First Day of Clinic

I begin by acknowledging my limitations in sharing what has happened since we arrived in Sierra Leone.  Sure, I can tell you what we are doing each day but that isn’t enough.  I wish you were here so you could see for yourself because I WANT you to know.  Despite feeling inadequate, I forge ahead in an effort to connect you, not only with us, but also with your neighbors in this country.  I pray that God will provide the words.

Sunday was really busy, but also wonderful, tiring, overwhelming at times, and rewarding.  During breakfast (8 A.M.), we received a message that people were already filling the place where our first clinic would be held in the afternoon.  I couldn’t comprehend so many mothers with infants in arms and children in tow willingly waiting so long for our arrival. Then I remembered that many people in these villages have no access to a medical doctor and medications to help their sick little ones.  They love their children and face the reality that many will not reach adulthood.  I am thankful I can be here with such a committed, compassionate, hard-working team of people to offer what help we can.

 

 After breakfast, we went to church in Taiama.  I loved the fact that the people were so open with their praise and worship.  They sang in jubilation, and at other times, prayerfully.  I loved the drums that accompanied the music.  The scripture was read in English but the music and prayers alternated between English and Mende.  I was deeply touched when the pastor said a prayer for the Americans who were here to help the sick.  He asked God to protect us as well as give us strength to do our work.

I left the church ready to get started with our first clinic.

After a quick stop back at the University for a devotion and nourishment (both physical and spiritual), we loaded up four suitcases of supplies and medicines, adding them to the 10+ boxes that Robert and Ju had gotten earlier from the pharmacy. When we arrived in Njala, I knew the clinic’s location instantly.  I saw the throng of people and the faces of many children waiting with their mothers.  At that moment, the needs I had thought I understood became reality.  I felt humbled, overwhelmed, inadequate, and unworthy.  In this case, even a picture cannot capture the sight I beheld.  As I write now, tears rush down my face and I am overcome with emotion (just as I was then).  I thought it would be impossible to treat all these children in the five hours we had.  How could they be examined by the doctors, prescribed medications, and those prescriptions prepared and explained to mothers who didn’t speak English?  I could not fathom having to send any child away without being treated.

Picture our clinic – two tables (maybe 4x6 feet) and a few chairs.  We used one table for Dr. Selby and Tonya Nash to see patients and the other was used for the pharmacy. Think about all the supplies we had brought.  The space we had was all we had so we made it work. Just like the people of Sierra Leone, we had to be resourceful and I am finding that I can be. Within a short time, the clinic began.  I’ve worked with numerous groups of people in my lifetime but I can tell you, I’ve NEVER worked with such a dedicated group.  I can’t remember working any harder than I did today (and those who know me best know I am hard worker) and I was not alone.

We treated a total of 204 infants and children in five hours.  Very few of the children were deemed “ well babies” but when we saw a prescription sheet with those words, we rejoiced.  Children were treated for common things such as runny noses, intestinal viruses, and fungal skin infections that are much worse due to the hot climate.  Many were also treated for things rarely seen in America such as malaria, intestinal worms, and severe outer ear infections (similar to our swimmers' ear).  The sickest baby was the last patient of the day who had pneumonia.     

The highlight of the day were three sets of twin babies.  God answered my prayer, at the end of the day, we did not have to turn away a single child--every child who came to today’s clinic was seen.

Clinic ended, we packed up everything, played with some of the children who lingered in the community center, and boarded us bus to return to Njala.  As we drove away, we threw candy from the windows and the children ran after the bus to get a single piece of candy.  Supplies were returned to a room to be inventoried after showers and dinner.   The team gathered for debriefing and ideas for improving the next clinic were offered.   Afterwards, the “docs” made a list of medications to purchase for tomorrow’s clinic and 4 suitcases and 8 boxes were organized in preparation for our trip “across the river” tomorrow to Pujahun. 

I close by letting you know that some things that happen in Sierra Leone are “bloggable” (our team coined this term) and some are not.  Here’s something bloggable for today.  I haven’t mentioned the heat – I try to pretend it isn’t real.  However, the fact that Tonya and I sweated like crazy today attests to the heat but also the fact that one team member discovered that her toenail polish had melted onto her socks gives you an idea of the temperature.  Sweat baby sweat! It’s a small price to pay to have a chance to show God’s love and compassion and do what we have been called to do.