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.
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