughed and ate and just spent time enjoying the company of new friends from around the world.
The goodbyes seem to be beginning at work already. Perhaps I’m just in the frame of mind to start preparing myself for my return trip home, but it seems as though I’m beginning to have to start saying goodbye. A number of the kids that were new when I arrived are now getting to go home. Joe and Missy were already gone by the time I got there this morning. They were transitioned to the medical facility many of the patients go to as a step in the transition home. It was weird not being able to say goodbye and participate in that transition home, but discharge is so sporadic it’s hard to know when things are really happening.
The little boy who has been here with his mother for 3 months is finally going home! He has to come back in a few days, but the mother feels so blessed to join her family for the Easter holiday. We started our goodbyes to him, knowing that the time is short for him to remain in the hospital.
Nelly was back from the medical facility for an outpatient appointment. We learned that her parents had contacted the facility to come get Nelly. This was surprising news as Nelly’s family was thought to be non-existent. It is good however to watch her get ready to transition home. She gave me a big bear hug today and we said our goodbyes - this time for good.
We also said goodbye to our first patient to die while I’ve been here. The burns were just too massive for his little body and last night his fight ended. I had not worked closely with him, but did spend time yesterday blowing bubbles and singing with him. I know he is finally at peace and I pray for his family as they cope with the grief of their loss.
I’m thankful for these moments to begin the goodbye process. I think it would be too hard to do all at once, so I pray that I will have the wisdom to utilize these last few weeks most effectively and the courage to say goodbye to this experience.
I did another comfort hold today. This time I didn’t even ask. I just picked the child up and held out her hand. The sister told me, “she must lay down.” I asked if she thought she’d be able to do the dressing with me holding the little girl and she actually agreed! It was fabulous.
Today Prof told Caroline – “I don’t like you being on C2. I love you being here!” He has just been full of compliments today! :)
I know this was a brief blog with random jumps in thought, but my eyes are so heavy, they are closing and I’m not really sure what I’m writing.
I just need to send a couple shout outs…
Thank you so much for the wonderful e.mail you sent me Deborah. It was a wonderful pick me up and so nice of you to remember me!
I did get my birthday cards Mom and Dad, Erin and Pete, and Brett and Becca. Thanks!!
Nana – I thought about you a lot today because they use “Monkey Blood” on wounds to help them heal. ☺That doesn't give you permission to start using it again, though.
That’s all for now – I think I might actually be asleep as I’m writing this! ☺
Love you all.
I’m incredibly tired as I sit down to write this blog tonight, but I don’t want to start this busy weekend off behind in my documenting. Jamie and I are getting up early to join the church we went to last weekend for a Good Friday sunrise services on Signal Hill. I’m trying to get to sleep at a reasonable time, but it’s already 11:30.
I just returned from a very fun night. We decided to have a potluck tonight with some of the girls. It was so much fun we’re making it a weekly occurrence called “See You Thursday.” Not really sure why we named it…it must have been that much fun! ☺ We sat around with some of the new people and old people and talked for hours. We laughed and ate and just spent time enjoying the company of new friends from around the world.
The goodbyes seem to be beginning at work already. Perhaps I’m just in the frame of mind to start preparing myself for my return trip home, but it seems as though I’m beginning to have to start saying goodbye. A number of the kids that were new when I arrived are now getting to go home. Joe and Missy were already gone by the time I got there this morning. They were transitioned to the medical facility many of the patients go to as a step in the transition home. It was weird not being able to say goodbye and participate in that transition home, but discharge is so sporadic it’s hard to know when things are really happening.
The little boy who has been here with his mother for 3 months is finally going home! He has to come back in a few days, but the mother feels so blessed to join her family for the Easter holiday. We started our goodbyes to him, knowing that the time is short for him to remain in the hospital.
Nelly was back from the medical facility for an outpatient appointment. We learned that her parents had contacted the facility to come get Nelly. This was surprising news as Nelly’s family was thought to be non-existent. It is good however to watch her get ready to transition home. She gave me a big bear hug today and we said our goodbyes - this time for good.
We also said goodbye to our first patient to die while I’ve been here. The burns were just too massive for his little body and last night his fight ended. I had not worked closely with him, but did spend time yesterday blowing bubbles and singing with him. I know he is finally at peace and I pray for his family as they cope with the grief of their loss.
I’m thankful for these moments to begin the goodbye process. I think it would be too hard to do all at once, so I pray that I will have the wisdom to utilize these last few weeks most effectively and the courage to say goodbye to this experience.
I did another comfort hold today. This time I didn’t even ask. I just picked the child up and held out her hand. The sister told me, “she must lay down.” I asked if she thought she’d be able to do the dressing with me holding the little girl and she actually agreed! It was fabulous.
Today Prof told Caroline – “I don’t like you being on C2. I love you being here!” He has just been full of compliments today! :)
I know this was a brief blog with random jumps in thought, but my eyes are so heavy, they are closing and I’m not really sure what I’m writing.
I just need to send a couple shout outs…
Thank you so much for the wonderful e.mail you sent me Deborah. It was a wonderful pick me up and so nice of you to remember me!
I did get my birthday cards Mom and Dad, Erin and Pete, and Brett and Becca. Thanks!!
Nana – I thought about you a lot today because they use “Monkey Blood” on wounds to help them heal. ☺That doesn't give you permission to start using it again, though.
That’s all for now – I think I might actually be asleep as I’m writing this! ☺
Love you all.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
ran out of ink while journaling
Keeping up with blogging and journaling has been such a struggle lately, but I know it’s so important to document all these experiences that I am going to stay up late tonight and get all caught up. I ran out of ink while I was journaling last night – is that a sign that I’m writing way too much?! I hope not. I hope these blogs are still exciting to read and haven’t run out of spunk. The experiences I’m having our definitely still exciting. I do feel my self wearing down a bit though. We work so hard and it is extremely emotionally draining. I have to keep reminding myself to take the time to rest and care for myself in order to best care for the kids. But tonight – I’m not worrying about all that. Tonight I’m catching up. ☺
Yesterdays happenings..
Yesterday was an exciting day for so many reasons. We had a meeting in the morning with the pain management team. A couple of women joined us from a hospital near Jo-burg. One of the women used to be a nurse, but learned about Child Life and taught herself through research and molding her studies around Child Life knowledge. She has been working very hard to start a program in this hospital near Jo-burg, so we all met in hopes of collaborating to bring Child Life to South Africa. It was an awesome meeting with some exciting events. It was also a challenging meeting as we try to decide the best way of bringing CL to South Africa – especially as far as the council and certification issues are concerned. I hope we can come to a conclusion that makes the profession valid here, but is also reasonable and works within the South African social structure.
As part of the meeting, Professor Jenny (the head of the pain management team and the anesthesiologist that has opened the door for us to come) stated that the question is no longer IF Child Life is need here (she said that has been made blatantly obvious to the staff and families) it’s how are we going to make it a sustainable program. She even teared up a bit when she was recanting some of the awesome changes she has seen take place through the guidance of the Child Life team. It was really amazing to sit there as part of a valued team and see our hard work truly appreciated. During this discussion, an announcement was also made of an attempt to keep Caroline on for a full year and provide her with a paid position. Many more tears fell around the circle at that announcement. We have been in a state of limbo – working so hard to bring this program about, but not knowing what will happen when we leave. Knowing Caroline will be able to stay on and provide consistency to this program makes is much easier to leave, trusting that our good work will continue. What an awesome blessing!
There has just been so much support throughout this process. It has been so awesome to witness and be a part of.
Yesterday was also exciting because I was able to do my first medical play session with the blank cloth dolls we often use for such occasions. I got a blanket and sat on the floor in one of the bays with Othathali, Joe and Missy. They love the dolls! They each decorated them on their own (many including nipples and belly buttons, which I don’t usually see at home). Othathali’s dolls even had tears streaming down her face. The kids laughed and played together for quite some time. Missy giggled and giggled the whole time. It was such an awesome moment! I have never seen her that way and it made me so happy. You can tell she was so freed from her environment and circumstances during her play – it’s such a powerful tool! We had a small scrap of bandages I divided into three for the kids. For those of you who don’t know – medical play sessions are intended to by child directed, thus the term play instead of preparation or something else. So I don’t give instructions during these sessions, I’m just present to facilitate while the children freely play. The interesting this was that – totally unprompted by me – each of the kids put the bandages on their doll in the same location they themselves were bandaged. Some even came complete with drawn on wounds. It was such a powerful moment of play. Many people stopped by to observe and comment on the change they were able to see in the kids when they were at play.
Joe was supposed to go to surgery today. We had already done the prep that morning and played with the mask because there is never any notice was to when a child will go to surgery. We waited around most of the day and the time came for us to go home. Joe still hadn’t gone to surgery, but we had to leave. I went to his bed to tell him that I was not going to able to be present when he went to surgery. I gave him a hug and said goodbye. He began to cry (one of those soft cries where the tears stream down the face, but no sound comes out – the ones where you can just feel the sadness). I sat down beside him and he sat on my lap for a while. He was quite and calm in my lap, but I couldn’t hold him much longer, so I put him back in bed and said goodbye. He started crying again. It was such a difficult moment for me. I had to go and we weren’t even sure if or when he would have his surgery. It was so hard to walk away and say goodbye. Later that night I was thinking about the difficulty I had in leaving Joe there. It made me realize just how difficult it’s going to be walk away from all the kids when this time is over. I’m starting now praying for that transition home because honestly it’s kind of scary. I just have to trust that God has a plan for what comes next in my life and that these experiences will have a lasting change in my life.
Last night we had a popcorn and cards night with some o f the girls and then walked down the street for some dessert. It was such a comfortable night. I commented to the girls on how blessed I am to have their friendships here. It has been such and answer to prayer. I love them!
Today was another Wednesday day. ☺ If you don’t remember – those are the ward rounds days. We actually seemed to get the dressings done in record time. It’s so neat to see how far some of the kids have come in their coping skills. The treatments are still painful, but today didn’t seem as rushed - which helps the kids remain more calm and able to utilize their coping skills. One of the social workers was talking about some recent research showing that when kids experience trauma it significantly affects their brain development. Traumatic experiences included those where there was separation from parents and physical pain, etc. The treatment room truly is a traumatic experience for many of these kids – and to think that is affecting their brain development motivates me to be more bold in my advocacy for a comforting and supportive environment.
I had another play session with Othathali, Missy and Joe today. We did an art activity and then attempted to play games. The kids ended up fighting over them, so the playtime quickly ended in hitting, time out and tears. It was kind of stressful, but really fun while it lasted. It’s just so hard for the kids to share here. They have so little that when they are presented with something, it’s difficult for them to give it up. But the play session truly was fun – with lots of giggles from Missy again. The kids like to climb up on my lap when we’re playing together so today I had Othathli and Joe while I was reading a book. It was one of those snapshot moments I try to tuck away in my mind to take home with me.
I’m so incredibly tired. I have to go to bed. Tomorrow is the last day of the workweek, followed by a 4-day weekend! We have so much to cram in to those four days. I can’t believe I will only have 3 weeks left here after that. I have cried numerous times during the day thinking about what it will be like to leave, but I’m trying to live in the moment and truly appreciate each moment and experience I have.
Yesterdays happenings..
Yesterday was an exciting day for so many reasons. We had a meeting in the morning with the pain management team. A couple of women joined us from a hospital near Jo-burg. One of the women used to be a nurse, but learned about Child Life and taught herself through research and molding her studies around Child Life knowledge. She has been working very hard to start a program in this hospital near Jo-burg, so we all met in hopes of collaborating to bring Child Life to South Africa. It was an awesome meeting with some exciting events. It was also a challenging meeting as we try to decide the best way of bringing CL to South Africa – especially as far as the council and certification issues are concerned. I hope we can come to a conclusion that makes the profession valid here, but is also reasonable and works within the South African social structure.
As part of the meeting, Professor Jenny (the head of the pain management team and the anesthesiologist that has opened the door for us to come) stated that the question is no longer IF Child Life is need here (she said that has been made blatantly obvious to the staff and families) it’s how are we going to make it a sustainable program. She even teared up a bit when she was recanting some of the awesome changes she has seen take place through the guidance of the Child Life team. It was really amazing to sit there as part of a valued team and see our hard work truly appreciated. During this discussion, an announcement was also made of an attempt to keep Caroline on for a full year and provide her with a paid position. Many more tears fell around the circle at that announcement. We have been in a state of limbo – working so hard to bring this program about, but not knowing what will happen when we leave. Knowing Caroline will be able to stay on and provide consistency to this program makes is much easier to leave, trusting that our good work will continue. What an awesome blessing!
There has just been so much support throughout this process. It has been so awesome to witness and be a part of.
Yesterday was also exciting because I was able to do my first medical play session with the blank cloth dolls we often use for such occasions. I got a blanket and sat on the floor in one of the bays with Othathali, Joe and Missy. They love the dolls! They each decorated them on their own (many including nipples and belly buttons, which I don’t usually see at home). Othathali’s dolls even had tears streaming down her face. The kids laughed and played together for quite some time. Missy giggled and giggled the whole time. It was such an awesome moment! I have never seen her that way and it made me so happy. You can tell she was so freed from her environment and circumstances during her play – it’s such a powerful tool! We had a small scrap of bandages I divided into three for the kids. For those of you who don’t know – medical play sessions are intended to by child directed, thus the term play instead of preparation or something else. So I don’t give instructions during these sessions, I’m just present to facilitate while the children freely play. The interesting this was that – totally unprompted by me – each of the kids put the bandages on their doll in the same location they themselves were bandaged. Some even came complete with drawn on wounds. It was such a powerful moment of play. Many people stopped by to observe and comment on the change they were able to see in the kids when they were at play.
Joe was supposed to go to surgery today. We had already done the prep that morning and played with the mask because there is never any notice was to when a child will go to surgery. We waited around most of the day and the time came for us to go home. Joe still hadn’t gone to surgery, but we had to leave. I went to his bed to tell him that I was not going to able to be present when he went to surgery. I gave him a hug and said goodbye. He began to cry (one of those soft cries where the tears stream down the face, but no sound comes out – the ones where you can just feel the sadness). I sat down beside him and he sat on my lap for a while. He was quite and calm in my lap, but I couldn’t hold him much longer, so I put him back in bed and said goodbye. He started crying again. It was such a difficult moment for me. I had to go and we weren’t even sure if or when he would have his surgery. It was so hard to walk away and say goodbye. Later that night I was thinking about the difficulty I had in leaving Joe there. It made me realize just how difficult it’s going to be walk away from all the kids when this time is over. I’m starting now praying for that transition home because honestly it’s kind of scary. I just have to trust that God has a plan for what comes next in my life and that these experiences will have a lasting change in my life.
Last night we had a popcorn and cards night with some o f the girls and then walked down the street for some dessert. It was such a comfortable night. I commented to the girls on how blessed I am to have their friendships here. It has been such and answer to prayer. I love them!
Today was another Wednesday day. ☺ If you don’t remember – those are the ward rounds days. We actually seemed to get the dressings done in record time. It’s so neat to see how far some of the kids have come in their coping skills. The treatments are still painful, but today didn’t seem as rushed - which helps the kids remain more calm and able to utilize their coping skills. One of the social workers was talking about some recent research showing that when kids experience trauma it significantly affects their brain development. Traumatic experiences included those where there was separation from parents and physical pain, etc. The treatment room truly is a traumatic experience for many of these kids – and to think that is affecting their brain development motivates me to be more bold in my advocacy for a comforting and supportive environment.
I had another play session with Othathali, Missy and Joe today. We did an art activity and then attempted to play games. The kids ended up fighting over them, so the playtime quickly ended in hitting, time out and tears. It was kind of stressful, but really fun while it lasted. It’s just so hard for the kids to share here. They have so little that when they are presented with something, it’s difficult for them to give it up. But the play session truly was fun – with lots of giggles from Missy again. The kids like to climb up on my lap when we’re playing together so today I had Othathli and Joe while I was reading a book. It was one of those snapshot moments I try to tuck away in my mind to take home with me.
I’m so incredibly tired. I have to go to bed. Tomorrow is the last day of the workweek, followed by a 4-day weekend! We have so much to cram in to those four days. I can’t believe I will only have 3 weeks left here after that. I have cried numerous times during the day thinking about what it will be like to leave, but I’m trying to live in the moment and truly appreciate each moment and experience I have.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
a mother's love
From yesterday, April 6 (i'm sorry - internet excuses again!)
Othathali went to surgery this morning. Thankfully the premed worked and she was knocked out for the majority of the wait outside the theatre. The surgery before hers ended up taking a long time, so we waited in the hallway for about an hour. Othathali’s mom was there, so I just sat with her and talked while Othathali slept. We had plenty of time to talk, so her mother told me all about Othathali’s story. Othathali was burned by fire when she was about 3 months old. She is now almost 6 or 7. She spent the majority of her first year of life in the hospital, undergoing numerous surgeries and painful procedures to save her life. Due to the social situation Othathali came from, she was not able to go home with her parents. One of the women working in the cafeteria heard Othathali’s story and ended up adopting her. Her mother told me about the way she felt God had been preparing her and her family for Othathali’s presence in their lives and that her addition to their family was truly orchestrated by God.
Othathali’s mom also told me about the role she plays in advocating for her child – both in and outside of the hospital. Children can be cruel to those different than them anywhere in the world, but it seems like physical disfigurement takes on a greater social stigma here. Tolerance is not a key topic in children’s education, so burn survivors often have a very difficult transition home. We’ve even heard of children being shunned by their families and communities following burns. Othathali’s mother told me how she had gone to the schools and spoken with the parents (spoken – threatened…it’s all the same around here. ☺). She also told all the children in the neighborhood that she had gone to the police station and filed an open case, so that any child caught making fun of or hurting Othathli would immediately be prosecuted and their parents would go to jail. I’m not suggesting this is the newest model we should use for school reentry, but it does illustrate what a mother will do to protect her child from emotional pain. She is doing the best she can what she has in order to protect her child.
Othathali also discussed her role as an advocate for her daughter in the hospital. She is constantly asking questions and wanting to be at the forefront of her daughters care. She told me that she worries that the doctors think she is annoying or bothersome because she always needs to know what is going on and feel in control. I encouraged her in taking leadership of her child’s care, reminding her that she is the expert on Othathali. I said I wished there were more parents able to take on the role as advocate for their child. I think that is often a difficult role for parents to navigate. We as medical personnel need to take it upon ourselves to encourage parents in that role and give them the tools necessary to achieve success as the expert in their child’s care. Parents should never be made to feel bothersome because they are seeking information or wanting to take part in their child’s care. True family centered care recognizes the family as the constant in that child’s life. Doctors come and go with different ideas and different messages. The one consistent member of the team is the family and child and they are therefore the experts.
After our talk Othathali’s mother started to cry. She wouldn’t look at me because crying is not openly displayed here. But I could see her wipe her tears. I put my hand on her back and encouraged her in her role as mother. She told me she was usually so strong that people didn’t realize how difficult it was for her to watch her daughter continually go in and out of surgeries. She told me how her husband had died a year ago and that he was usually the one that accompanied Othathli to surgery. It had been over a year since Othathli’s last surgery (not counting the one a few days ago). It seems like so much for one person to handle, but she handles it with such strength and courage.
We accompanied Othathli to the theatre. She slept for most of the time, waking occasionally but calming with reassurance from her mother and I. The environment was so soothing and the sedation went very smoothly. I accompanied Othathli’s mother back into the hall where she gave me a hug and thanked me for listening. So often that’s the best thing I can do.
There is another mother on our ward that displays this strength and courage. Her son has been in admitted on the burn unit for over 3 months. She has been with him almost every moment of that three months. Every now and then she goes home to care for her other two children. She feels torn between her child in the hospital and her children at home. She sleeps on a mattress by her child’s bed that they bring her at night. She is so patient and kind and often looks after the other children who do not have parents at the hospital. Her son has some horrible itching problems. He scratches and scratches at his wounds. The medications don’t help much, so he is often miserably uncomfortable. His hands have been bandaged to keep him from digging through his dressings. His mother remains so patient as she tries to comfort him and support him. She, too displays so much strength and love.
The display of love and strength by these mothers is not unique to Africa. I can think of many mothers on my unit at home who have endured the stress of a difficult medical diagnosis, who battle with the daily struggles of long term hospitalization, who balance caring for their well and hospitalized children, who try to keep it together when they feel like the hospital is making them crazy. I don’t know how they do it. I have the benefit of leaving every day…of seeking renewal outside of the hospital walls. The hospital doesn't have to consume my life, but when you have a child in the hospital - it so quickly becomes your life. Many of these mothers relocate their lives to a small hospital room and continue to manage their daily responsibilities from afar. It truly is amazing. They truly are an inspiration. The least we can do is offer a listening ear, an understanding hug, a brief respite, an encouraging word, and always a respectful response to their expertise as the mother of their child.
In the last few days I have heard from a number of friends about struggles they are experiencing at home. It makes my heart heavy not to be there to provide the comfort that I so want to give. As I was thinking about my friends, I began to think about these mothers. There are times when the things they must do for their children causes them discomfort and even pain. The children become very upset and don’t understand why their mother’s would keep them from the comfort they seek. For example, Mark’s mom must battle with him daily to keep him from scratching his wounds. He cries and hits her, not understanding why she doesn’t assist him in the comfort that he seeks. But his mother knows that in order for his wounds to heal, and in the long term for him to find the comfort he seeks, she must not let him scratch. There are times she has to scold him or even swat his hands to help him understand the importance of following her commands. I think that often this same struggle occurs between our Heavenly Father and us. We feel like we know the answer to the comfort we seek. We desire the immediate relief from the pain we feel. But he says – wait. I know what is best for you. Wait…and while I know the pain you feel now seems unbearable, in order for you to heal, you must endure this for a while and the healing that will come will be a far greater blessing the temporary relief you seek. So for my friends who seek comfort – I pray that you will find the strength to endure this trial, that the blessing that comes will not only strengthen you, but will provide an even greater healing than you can imagine!
My afternoon was spent trying to share love with the kids who do not have mothers or whose mothers are unable to be with them during their hospitalization. At one point I had two large children (7 and 8) sitting on my lap and one standing between my legs. They were all participating in different activities, but just wanted to be close. The closeness got a little too much to handle at one point. ☺ The little girl on my lap accidentally hit me in the face. She felt so sad and started rubbing her hands all over my face trying to say she was sorry. The little boy on my lap must have been feeling protective and didn’t like the way she was touching me, so he hit her. She cried. He cried. They all sat there trying to get their emotions under control while they little girl standing by me stared in confusion and another boy on his bed just laughed. It was actually probably a very funny picture. I wish you could have seen it. We took a little break after that and everyone returned to their own areas for a little bit of personal space time. ☺ There are just some times when it’s hard to see just how these kids are craving love in their lives. And it’s hard to know that I have to walk away from it every night…and that soon I will be walking away from it for good.
All this talk of mothers makes me miss mine immensely. I love you mom! Thank you for filling my life with so much love!
I hope you dads aren’t filling left out in all my talk of moms. Your role is just as important, it’s just that moms were the center of my interactions today. Dad – I love you, too! You are definitely my biggest supporter in the entire world! I can’t help but picture you when I play with these kids. You would be so excited and they would love you so much!! ☺
Othathali went to surgery this morning. Thankfully the premed worked and she was knocked out for the majority of the wait outside the theatre. The surgery before hers ended up taking a long time, so we waited in the hallway for about an hour. Othathali’s mom was there, so I just sat with her and talked while Othathali slept. We had plenty of time to talk, so her mother told me all about Othathali’s story. Othathali was burned by fire when she was about 3 months old. She is now almost 6 or 7. She spent the majority of her first year of life in the hospital, undergoing numerous surgeries and painful procedures to save her life. Due to the social situation Othathali came from, she was not able to go home with her parents. One of the women working in the cafeteria heard Othathali’s story and ended up adopting her. Her mother told me about the way she felt God had been preparing her and her family for Othathali’s presence in their lives and that her addition to their family was truly orchestrated by God.
Othathali’s mom also told me about the role she plays in advocating for her child – both in and outside of the hospital. Children can be cruel to those different than them anywhere in the world, but it seems like physical disfigurement takes on a greater social stigma here. Tolerance is not a key topic in children’s education, so burn survivors often have a very difficult transition home. We’ve even heard of children being shunned by their families and communities following burns. Othathali’s mother told me how she had gone to the schools and spoken with the parents (spoken – threatened…it’s all the same around here. ☺). She also told all the children in the neighborhood that she had gone to the police station and filed an open case, so that any child caught making fun of or hurting Othathli would immediately be prosecuted and their parents would go to jail. I’m not suggesting this is the newest model we should use for school reentry, but it does illustrate what a mother will do to protect her child from emotional pain. She is doing the best she can what she has in order to protect her child.
Othathali also discussed her role as an advocate for her daughter in the hospital. She is constantly asking questions and wanting to be at the forefront of her daughters care. She told me that she worries that the doctors think she is annoying or bothersome because she always needs to know what is going on and feel in control. I encouraged her in taking leadership of her child’s care, reminding her that she is the expert on Othathali. I said I wished there were more parents able to take on the role as advocate for their child. I think that is often a difficult role for parents to navigate. We as medical personnel need to take it upon ourselves to encourage parents in that role and give them the tools necessary to achieve success as the expert in their child’s care. Parents should never be made to feel bothersome because they are seeking information or wanting to take part in their child’s care. True family centered care recognizes the family as the constant in that child’s life. Doctors come and go with different ideas and different messages. The one consistent member of the team is the family and child and they are therefore the experts.
After our talk Othathali’s mother started to cry. She wouldn’t look at me because crying is not openly displayed here. But I could see her wipe her tears. I put my hand on her back and encouraged her in her role as mother. She told me she was usually so strong that people didn’t realize how difficult it was for her to watch her daughter continually go in and out of surgeries. She told me how her husband had died a year ago and that he was usually the one that accompanied Othathli to surgery. It had been over a year since Othathli’s last surgery (not counting the one a few days ago). It seems like so much for one person to handle, but she handles it with such strength and courage.
We accompanied Othathli to the theatre. She slept for most of the time, waking occasionally but calming with reassurance from her mother and I. The environment was so soothing and the sedation went very smoothly. I accompanied Othathli’s mother back into the hall where she gave me a hug and thanked me for listening. So often that’s the best thing I can do.
There is another mother on our ward that displays this strength and courage. Her son has been in admitted on the burn unit for over 3 months. She has been with him almost every moment of that three months. Every now and then she goes home to care for her other two children. She feels torn between her child in the hospital and her children at home. She sleeps on a mattress by her child’s bed that they bring her at night. She is so patient and kind and often looks after the other children who do not have parents at the hospital. Her son has some horrible itching problems. He scratches and scratches at his wounds. The medications don’t help much, so he is often miserably uncomfortable. His hands have been bandaged to keep him from digging through his dressings. His mother remains so patient as she tries to comfort him and support him. She, too displays so much strength and love.
The display of love and strength by these mothers is not unique to Africa. I can think of many mothers on my unit at home who have endured the stress of a difficult medical diagnosis, who battle with the daily struggles of long term hospitalization, who balance caring for their well and hospitalized children, who try to keep it together when they feel like the hospital is making them crazy. I don’t know how they do it. I have the benefit of leaving every day…of seeking renewal outside of the hospital walls. The hospital doesn't have to consume my life, but when you have a child in the hospital - it so quickly becomes your life. Many of these mothers relocate their lives to a small hospital room and continue to manage their daily responsibilities from afar. It truly is amazing. They truly are an inspiration. The least we can do is offer a listening ear, an understanding hug, a brief respite, an encouraging word, and always a respectful response to their expertise as the mother of their child.
In the last few days I have heard from a number of friends about struggles they are experiencing at home. It makes my heart heavy not to be there to provide the comfort that I so want to give. As I was thinking about my friends, I began to think about these mothers. There are times when the things they must do for their children causes them discomfort and even pain. The children become very upset and don’t understand why their mother’s would keep them from the comfort they seek. For example, Mark’s mom must battle with him daily to keep him from scratching his wounds. He cries and hits her, not understanding why she doesn’t assist him in the comfort that he seeks. But his mother knows that in order for his wounds to heal, and in the long term for him to find the comfort he seeks, she must not let him scratch. There are times she has to scold him or even swat his hands to help him understand the importance of following her commands. I think that often this same struggle occurs between our Heavenly Father and us. We feel like we know the answer to the comfort we seek. We desire the immediate relief from the pain we feel. But he says – wait. I know what is best for you. Wait…and while I know the pain you feel now seems unbearable, in order for you to heal, you must endure this for a while and the healing that will come will be a far greater blessing the temporary relief you seek. So for my friends who seek comfort – I pray that you will find the strength to endure this trial, that the blessing that comes will not only strengthen you, but will provide an even greater healing than you can imagine!
My afternoon was spent trying to share love with the kids who do not have mothers or whose mothers are unable to be with them during their hospitalization. At one point I had two large children (7 and 8) sitting on my lap and one standing between my legs. They were all participating in different activities, but just wanted to be close. The closeness got a little too much to handle at one point. ☺ The little girl on my lap accidentally hit me in the face. She felt so sad and started rubbing her hands all over my face trying to say she was sorry. The little boy on my lap must have been feeling protective and didn’t like the way she was touching me, so he hit her. She cried. He cried. They all sat there trying to get their emotions under control while they little girl standing by me stared in confusion and another boy on his bed just laughed. It was actually probably a very funny picture. I wish you could have seen it. We took a little break after that and everyone returned to their own areas for a little bit of personal space time. ☺ There are just some times when it’s hard to see just how these kids are craving love in their lives. And it’s hard to know that I have to walk away from it every night…and that soon I will be walking away from it for good.
All this talk of mothers makes me miss mine immensely. I love you mom! Thank you for filling my life with so much love!
I hope you dads aren’t filling left out in all my talk of moms. Your role is just as important, it’s just that moms were the center of my interactions today. Dad – I love you, too! You are definitely my biggest supporter in the entire world! I can’t help but picture you when I play with these kids. You would be so excited and they would love you so much!! ☺
Sunday, April 5, 2009
catching up
My punishment for not writing the last three days is trying to remember everything that has been going on in my life. The internet has not been working well and the prospect of fighting with it every night leaves me very unmotivated to blog. My apologies to all those who follow so diligently.
I’ve officially reached the half way mark and it seems like time is speeding up and everything is being crammed into my last 4 weeks here. I’ve been starting to feel it, as I’ve been somewhat lethargic the last couple days. I’m hoping to get a good night sleep after blogging and be refreshed for the week. It’s only a four day workweek because Good Friday is considered a holiday. The Monday after Easter is Family Day – another holiday, so I will get a 4-day weekend! We definitely need to adopt that practice in the US! ☺
So lets reach way back and dig up the events from Friday…
Joe (Missy’s brother) was admitted back on to the unit. It’s amazing how quickly kids can regress through readmission. Joe had been doing so well. He seemed to be coping more effectively with treatments and always seemed so happy when he visited the hospital. As soon as I saw him Friday morning back in his hospital gown and sitting in his bed, some of his sullen expressions had returned. He was very sad and withdrawn. He did perk up when I came to talk and play with him, but it wasn’t the same smiling kid who had been here for outpatient visits. To make matters worse, he has to be in isolation, so his sister and his new best friend he met at the medical house he’s been staying at have to stay 2 rooms down. Windows separate the rooms, so he can see them but can’t be with them. They keep motioning for him to come down, but we tell them he can’t. It’s been pretty sad for him. He sat a chair right outside his door and just sat there for a large part of the day. We did do some fun activities and he engaged, but he just kept looking longingly at the room two doors down. Joe had a rough time during the dressing again. He tries so hard, but it is just so painful. He looked at me and then just grabbed on to my hand and buried his head against me. I was able to get him to take some big deep breathes by modeling what I wanted him to do, so that felt successful.
I had a number of theatres that went very well today. The anesthesiologist commented specifically on one child I accompanied to theatre. She said Child Life had made a world of difference in his coping – that he was a totally different kid from the one that was admitted a couple months ago. It’s so neat to see the progress. I keep hearing over and over again that we can’t understand the impact we’re making because we weren’t here to see what it was like before. The surveys have been so positive and the staff is so supportive in wanting to fill them out. It’s so great to see that we truly will be leaving a lasting impact here.
Missy had a great day today. She was unattached from tubes, and was able to move about more freely. She sat up in a chair and we looked at a book together. She even talked to me, which was a huge breakthrough. We identified fruits and counted. She mimicked words I said and I tried to copy the ones she said (she was way better at it than I was!). It’s so great to see her improving. I think it helps her to know that Joe is back. She realizes she’s not totally abandoned here in the hospital. Missy has been having a lot of itching from dry skin. I thought she was just always shaking her head no at me all the time, but then I realized she was trying to scratch the back of her neck. I got some lotions from the OT and have been massaging them into her neck daily. She will just sit there with her head hanging, so I can easily rub on the lotion. She seems so relaxed when we’re done. It’s such a simple act that makes such a difference in her comfort and therefore her coping.
For those of you waiting for the update on Othathali’s second surgery- she ended up getting canceled for surgery today. It was too bad because the pre meds she was given this morning totally knocked her out – which will be good to know when she comes back tomorrow.
As my time here gets shorter, I’m feeling the need to find more tangible ways to leave behind lasting change at the hospital. I know that I’ve been able to bring change into the lives of many of the kids here, but I want there to be impact for kids to come. This week I’ll be working on a positioning for comfort poster to hang in the treatment rooms. We’ve been trying to implement those practices in procedures and hopefully a more concrete visual aid will assist with that when we are not present.
Friday night we got dessert at the Mount Nelson Hotel. It was (until the One and Only Hotel just opened up this week) the top notch hotel in Cape Town. All the stars stay there. I ate the best brulee I have ever had. It was amazing!! The hotel is beautiful – I definitely felt the country girl in me as I looked around at how the other half lives (and for the record, I definitely prefer my half!) ☺
On to Saturday…
Tami and I went to Camps Bay in the morning. We were in search of her favorite – eggs benedict….and boy did we find it! It was so good; definitely on my list of top foods since I’ve been here. (why is everything about food in this post!) I don’t ever remember having my eggs this way until earlier this year. I’ve now decided it’s my favorite way to eat eggs. Yummy, yummy! The tall glass of mango juice that accompanied only increased my shear happiness – not to mention the view of the ocean as we sat in the open air restaurant. We spent the rest of the morning on the beach trying to plan for our African safari. A friend of mine contributed money to my Africa fund specifically for me to go on a safari while here because she had always wanted to go and never thought she would be able to. In order to do the real deal, Tami and I are trying to work out a trip to the Kruger National Park. We found a really great deal, but are just finding the best way to actually get there now. I am so excited for that little get away!
Saturday night we attended the taste of Cape Town event. All the top restaurants in the area were there to offer samples of the foods. You got a certain number of tickets and used those to pay for samples. There were some free samples, however, so when we found those, we jumped on the opportunity to eat whatever it was. At one point a woman offered us a free sample of pig’s cheek. The free part registered in my brain first and I put the whole thing in my mouth. That’s when the “pig cheek” registered. I felt a little sick to my stomach. Not because it tasted that bad (definitely not good, though), but because for some reason the cheek of anything makes me a little nauseated. I’d never even thought of pigs having cheeks before – let alone thought of eating them! Anyway, I definitely took a few moments to think before eating any free samples after that. I later found out they were serving a free worm dish at a S. African restaurant’s booth – so sad I missed out on that free sample.
We ended our night of tasting with some crème brulee ice cream served by a couple of guys without shirts (not really sure why). One of the guys heard our accents and asked where in the States we were from. I said Kansas City – and started to explain that was in the middle (since most people here only know the coasts). He said, "I know someone from Kansas City." He went on to explain tell us about a pediatric doctor from the US that comes over and works in the townships around Cape Town. I told him I worked at the pediatric hospital in the US and actually knew another of the guys he was talking about. Small world!! I tried to find out more, but the lady in charge was yelling for us to move on. It was a cool little moment to be a million miles from home and meet someone who knows someone who is somehow connected to you – no matter how stretched it is. ☺
And finally, Sunday…
This morning my friend Jamie and I decided to go to church at the Mormon church in town. I’ve never actually been to a Mormon church, but my sister’s friend from Illinois served his mission here in Cape Town, so I thought I would visit the ward. The website said it started at 9 am. I tried to call the number and confirm the time, but there was only a machine. So, early this morning, we headed out (with another girl named Liz) to find the church. We had to take a taxi to one of the suburbs, but it only ended up being R55 (about a 5 USD cab ride). When we got there the church appeared all locked up. The gates were locked and everything. We tried to find people to ask, but no one was really around. Luckily we’d asked the cab to wait, so he took us back to town. We asked him if he knew where any churches were, but he didn’t. He even radioed his taxi friends and no one could help us. We thanked him for a R110 Sunday morning drive and began our search for a church (fyi. As you know, I’ve been attending the Hillsong church, but they were not having services this morning due to the jazz festival). We asked one of the guys that works in the coffee shop under our apartment, but he was Muslim and said he didn’t know of any churched around. The security guard wasn’t much help either. Liz dropped out of the search at that point, but Jamie and I were determined, so we started walking toward an area we thought had a church. We looked and looked and could not find any churches. I was starting to feel like we would never find a church and felt very sad about that. I said a little prayer and kept walking on faith. Finally we saw a woman and her daughter walking down the street. The woman was carrying a book called, “The Harvest.” That sounded churchy enough for me, so we started following them. We caught up to them at a light and asked if there was any chance they were going to church. I’m sure we caught them off guard, but our American accents make us less threatening. They said they were, so we asked if they would mind if we tagged along. I know – you all are probably thinking… Cara? YOU did that? You can’t even call the Pizza Delivery Guy! I never would have done it alone, but with Jamie we were feeling pretty brave. ☺ They took us to the Calvary Chapel church which meets in the gym of an old school. They made us feel so welcome! We sat with Dawn and her daughter Diandra (the ones we had followed). Everyone made us feel so welcome. They are a small church and could immediately tell that we were visitors – especially after hearing our accents. They loved the story of how we had found them and invited us back again. We are planning on joining them for the sunrise service on Signal Hill on Good Friday. When one thing doesn’t work out – God opens other doors for us to receive a blessing!
I wish I could be more insightful tonight, but I’m struggling to keep awake. Only 4 weeks until I come home. I am missing you all, but so excited for the remainder of my time here. I love you more than you can imagine! God bless.
I’ve officially reached the half way mark and it seems like time is speeding up and everything is being crammed into my last 4 weeks here. I’ve been starting to feel it, as I’ve been somewhat lethargic the last couple days. I’m hoping to get a good night sleep after blogging and be refreshed for the week. It’s only a four day workweek because Good Friday is considered a holiday. The Monday after Easter is Family Day – another holiday, so I will get a 4-day weekend! We definitely need to adopt that practice in the US! ☺
So lets reach way back and dig up the events from Friday…
Joe (Missy’s brother) was admitted back on to the unit. It’s amazing how quickly kids can regress through readmission. Joe had been doing so well. He seemed to be coping more effectively with treatments and always seemed so happy when he visited the hospital. As soon as I saw him Friday morning back in his hospital gown and sitting in his bed, some of his sullen expressions had returned. He was very sad and withdrawn. He did perk up when I came to talk and play with him, but it wasn’t the same smiling kid who had been here for outpatient visits. To make matters worse, he has to be in isolation, so his sister and his new best friend he met at the medical house he’s been staying at have to stay 2 rooms down. Windows separate the rooms, so he can see them but can’t be with them. They keep motioning for him to come down, but we tell them he can’t. It’s been pretty sad for him. He sat a chair right outside his door and just sat there for a large part of the day. We did do some fun activities and he engaged, but he just kept looking longingly at the room two doors down. Joe had a rough time during the dressing again. He tries so hard, but it is just so painful. He looked at me and then just grabbed on to my hand and buried his head against me. I was able to get him to take some big deep breathes by modeling what I wanted him to do, so that felt successful.
I had a number of theatres that went very well today. The anesthesiologist commented specifically on one child I accompanied to theatre. She said Child Life had made a world of difference in his coping – that he was a totally different kid from the one that was admitted a couple months ago. It’s so neat to see the progress. I keep hearing over and over again that we can’t understand the impact we’re making because we weren’t here to see what it was like before. The surveys have been so positive and the staff is so supportive in wanting to fill them out. It’s so great to see that we truly will be leaving a lasting impact here.
Missy had a great day today. She was unattached from tubes, and was able to move about more freely. She sat up in a chair and we looked at a book together. She even talked to me, which was a huge breakthrough. We identified fruits and counted. She mimicked words I said and I tried to copy the ones she said (she was way better at it than I was!). It’s so great to see her improving. I think it helps her to know that Joe is back. She realizes she’s not totally abandoned here in the hospital. Missy has been having a lot of itching from dry skin. I thought she was just always shaking her head no at me all the time, but then I realized she was trying to scratch the back of her neck. I got some lotions from the OT and have been massaging them into her neck daily. She will just sit there with her head hanging, so I can easily rub on the lotion. She seems so relaxed when we’re done. It’s such a simple act that makes such a difference in her comfort and therefore her coping.
For those of you waiting for the update on Othathali’s second surgery- she ended up getting canceled for surgery today. It was too bad because the pre meds she was given this morning totally knocked her out – which will be good to know when she comes back tomorrow.
As my time here gets shorter, I’m feeling the need to find more tangible ways to leave behind lasting change at the hospital. I know that I’ve been able to bring change into the lives of many of the kids here, but I want there to be impact for kids to come. This week I’ll be working on a positioning for comfort poster to hang in the treatment rooms. We’ve been trying to implement those practices in procedures and hopefully a more concrete visual aid will assist with that when we are not present.
Friday night we got dessert at the Mount Nelson Hotel. It was (until the One and Only Hotel just opened up this week) the top notch hotel in Cape Town. All the stars stay there. I ate the best brulee I have ever had. It was amazing!! The hotel is beautiful – I definitely felt the country girl in me as I looked around at how the other half lives (and for the record, I definitely prefer my half!) ☺
On to Saturday…
Tami and I went to Camps Bay in the morning. We were in search of her favorite – eggs benedict….and boy did we find it! It was so good; definitely on my list of top foods since I’ve been here. (why is everything about food in this post!) I don’t ever remember having my eggs this way until earlier this year. I’ve now decided it’s my favorite way to eat eggs. Yummy, yummy! The tall glass of mango juice that accompanied only increased my shear happiness – not to mention the view of the ocean as we sat in the open air restaurant. We spent the rest of the morning on the beach trying to plan for our African safari. A friend of mine contributed money to my Africa fund specifically for me to go on a safari while here because she had always wanted to go and never thought she would be able to. In order to do the real deal, Tami and I are trying to work out a trip to the Kruger National Park. We found a really great deal, but are just finding the best way to actually get there now. I am so excited for that little get away!
Saturday night we attended the taste of Cape Town event. All the top restaurants in the area were there to offer samples of the foods. You got a certain number of tickets and used those to pay for samples. There were some free samples, however, so when we found those, we jumped on the opportunity to eat whatever it was. At one point a woman offered us a free sample of pig’s cheek. The free part registered in my brain first and I put the whole thing in my mouth. That’s when the “pig cheek” registered. I felt a little sick to my stomach. Not because it tasted that bad (definitely not good, though), but because for some reason the cheek of anything makes me a little nauseated. I’d never even thought of pigs having cheeks before – let alone thought of eating them! Anyway, I definitely took a few moments to think before eating any free samples after that. I later found out they were serving a free worm dish at a S. African restaurant’s booth – so sad I missed out on that free sample.
We ended our night of tasting with some crème brulee ice cream served by a couple of guys without shirts (not really sure why). One of the guys heard our accents and asked where in the States we were from. I said Kansas City – and started to explain that was in the middle (since most people here only know the coasts). He said, "I know someone from Kansas City." He went on to explain tell us about a pediatric doctor from the US that comes over and works in the townships around Cape Town. I told him I worked at the pediatric hospital in the US and actually knew another of the guys he was talking about. Small world!! I tried to find out more, but the lady in charge was yelling for us to move on. It was a cool little moment to be a million miles from home and meet someone who knows someone who is somehow connected to you – no matter how stretched it is. ☺
And finally, Sunday…
This morning my friend Jamie and I decided to go to church at the Mormon church in town. I’ve never actually been to a Mormon church, but my sister’s friend from Illinois served his mission here in Cape Town, so I thought I would visit the ward. The website said it started at 9 am. I tried to call the number and confirm the time, but there was only a machine. So, early this morning, we headed out (with another girl named Liz) to find the church. We had to take a taxi to one of the suburbs, but it only ended up being R55 (about a 5 USD cab ride). When we got there the church appeared all locked up. The gates were locked and everything. We tried to find people to ask, but no one was really around. Luckily we’d asked the cab to wait, so he took us back to town. We asked him if he knew where any churches were, but he didn’t. He even radioed his taxi friends and no one could help us. We thanked him for a R110 Sunday morning drive and began our search for a church (fyi. As you know, I’ve been attending the Hillsong church, but they were not having services this morning due to the jazz festival). We asked one of the guys that works in the coffee shop under our apartment, but he was Muslim and said he didn’t know of any churched around. The security guard wasn’t much help either. Liz dropped out of the search at that point, but Jamie and I were determined, so we started walking toward an area we thought had a church. We looked and looked and could not find any churches. I was starting to feel like we would never find a church and felt very sad about that. I said a little prayer and kept walking on faith. Finally we saw a woman and her daughter walking down the street. The woman was carrying a book called, “The Harvest.” That sounded churchy enough for me, so we started following them. We caught up to them at a light and asked if there was any chance they were going to church. I’m sure we caught them off guard, but our American accents make us less threatening. They said they were, so we asked if they would mind if we tagged along. I know – you all are probably thinking… Cara? YOU did that? You can’t even call the Pizza Delivery Guy! I never would have done it alone, but with Jamie we were feeling pretty brave. ☺ They took us to the Calvary Chapel church which meets in the gym of an old school. They made us feel so welcome! We sat with Dawn and her daughter Diandra (the ones we had followed). Everyone made us feel so welcome. They are a small church and could immediately tell that we were visitors – especially after hearing our accents. They loved the story of how we had found them and invited us back again. We are planning on joining them for the sunrise service on Signal Hill on Good Friday. When one thing doesn’t work out – God opens other doors for us to receive a blessing!
I wish I could be more insightful tonight, but I’m struggling to keep awake. Only 4 weeks until I come home. I am missing you all, but so excited for the remainder of my time here. I love you more than you can imagine! God bless.
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