In March I told you all about David, the 13 year old boy
with severe malnutrition who we helped transfer to the inpatient feeding center
5 hours away. My colleague who initially
found David kept in touch with his father, and two weeks ago she got the call
that he was ready to be discharged. It
worked out perfectly that I was going up to Foya the next day, so we picked
David and his father up on the way.
He looked so different, his face was “fat”, he was walking
and eating on his own. He still is not
talking and needs to gain more weight, but it was such an improvement from the
last time I saw him. Everyone in the
hospital was wishing him and his father goodbye as we walked down the
hallway. David didn’t really notice – he
was on a mission – headed straight down the hallway. It was nice to see that they were well cared
for there and his father had developed relationships with the staff and other
families on the unit.
I was so worried when we first sent them that David would be
abandoned by his father. It is a long
commitment, and a role that women usually take, so I was thankful that his
father cared for him so well. We made it
back to Foya and my colleague helped take them back to their village the next
day. God is good and I pray that he will
continue to do a healing work in David.
It felt so good to see David return looking healthy and
being well cared for by his father, especially after the challenges in
arranging everything. But the very next
day I was presented with almost the same situation. I was observing and monitoring at the VCT
when the hospital staff sent a women for pre test counseling for an HIV test.
Hawa, our VCT counselor, explained that the woman’s 3 year
old son had been coming to the outpatient nutrition center for the last four
months but was getting worse, not better.
They admitted him to the hospital and did an HIV test this time. It was positive. Being just 3 years old, this means it was
probably mother to child transmission, so they referred her for a test. It came back positive. I sat there watching as Hawa broke the news
and counseled the mother in Kissi, the local language. She was clearly in shock, but she never
expressed much emotion. Hawa said she
was worried about her family and community finding out because of the stigma. Hawa encouraged her to initiate care at the
hospital, that she could live well for many years even with HIV.
The main problem, though, was Moses, the little boy. He needed to be transferred to the inpatient
feeding center, where we had just brought David back from. The problem was very similar to David, no
transportation, so I broached the possibility of transferring Moses in one of
our vehicles again. I was concerned about
his condition though, he was so malnourished and lethargic when I saw him, I
wasn’t sure he could take the rough five hour drive.
The next morning, I talked to the nursing director and a
medical student, and saw Moses myself.
He was more alert, had no acute infections, and was even asking for
food. Given the malnutrition and HIV were
chronic and there was no further treatment available in Foya, we decided to
continue arranging the transportation knowing there were still some risks. I had to leave that day, but my colleagues
made the final arrangements for the next morning.
At 6:30 AM, just as I was waking up, I got a call that he
had taken a turn for the worse overnight and was unresponsive. We were discussing whether to transport still
when we heard that Moses had just died.
My colleagues were there when it happened and I felt bad about that. I
was sad for the mother who just found out she has HIV, then her baby died. However, I am thankful it did not happen in
the car, and I am thankful that Moses is not in pain and is with his heavenly
father now.
That morning in devotions we sang “How Great Thou Art”. It reminds me that despite anything that
happens on this earth, God is great and God is in control. I don’t know why David is healthy and
improving and Moses died, but God loves and cares for both of them. We can do what we can to help people, but
their lives and our own lives are in God’s hands. It is comforting remembering this, even if it
is sometimes sad.
“Then sings my soul,
my savior God to thee, how great thou art, how great thou art”
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