Ally's blog

My sister-in-law had a great post recently. Here's her blog if you're interested: http://www.demasiada.blogspot.com/
Lot's of her posts are good, but this particular post's name is Energy.

On the way to work last night...

Mormons tried to convert me, and a random man tried to sell me drugs. I mean I was right in front of the medical center, wearing my scrubs, and the man came up to me and just started talking. And I, being the nice person I am, talked back. And then he introduced himself and stuck out his hand to shake mine, and I went to shake it and at the last second, I saw that there was something in his hand, and I quickly retracted mine and said, "What is that? Are those drugs? I don't do drugs. Get away from me." I looked around to see if there was a policeman handy, but there wasn't. I realize that lots of people have been approached like this before, but not me. I'm not from the big city. It just surprised me that this dude was doing this right in front of the med center to medical professionals. I've heard the statistics that there is a lot of drug abuse among medical professionals, but I guess this experiece brought it home for me, seeing that someone was actually targetting medical professionals. From what I hear, I'm sure this won't be the last time I get offered drugs while living in San Francisco. It probably won't be the last time the Mormons try and talk to me about the Bible either, since their church is just a block or so from my house. That's fine. I would love to talk to them about the Bible.

The Night of Never-ending Should'ves

The following was written at 5:45 AM, when I finally got home from my little adventure:

So, Brad and I went to San Jose tonight for a young professionals retreat. If you have your own car, San Jose is about an hour south of San Francisco. If you don’t, it can take quite a bit longer… So, upon arriving at the hotel where the retreat is being held at, we promptly ask the front desk if they have information on Caltrain’s departure schedule, because we wanted to make sure to leave in enough time to catch the last train out. Well, the clerk looked it up and told us that there was a train that left every 30 minutes all night long. (Should've #1- We should've questioned that, because a train every 30 mins all night long would be quite something.) So, at 1:00 AM someone dropped us off at the station, where Brad and I proceeded to wait for ANYONE to show up for 30 mins. There was a train there, and it was running like it was going to go, but there was nobody around. Anyhow, finally a maintenance guy showed up and told us the last train left a 10:30 PM. (Should’ve #2- the 5 P’s- Prior Planning Prevents Poor Performance). So, we decide to go back to the hotel to figure out what to do. We get in the taxi, and he tells us that it’s going to cost $30 to get to the hotel and about $80-$90 to get to San Francisco. We thought, well, it’s a lot better deal to just go back to San Francisco, because otherwise we were going to have to pay for hotel rooms. (Should’ve #3- Why trust a cab driver that says that? San Francisco is far away. OF COURSE it’s going to cost a buttload to get there! Plus once we get out of San Jose, this dude isn’t going to be familiar with the streets.) So, once we surpassed the $100 mark, we were getting antsy to get out of the cab. We thought that we had arrived in the outskirts of San Fran. We were at San Bruno Blvd, and from the map it looked like a bus was going to pass right by. We say goodbye to the driver. (Should’ve #4- Know where the stink you are! We were not yet in San Francisco. We were in San Bruno. And no public transportation runs that late there.) So, this nice guy that’s a tow truck driver offered to give Brad and me a ride to the taxi stop. (No worries! There are no should’ves in this part of the story. Praise God!) So, this guy takes us to some taxis and that saved us some extra money. We get in the taxi and Brad asks about how much it’s going to cost. The guy says $20-25. We start going, and then I notice the meter isn’t running. I ask why not, and the driver gets all mad and says that we agreed on a price. Well, for fear of being kicked out on the side of the interstate, Brad and I gave in to $20. (Should’ve #5- Look at the meter right when the cab starts to see if it’s running OR bargain some more if you’re already in the situation. I bet I could’ve gotten him down to $15. Oh well.) So we get the that bus stop we wanted on the outskirts of San Fran, and then a group 5 teenagers rolls up in a taxi and get out. 2 of them begin to get into it. They were shoving each other and things seemed to be escalating. Brad and I crossed the street to the gas station and called the police. The police come, the kids had suddenly calmed a lot down, and the police leave. Great. Brad and I are left behind, too afraid to go to the bus stop, because these punks HAVE to know that it was us that called the cops. (Should’ve #6- I don’t even know, because although the fight didn’t escalate even more, it could’ve.) Thankfully, these kids finally gave up on the bus and crossed the street and got a taxi. Right at that very moment, the bus Brad and I had been waiting for came. Praise God! Because we weren’t going to get on the bus with that group, and we weren’t really sure another bus would come tonight. We had already been waiting at 45 mins. So by now it is also drizzling. And by the time we get to my stop, which is about 4 blocks from my house, it was raining quite steadily. (Should’ve #7- Brad needed his own umbrella. As it was, mine didn’t keep me dry with the wind and every thing, and Brad should've brought a coat with him. I would have liked my scarf too.) Now I’m home safe and sound, and this will be an expensive night that I will never forget. The retreat was just awesome and I wish that I could be there tomorrow (or today, now), but I can’t because I have to work the night shift tomorrow night. So maybe Brad and I should’ve just gone back to the hotel where the retreat was. Maybe I should’ve planned better in the first place.

BEING GROWN UP

I HaVe To ReMeMbEr tO TakE CaRe oF MySelF! I HaVe To RemEMbEr To PaY AlL of My OwN BiLLs! JeEzY PeEZy tHiS iS hArD WorK! WhO KnEw? WhEn DoEs THiS eNd???

Struggle

I’ve gotten a glimpse of dealing with life and death. I haven’t had a patient die yet, but a lot of my patients are facing death in the next few years, and some are facing a more imminent death within a year. Illness makes people act in ways they never imagined. Long hospital stays produce a struggle between patients and nurses. Patients become very particular about how they want something done. They are grasping for any opportunity to have control over something, anything in their lives, because so much at that point is beyond their control. They’re scared. Nurses are used to doing things a certain way, and they like it that way. Plus, they don’t have time to be bending over backwards to do things differently because a patient has emotional problems. It's a struggle because you became a nurse because you care and you like caring for people. It's a struggle because you don't have enough time to just be with patients for very long. You always need to be getting meds or changing dressings or taking vital signs or something.

Then you have your really needy patients. Literally every 2 minutes they want the nurse back in the room to do something for them. They’re lonely. They’re scared. But we as nurses don’t have time to just sit there or time to grab a Kleenex for them on one trip and then 1 second later grab some ice and then 5 seconds after that move the table to the other side of the bed. It really can get a little ridiculous.

One woman really weighs heavily on my heart. She doesn’t ever use a call light. She just calls out, “Nurse, nurse,” louder and louder until someone comes. It’s a bad situation because nobody is exactly running to her bedside, because we know that it’s not serious, but what if one day it is serious… well, if it is serious she won’t be able to call out, I guess. So anyhow, you get to her room, and she’s laying there, unable to do anything for herself. She’s hooked up to oxygen that’s going in through her trach and she’s got nutrients being pumped into her stomach because her swallow and gag reflexes are gone, and she’s got lots of meds being pumped into her veins, and you can see the fear in her eyes. And she says, “Will you stay with me?” She wasn’t my patient, but I stayed for a few minutes. As long as I could and talked to her.

I don’t want to live that long. Don’t hook me up to a feeding tube! Let nature take its course. I would rather be dead than confined to a bed with a million tubes coming out of me, lonely and scared.

tHe HoSpiTaL

It’s been a while since I’ve written. It’s not for lack of things going on in my life or new thoughts on current events. I just find that life is keeping me really busy and when I take some time out, I just can apply my thoughts long enough to write, although I’ve been longing to put some of this down on paper, or computer.

Being a real live nurse is very different from nursing school.

You go into nursing with all these high hopes and you know that people are not always very nice, but you believe that if you act a certain way, you can get anyone to soften a little, or you won’t let their mental illness get to you. Well, yesterday proved me wrong. Sunday proved me wrong. Saturday proved me wrong. I’ll just share about one patient.

This guy is going to go home on hospice care. So, there’s a lot of psychosocial issues there for anyone, but he was already mentally “off” before that. He doesn’t have an actual psychiatric diagnosis, but he’s on an antipsychotic medication and another one for anxiety, and it doesn’t take very long interacting with him to figure out that this guy is not all right in his head. One minute he’ll be acting like a fairly decent human being and interacting in a courteous manner, and the next minute he’ll completely go off and just be mean and rude. Anything can set him off, and you can’t do anything except for hold in whatever you’re thinking and come back later. After a few minutes he’ll be alright again, usually, and sometimes he’ll even apologize for his behaviour. I actually thought I enjoyed being around psychiatric patients, but this guy was ridiculous. I find myself wanting to get sucked into an argument with him, but you just have to hold it back. Smile and say stupid stuff like “I’m sorry I wasn’t here so that you could take a shower sooner.” I mean, I feel for him. It’s hard being in the hospital and not having control over your life, down to when you can even take a shower, but it’s hard to feel too bad for someone when they are going off on you, and the reason why you couldn’t come earlier is because you were getting HIS medication that he has to take in order for his heart to keep working. Not to mention I DO have other patients that need care too. So, from an objective place right now, sitting in my apartment, I can feel a lot more empathy than I do when I’m in this patient’s room getting told off. Too bad he had to wait 20 extra minutes. There’s nothing I can do about that, and he doesn’t have to be belligerent. And so the day was filled with lots of stuff like that. One minute he’s happy and the next he’s really mad. I kept reminding myself that he really had a lot of issues and couldn’t control himself (either b/c he physically couldn’t or b/c life taught him to be that way). The shower thing actually didn’t upset me in the morning. I took it in stride, knowing this patient’s mental history, but after you spend 13 hours interacting with a guy like this, you just want to scream or cry or both, but you definitely don’t want to spend another second around him. He’s been on the unit for a long time now, and none of the nurses want to have him. He’s so mean some times! We’re all there because we want to help, not hurt! We shouldn’t have to deal with people being mean to us! Nursing is already hard work without that. So, yesterday made me wish that I was working in pediatrics instead of with adults. Kids are a lot easier to love sometimes. They may not like you, but it’s because you have to stick them and they don’t understand why, and it’s not because they had to wait 20 mins to take a shower. I should have started praying when the guy first was difficult to handle, but I didn’t do it until I was just completely filled to the brim with frustration… "God, help me to love him as you love him. Let me see him as the child of God that he is." And then I was repeating to myself, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” That verse didn’t have a ton of meaning for me in the past, because I don’t have any enemies and nobody persecutes me. Now that I have to interact with some very difficult patients it takes on a whole new meaning. Not that these people are my enemies or persecuting me, but at some points during the day it’s a little difficult to tell the difference.

I don’t want you to think that I had an awful day yesterday. I didn’t. My other patient was very sweet and her family was great. Her family brought her a bunch of really good Mediterranean food. I know that it was good, because they made me eat some every time I went into the room. There must be some rule against that, but oh well. I tried to say no, but they insisted, and they were so nice, and the food was actually really good. I felt so bad for her. Her IV went bad, and she really had no veins. I didn’t even try and stick for a new one. Two very experienced nurses tried, and after 10 tries, they got an IV in. The woman was crying by the end. I know it hurt her so bad. One stick hurts, much less 10. And the place where they finally got the IV in is a really painful spot to get stuck and an awkward place for an IV.

Do SoMetHinG

Albert Einststein said, "The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing."

In his 1994 inauguration speech Nelson Mandela said, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Ghandi said, "The difference between what we do and what we are capable of doing would suffice to solve most of the world's problems."

Margaret Mead said, "Never underestimate the ability of a small group of committed individuals to change the world. Indeed, they are the only ones who ever have.”

Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."

Jesus said,"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" (Matthew 25)

Learn more about the GuluWalk. Help raise awareness about the children of Uganda that have been abducted into the Lord's Resistance Army to be soldiers and sex slaves. Be a voice crying out for the world to stop this madness. The walk happens this coming Saturday and it's not too late to sign up. Click on the link above for more information.

Adventures in San Francisco

So what did you do this morning before church? I took off in search of 3 printers that were to be given to me FREE if I only came and picked them up. Well, that’s a good deal and seems simple enough. But, when you don’t have a car and you live in a hilly city, that can actually be quite a difficult task. You might wonder what I want with 3 whole printers. Well, I only want one, but the deal was that I had to take all three if I wanted one. So, I caught the train all bundled up with a sweater, coat and scarf and with my carry-on bag to help me transport my precious printers. I get off at the stop that the website 511.org said to get off at, and then I start looking at my map trying to meander my way through the hills of San Fran. So I began my trek up a hill, and then down a hill, and then up and then down. Yes, getting to the top of a hill is not a good feeling, because you know you’re just going to have to climb another one at the bottom. So, I finally arrive at my destination, put one printer in my bag, strap another one on top, using my scarf to secure it, naturally, and then I carry the last one under my free arm. Oh yeah, by this point I have taken off my coat and sweater too and am just wearing my sleeveless shirt. P.S.- I was dressed and ready for church. Big mistake, because I sweated like a hog. Okay, so then I have to go back up and down hills again in order to get back to the train stop, and hiking while trying to tote 3 printers is difficult. Luckily, I don’t mind looking ridiculous, because I definitely did. I did finally make it back to the train stop and get home. My little adventure took me much longer than I had anticipated, so I missed Sunday school, but I did get to worship on time, stinky and all. It’s times like those that make me wonder why I left my perfume back in Georgia with my parents. I could have gotten a taxi at one point, but I wanted my printers to truly be free, and getting a taxi would have made them not free at all. You might be saying right now that the train costs money too, but you see, I have a public transportation pass that’s good for the whole month for unlimited transportation on any of the bus or train lines. So, my printers are free! Hurrah! I just couldn’t bring myself to buy a new printer knowing that I had a perfectly good printer back in GA. I think that’s the most I’ve ever done before church on a Sunday morning.

1.2 Billion! 1.2 Billion!

Click on this article if you want to know the source of what got me riled up tonight. 1.2 billion stinking dollars to be spent on a fence between the U.S. and Mexico, but we’re forgetting that when people are DESPERATE they will do ANYTHING. The people that are crossing the borders are desperate to find work to make money to FEED their families. They do not want to leave their families behind, but they are left with no other option. A wall will not stop them from coming here. Well, I’ll take that back, it will stop some of them from actually getting here, because others will die in the process because they will be forced to sneak into the country through more dangerous routes. This wall is to supposedly keep terrorists out (but we have no documented incidents of terrorists actually using this method), and if this is only to keep terrorists out, then why aren’t we building one between Canada and us too? I’m sorry. I know that governments cannot operate the way Christians are called to operate. I know that it doesn’t work that way. But don’t tell me that this is a Christian government or country. So many Christians in the South think that you’re a freak if you’re a Christian and don’t support Bush. I don’t. Christians are called to help those in need. I know that the government can’t work exactly the way Christians do, but we don’t have to do this either. 1.2 billion dollars. You know, Niger was begging the world for aid a year and a half ago as their citizens starved to death. 1.2 billion dollars. There are over 1 million orphans in South Africa, many of which turn into street children, because there are no resources to take them in. 1.2 billion dollars. And the list goes on and on. 1.2 billion dollars on a fence. Well, at least we’re not biased to certain parts of the world… at least we want every part of the world to hate us.

San Francisco

So, here I am in San Francisco. I feel like I'm in a different country even though they say that CA is a part of the U.S. Most of the signs in my area are written in Chinese, although there are some Korean ones, and one Hispanic market, but the signs do have it written in English below or beside it too. It is just wonderful here, absolutely fabulous! I mean, it's frustrating that there are no Walmarts or Targets here in the city, but at the same time it is refreshing and really nice to have all these neat little stores around, where the workers at your neighborhood grocery know your name and are happy to see you. I'm figuring out the bus system, and I must say it is nice not to have to drive myself places, but it is NOT nice when you take the wrong bus and get off in completely the wrong place and then you have to walk back to where you started b/c the particular route you took does not have just tons of buses passing by at every minute. I'm excited to start work on Monday and meet more people, and I'm excited about getting to explore the city more. There is SO much to do here! I'm excited about what God is going to do in my life and how he can use me in this place.

Cold

I am always very aware of the cold, because I am usually cold. As such, I am very aware of these little kids that are running around without any shoes on in tshirts and shorts when it is cold. I’ll be there wearing 4 layers… three shirts and a fleece, and then next to me will be a little boy in a tshirt, shorts, and barefoot. I was COLD! But there he was, smiling away. He probably wasn't cold at that moment, because he had been running all around with the other kids, but I'm sure he was later.

Leftovers

Have you had leftovers lately? These kids are scraping the bottom of the bowl for what remains after passing out the food at the soup kitchen.

Sing and Dance

Women breaking into song and dance after home healthcare class on my second Thursday in South Africa! It was great so great, and I got to join in. I loved it! They were singing in English and Xosa. They were singing praises to the Lord! How wonderful it was to sing and dance with them! They were clapping and stomping and the room was so full of energy!

Need

Need is relative. Luxury is relative. What are luxury items for you? In South Africa they include electricity, running water, and gas for your car. What isn’t a luxury item you ask. Simple. Food and basic clothing. People living in need. Need of shelter. Need of walls. Need of a proper sewer system. Need of food. Need of healthcare. Need of safety. People living in need. Need of a car. Need of new clothes. Need of a haircut. Need of a bigger house. People living in need. Need of a faster car. Need of a pedicure. Need of a diamond ring. Need of a sail boat. Need is relative. People in need. Need of love. Need of empathy. Need of comfort. Need of belonging. Need of joy. Need of peace. Need of Christ. What if some of us thought less about our “needs” and thought more about the needs of others and in the process shared the love of Christ fulfilling the ultimate need of us all. What if all the Christians really did sell their possessions and have everything common and gave to those as they had need. Wouldn’t life be different?

HIV status

Do you know your HIV status?

I went to a booth at the waterfront on last Saturday that was promoting a nonprofit organization that is combating HIV/AIDS. The man began to tell me about the organization and then he asked me: Do you know your HIV status? Uuuufffff. I was quite taken aback, and stammered, “Well, no, but I’m from America, and I don’t engage in risk taking activities, and so I don’t think I have HIV.”

What I learned:

If I’m going to tell people that they need to be tested in order to be sure of their HIV status, then I should get a test done too. I cannot tell others to do something that I have never done. They may believe that they have no reason to test positive too, but they may have a spouse that cheats on them and they don’t even know it. Or they may believe that it is quite possible that they will test positive and it is simply too scary to actually know your status. After all, there is no cure (but there are medicines to increase you quality of life and its longevity). So, next project: get tested for HIV, so that I can lead by example. I must admit thought, that this is not my top priority, but I will get it done before I start my ministry here in South Africa.

Back

I'm back in the U.S. now, but I still have several posts already written that I haven't uploaded and even more that are still just in my brain. I'll try and get them all posted in the next week or so.

Am I repeating myself

How do I describe the things I’ve seen in a place where the rich and poor collide? Can I explain the extravagant mall or the extremely powerful electric hand dryers in the restroom verses the shack made of whatever scraps are available? Or let’s move along to the house that is made out of brick-o-blocks and thus is a step up from the shack made of tarp and tin, yet it is still not much bigger than my parents’ bathroom. This supposed step-up with a thick cloud of flies circling about the heads of the inhabitants. What about the dog house just outside the door of another makeshift house with the dog house appearing nicer than the house. And then the man squatting in the doorway, with his cheekbones chiseling out from beneath his defeated skin. One hand lifted to his head, as if to run it through his hair, but paused in despair. Was it truly despair that I saw? I don’t know, but it did look like a defeated man to me with not much left to look forward to in this world. He has leather looking skin with deep wrinkles and clubbed fingers. The clubbing happens over time when a person’s body is not receiving enough oxygen. In his case it’s TB that’s affecting him. We’re here today, because we need to give him an injection of medicine. He’s now battling TB for the second time, and therefore, he is on a different treatment for more resistant strains.

We move along to another house, to a lifeless heap beneath a mound of blankets, but sitting in the doorway is her mother, who is five times my size. The heap is a seventeen year old girl dieing of AIDS, who is presently infected with TB, and just had a baby a few months ago. She tried to abort the baby by swallowing poison, which did not in fact do anything to the baby but did cause her to go into labor (but it was okay because she was at term, even though she thought she was only five months along) and then she had to have a hysterectomy and they sliced her wide open vertically with an incision much bigger than anything I’ve ever learned of. She then got an infection, and they had to do surgery again, and then she was sent home with tubes draining fluid from her chest. She came close to death, but I guess that it is not her time yet, because now she appears to be improving. She can’t take ARV’s for the HIV because the TB is in her stomach and she often vomits whatever she takes. She’s depressed, lacking the will to take care of her baby or herself. I can see why. Seventeen is such a hopeful age, but not for her. For her there are few dreams of what the future will bring.

Then there was the thirteen year old girl that came to the clinic today. She has TB too, and also just had a baby. Her boyfriend is in prison now. The nurse tried to explain the benefits of being tested for HIV, but that was beyond this young girl who cannot write her own name and has a baby of her own. It’s very likely that she has been infected given her situation.

Today was the first day for this clinic to ever offer testing. They had been advertising it for three weeks and telling all of their patients about the benefits of knowing their HIV status. Two people came to be tested. People just don’t want to know their status. Out of sight, out of mind. And why would it be any different with a president that doesn’t believe that HIV causes AIDs. With a vice president that has sex with an HIV + person without a condom but says that he showered well afterwards and so is safe. With a prime minister of health that advocates the use of beet root, garlic and lemon juice to cure HIV. Why would you want to be test if you risk losing your job, your family, and your friendships because of the status?

Nature vs. Nurture

So, It's really hard to remember that the driver sits on the left hand side of the car, and that people drive on the left hand side of the road, and that when you walk on the sidewalk and someon else is approaching, they are going to take their rightful place on the LEFT side of the sidewalk. It's so hard to change this automatic pattern of thought. Makes me think of how hard it is to change someone's actions when from the moment they've been born, it's all they've ever known. Sleep around. Do drugs. Get drunk. Don't trust doctors. Be in a gang. Having a kerosene stove in your house with all the windows and doors closed is okay. ARV's will not help you; they will make you die. There's a lot of unlearning to do.

Captivity

So I went to the bathroom, and while I was in there a security person came and locked the gate into the bathroom. Luckily, the people I was with were within earshot. So, one of them went and found the security person, while the other took my picture during my brief moment of bathroom bondage.

Chocolate

I wanted to learn more about the local culture, so I decided to conquer the native chocolate.

Already conquered:




















Yet to be conquered:


It's a hard job, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice. :)

TAXI

I am becoming quite the little rider of taxi vans here in South Africa. They have the traditional taxis here, too, but they cost a whole lot. However, for about 60 cents I can ride on a taxi van all the way from Delft to Bellville (where I'm staying). I know that means nothing to you, but it's about a 20-30 min ride. Then I get off at Bellville and walk for 30 mins to my house. I like riding in the taxis for many reasons: 1) I don't feel like a burden to my host family, 2) I can leave when I want because I'm not waiting on a ride, 3) I get to be more in the every day life of a large portion of the population, and 4) it shocks everyone every time they find out I'm riding in taxis now. Well, apparently the taxis are supposed to be quite dangerous, and there are even richer people around here that say that you couldn't pay them enough to ride in one. Well, I have had no problems, and in fact the first time I rode in one from Nelson Mandela Peace Park to the Delft Clinic, the driver asked me when we got there (because I had a seat right up front next to him) if I was working there. I told him yes and started to get out some money (R4 to be exact), but then the driver told me to keep my money! Not only was I not mugged, but I didn't even have to pay for the ride! I really like the people here. I know there are bad people too, so don't think that I let my guard down, but there are also just a lot of really nice people. I figure riding taxis in the day time should be perfectly safe... the worst that would happen is that I would be pick-pocketed, and I 'm careful, so I don't see that happening. Afterall, nobody is going to actually just rob you in broad daylight with tons of people around (most likely as long as i'm not TRYING to be robbed by doing stupid things), and I resist my temptation to take out my digital camera and snap photos the whole way, so I should be fine, as long as it's not one of the days when the taxi drivers are having their wars and gunning each other down, and I would probably know beforehand if that were to happen b/c people have a tendency to know these things and tell each other if it's not okay to take the taxi. not that i would actually be in the loop on that, but i'll just make the committment now, not to get on a taxi van if nobody else is on it. so yeah, apparently there are different companies of taxi van drivers that are very similar to gangs and they have had some wars in the past. but you wouldn't know it now by the looks of things now, and so I ride happily along in my taxi van, crammed in a tiny space with 15 other people.

Frustration

A woman has AIDS. She is told to take ARV’s (antiretroviral drugs), use contraceptives, and use a condom when having sex. The lady shows up Friday with shingles (a normal occurrence with HIV+ people) and she thinks she’s pregnant. This means that she is not using contraceptives or a condom! Aaahhh! And guess what! She has had two other children already that have died of AIDS. Two dead children haven’t taught her a lesson yet! You can teach and teach and teach, but there are still people that do stuff like that. Even if the baby is not born HIV+ it will eventually be an orphan. Uuffff. Depressing. Just the tip of the iceberg.

One of the home-based healthcare workers was being assigned HIV+ patients to care for, and they came to a name, and she recognized the name. It’s the name of her mother’s boyfriend. Her mom doesn’t know that her boyfriend is HIV+. The law says that the healthcare worker cannot disclose a patient’s medical information, but it’s her mom. She talked to the RN about it and the doctor. Then she happed to run into the man in the hallway of the clinic. He didn’t greet her. He just turned the other way and walked off. Well, she has told her mom now, and she’s going to get and HIV test on Monday. Scary.

A man hasn’t told anybody yet that he is HIV+. Every person is supposed to have a treatment buddy, so that when they get sick, there is someone who knows how the medication is supposed to be taken and can take care of them. Plus, when the patient gets sick and has to go to the hospital, it’s always a bad situation when the family comes to the hospital and wants to know why mom/dad/sis/etc is there, and the healthcare workers can’t tell them. The family gets really frustrated and angry. Anyhow, this man has 3 kids, and his wife is already dead. If nobody knows he has HIV then who’s going to take care of his kids when he gets sick? Who’s going to provide for them?

Some patients to come to get tested until very late, and then they start taking ARV’s when they are already very ill. They die, and then the family thinks that the patient died because he/she took the ARV’s. The healthcare workers try and explain that it was already very late in the disease and that’s why the patient died, but some people will only believe that the ARV’s did it.

On the radio I heard the prime minister of health promote the use of beet root, garlic, and lemon juice in order to combat AIDS instead of ARV’s. No wonder family members blame ARV’s for their relative’s death.

What needs to be done? TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, TEACH, and then teach some more. Then scream in your room alone, then cry, then pray.

Describing South Africa

It’s difficult to describe this place. There are contrasts all around me. I am staying in a house in an upper middle class neighborhood here, and I travel 30 minutes to the town, Delft, where the HIV home-based healthcare program is. It’s not safe for me to take a taxi to Delft alone. But there are not bars on all the houses' windows (only some of them) like in Honduras. On the way I pass by shanty towns made of tin and cows feeding on grass in the median of the highway. At the same time, it seems like this place is very similar to the U.S. Nice roads, nice neighborhoods, traffic laws that are obeyed. There is the occassional horse drawn cart on the highway though. There are three race classifications here: black, colored, and white. The word colored sounds so ugly to the American ear at first, almost hurting to say it. It has been a bad word in our culture for so long, that it feels weird that these people here should claim that label with pride. The colored people are exactly as the word sounds—colored. They are people of color that are not black, so this includes all kinds of mixtures that can include blacks, whites, Indians, and Asians. The government is full of contrasts… putting up a front of being forward thinkers, yet the highest government officials do not believe that HIV causes AIDS. The prime minister of health says that “nutrition, nutrition, nutrition,” is the answer. The vice president raped a girl who was HIV + (but he was acquitted, so I guess I should say he had consensual sex). He did not use a condom, but claimed that it was okay, because he took a shower afterwards and washed off real well. A South African female is raped every 3 minutes. One-year-old baby girls are not safe from this atrocity. You see there is a myth poisoning the minds of desperate and depraved HIV+ men that if they rape a virgin, then they will be cured of HIV/AIDS. The younger the girl, the more sure you can be that she is a virgin. Many rape victims are between the ages of 1 to 5. ARV drugs are available for those with AIDS, but distributing the drugs is problematic, and many do not even get tested for HIV because they fear being ostracized by friends and family. Another mother is HIV+ but she still wants to have more children—children that will grow up without a mother. Hospitals are good here—for the rich. They tell the women in the general public to get a PAP smear once every 10 yrs! It’s not that doctors are ignorant to the benefits of yearly PAP smears, but that the government needed to make budget cuts, and so they made them with women’s lives. Once every 10 yrs is a joke. You can very easily get cervical cancer and die during the 9 years in between. There’s this beautiful ocean here and nice skyline and then there is the wasteland of tin shacks that sits on the outskirts of town. Out of sight. I haven’t gotten to do much in the way of direct patient care yet, but I have gotten to see a lot, listen to a lot, and learn a lot. I love these people. They are so nice. I have a million ideas racing through my head, and I don’t know where to begin. I feel so helpless. How can I ever make a difference? Things are so screwed up. How will they ever get better? How can I wait 3 more years to come back here? It seems weird that there are so many problems in this country because there is so much potential here, and because at times I feel like it is not a developing country at all. It’s definitely not the place with the starving children on the TV screen with the flies swarming around their faces. I’m sure there is a lot of malnutrition and starvation at times too, but not like other parts of Africa. Yet, they have a real crisis on their hands: AIDS. This slow killer. Not only will it kill individuals, but it has the power to bring down a whole nation if nothing is done.

Off to South Africa!

I'm leaving today for South Africa! It feels so weird to be going to a non-Spanish speaking country! In fact when I imagine conversations and encounters that might happen in SA I find myself thinking about it in Spanish. Hehe. Guess that won't help me much there. It also feels weird to be so dumb about a culture... I know all about Latin American culture, and people ask me about it all the time, and now I'm having to ask others about a culture. I'm so excited and nervous! I don't know what to expect... as far as the country goes, as far as the city goes, and living with my host family, the church there and the work being done. I'm trying not to have any expectations one way or the other! But... you know you, find yourself imagining... or at least I do. I have an over-active imagination. Gotta go now. Off to the airport!

My God is So Big

Things are changing so much in my life right now, but God is SO GOOD, and he is taking care of me every step of the way, even when I was stressed out and doubting. God has absolutely amazed me in the past month in how he is working in my life, and all the loose ends are coming together. There are still a lot of unknowns, but it’s okay. It’s just a big adventure awaiting me, and I know that God is going to give me the support I need for whatever comes my way. He has given me full support to go to Africa in only a month’s time, and he gave me a roommate for San Francisco that loves Jesus!

This song sung by Bob and Larry from Veggie Tales expresses my feelings tonight perfectly:

My God is So Big

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty
There's nothing my God cannot do.
My God is so big, so strong and so mighty
There's nothing my God cannot do.
The mountains are His,
The valleys are His,
The stars are His handiwork too.
My God is so big, so strong and so mighty
There's nothing my God cannot do.

"For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." Matthew 7:8

I must say that I have been very doubting in this in the past. Not on purpose…. But the reality was that I felt like if I asked, God might just say no, and then I wouldn’t receive… which can still happen, but it won’t happen if what I am desiring is God’s will. I was so afraid that I wouldn’t get enough funds for Africa… I was afraid of that 6 months ago even, and then when God finally moved me to action this summer to go, he then made it where I would only have a month and half to raise funds. I was really scared that it wouldn’t happen, but God is good and wanted to show me that it is not by my own strength or ability that I do anything, and that everything is because of HIM. I am so blessed! God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.

A Few Things

Why do people ask questions like, “Why don’t you have boyfriend?”? What exactly are they expecting you to respond with? “I have this really bad rash all over my body and it tends to scare people away?” “I have a horrible personality.” “I’ve only met loser guys.” “Actually, right now I’m stalking Mr. Perfect.”

Yesterday, two people asked my sister if she was my mother. Hahaha. Poor Andi, she really doesn’t look old enough to be my mom, just old enough to be my older sister. Which by the way is pretty stinking old, because I turn 24 this week!

I suspect that I might be a disgrace to my generation, because I don’t know anything about downloading songs from the internet. Oh well.

Where do I start...

Today was my last day working on the Infant Unit at the hospital this summer. I have spent 172 hours there, and I was surprised to find myself sad today. I’ve grown used to the way things are done there, and I like the nurses, but most of all, I love my patients. I love all my patients, but they come and go, and that’s not a big deal. But there are some patients that are long termers and will be in and out throughout childhood. It’s these children that you grow very attached to. You start to feel like they are a part of your own family. People have stories of patients they’ll never forget. I have one such story now.

I’ll go ahead and say it: It’s not fair! What’s happening to her is not fair! What her parents are going through is not fair! She was a normal little girl until age 4. She had her immunizations and then shortly thereafter things started going wrong. The first time she came to the hospital she walked in. Now she will probably never walk or talk again. She has severe spasms that have broken both femurs a couple of times. She cries out in uncontrollable pain. What’s happening to her is called degenerative encephalopathy, but the doctor’s don’t really know what caused it. Maybe it was a bad reaction to the immunizations. Maybe a virus. Now she’s six and the nightmare only worsens.

Her screams haunt me. You can hear them from down the hall. It sounds horrible and like someone is torturing her, but it is her own body that is her enemy. There is almost ALWAYS a parent with her… 4 months, night and day. That’s how long this stay in the hospital has been so far. Her mother stays with her all day, and her father stays with her at night. I was alone with her for about 30 minutes the other day while her father took her mother to the doctor. She began to go into her spasms and scream… it is the most helpless feeling in the world. And so I prayed. I just begged and begged that God would take the pain away, stop the spasms, bring peace, and cure her! But she continues on in this state. Why did this happen?

It seems easier almost, to have a child born with a disability, than to have a healthy child and suddenly have that taken away. You look into this little girl’s eyes, and it seems like she is still there, behind them, longing to speak, to tell us what hurts. She looks around the room from behind her long black eyelashes, and her mother talks of how it used to be. This precious little girl that loved horses and swimming. She is having fewer spasms these days than she once had, but it’s still really bad. And now, she does smile in response to questions sometimes. I know that little girl is still there, trapped in this tormented body.

California

I went to California last week to see if I wanted to move there or not, and then I took a little vacation with my parents down the west coast on Highway 1. It was so beautiful! On Friday I accepted a job offer from UCSF Medical Center! CA here I come!

Want

I want to do an internship in Africa for the month of September!

Extraordinary

I love getting to visit my parents. They’re also my friends and my teachers. I love the way we can sit around for hours talking, the conversation often turning towards spirituality, church, missions, etc. I love the way it just naturally happens and how they are truly living their lives in God and so, topics that have to do with our Creator come up constantly.

My dad gave me the book, Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust, to read. He said that I wouldn’t be able to put it down once I started. I took it dubiously, thinking that I would be able to put it down, because I had a midterm to study for and a lot of other school work. I was wrong. I finished the 214 page book in one day. I could not put it down. It is the story of a woman that survived the genocide in Rwanda. Immaculée Ilibagiza is her name, and she wrote her story in English (which is her third language), and Steve Erwin fine-tuned it/rewrote it with her in order to truly capture her story so it could be published. It is AWESOME to hear about her faith in the middle of the horrible atrocities that took place. What awesome faith! She spent three months hidden in a tiny bathroom with six other people (all sitting on top of each other) while the genocide was taking place. During that time they only dared to speak a couple of times and they did not dare to move except for every 12 hours, lest they make some noise and be discovered by the killers. At that time old friends and neighbors had converted into killers. She spent her days in constant prayer from the moment she woke up until she went to sleep. Her faith grew even to the point of forgiving her family’s killers, the killers that didn’t merely shoot her loved ones, but chopped them up with a machete. Her story is extraordinary. I highly recommend this book.

Mountains Beyond Mountains

“Of all the world’s errors, he [Paul Farmer] seemed to feel, the most fundamental was the ‘erasing’ of people, the ‘hiding away’ of suffering. ‘My big struggle is how people can not care, erase, not remember,’ [said Paul]” -Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains p. 218-219

“I feel ambivalent about selling my services in a world where some can’t buy them. You CAN feel ambivalent about that, because you SHOULD feel ambivalent.” -Paul Farmer quoted in Mountains Beyond Mountains

“Giving people medicine for TB and not giving them food is like washing your hands and drying them in the dirt.” -Paul Farmer quoted in Mountains Beyond Mountains

Moutains Beyond Mountains is a great book, and I highly recommend it, especially for anyone interested in medical missions and humanitary aid.

Change the World

"Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have." -- Margaret Mead

Invisible Children

I WANT TO GO AND DO SOMETHING!!! When will preparation ever end? I want to tell you all about the Invisible Children of northern Uganda. In order to avoid being kidnapped out of their homes at night by rebels and forced to fight, these kids walk miles to stay the night in a safe place (it’s been a while since I watched the film but I think it was in the basement of a hospital or maybe it was a warehouse, either way the conditions were bad and everyone was crammed into a space not nearly big enough for them all to sleep on concrete floors). Many children have already been kidnapped, and many more will continue to be, unless the world takes a stand. And the world starts with each of us. I know it’s hard, sitting here, to see what we can do. I feel that way to. What can I do right now? Well, what I can do is continue to tell their story, so that they won’t be quite so invisible, and I can give money to help support the cause, and I can pray for them. Some guys went to Uganda to find the story and ever since have been spreading it across the country. I saw the film at the World Missions Workshop at Harding last fall. The film is AMAZING, and you can’t walk away without having been profoundly affected. You can learn more about the cause and can purchase the movie at www.invisiblechildren.com.

Evolution of Dance

This site is so funny! Have a great day and enjoy!

Getting over it

It’s been a while since I’ve written. I have plenty going on in my mind to write about, it’s just finding the time to figure out what exactly is going on in my head to write about it and the will power to focus. I have a million things racing through there these days. But one line of thought clouds over everything else and keeps me from being able to sit down and write about other stuff. Life is exciting and I’m getting ready to make some big decisions about where to move to, but at the same time, that’s really stressful! I have to make decisions about where to move to! On the plus side, I am well loved, and so I have lots of friends and family in different places around the U.S. that are putting in their bids for me to move close to them. Of course, I’m only having to make this decision now, because one person didn’t want me to move to where he is. And that’s how this all began. I was going along, thinking I knew where I was going (at least in the immediate future), and then *wham* the breath was knocked out of me, and suddenly I only know where I’m going in the way off future and don’t have a clue as to where I’m going in 3 months. Funny how life goes. I’ve read more craziness in the news, but I just haven’t been able to focus myself to write about them. I hate that I have been so incapacitated lately by my own disappointments in life! It makes me mad at myself for being so wrapped up in me! One of my friends assured me that it is perfectly fine for me to be wrapped up in this right now, because it is important to me… but that doesn’t really make me feel better. I just want to get over it. Life goes on! Big fat hairy deal! People are dealing with a lot worse stuff. I know that 4 months from now I’ll be over it, so why can’t I do it right now!? Gggrrrrrrrrrrr.

Privilege or Right

There’s this issue: Is healthcare a right or a privilege? This is an ongoing debate and there are important points to be considered from both sides. However, I don’t think that the question should be “Is healthcare a right or a privilege?”

The question should be, “What can I do for you today, right now, in this moment, because you are human and I am human, and you need something, and I know how to give that to you.” It is not that person’s right or privilege, but it IS my obligation as a human being to want to provide them with a service that can drastically change their lives.

A mother brought her little boy into the clinic today. He has leukemia and is undergoing treatment right now. The medicine that she needs costs her $500 a month. She doesn’t have insurance, and she and her children are not legal. She has been able to get the medicine so far, by her own savings and by going to another free clinic, but that clinic does not have the medicine every month, and she does not have $500 just lying around all the time to use. We don’t have that medicine at Cross and Crown Mission, but we are going to try and help her. We’re going to try one way through the government, because her husband is legal, and if that doesn’t work, then God will provide a donor for this cause.

It’s just not right!!! This little boy has leukemia, and not only do his parents have to deal with what a life changing and traumatizing event this is, but they also have to search for a way to get the medicine that he needs. He has the type of leukemia that has a good prognosis, but that means nothing without the right medicine! It makes me want to scream and then cry! They shouldn’t have to worry about that too.

A Thought

You know, you hear those songs about the guy chasing the girl, and he’s all happy that he “won” her. Why do those guys feel good about having to chase the girl in the first place? Why aren’t they offended that the girl didn’t see what a good thing he was in the first place?

Top Stories

First, on CNN headline news, they were talking about the Gay Games. Do we have Straight Games too? If we did, wouldn’t we get into trouble?

Second, there was a story where come people married two rabbits—had a ceremony and everything. Some group got mad because they thought that the people were demeaning the rabbits. Give me a break! They’re rabbits! They don’t know what’s going on!

Third, why do we have a story on headline news about some dumb rabbits getting married? I’m sure that there MUST be a story more important than that, that didn’t get aired.

Sol's birthday

Today is Sol's 3rd birthday!

Super Hero

I'm 80% Superman! Go to this site and find out what super hero you are. By the way, life is good. School is good. Family is good. Boyfriend is good. Friends are good. AND, Sol's birthday is tomorrow!

Names

So, I looked up the meaning of my name, and different sites gave different meanings. They are: servant of God or to tie, to bind or to snare, and I guess to snare is the same as to tie or to bind, but tying and binding sound better than snaring. Binding makes me think of that song, “Bind us together, Lord, Bind us together, Lord with chains that cannot be broken…” or is it cord that cannot be broken? Either way, that song makes me put snare and bind in two different categories. I had a little paper thing when I was younger that said what Rebecca means, but I can’t remember what it said, but I don’t think it said any of the above. It would be exciting to me if it did in fact mean servant of God—much better than to snare. I looked up my nephew’s names too… Ashton- ash tree settlement, Haven- safe place, Gavin- little hawk, Levi- united, as one. I also looked up Sol’s, just to see if it was there, and it was! Soledad- solitary. Actually, I looked up just about all of my family’s names, some of my friends, and my boyfriend’s name and some of his family’s names. And you must be thinking, man, “To Snare” must be really bored! But, I’m not!!! I actually have a lot of studying I need to do, but suddenly, looking up names and blogging about it became very important to me. But it's okay, because I have my notebook open next to me; so it's like I'm studying... sort of.

Listening to God

The sermon today was on how God speaks to people. The first point the preacher made was that in order to hear God speak, you must first believe that God does in fact speak to people today. The second point was that in order to hear God speak you must believe that God will speak to you. So simple! But is it? I must say that I have a hard time waiting for God speak to me. I don’t like to wait. I like to just go ahead and do stuff! I guess I end up thinking that God doesn’t speak to me that much, when the case is that he probably does, but I’m just too busy not listening. I’m too busy making plans and filling my day with… well with anything but listening, but earnestly seeking what God is trying to tell me. So, I’ve been convicted! I want to listen.

Desperation

The CNN headline reads, “40 migrants drown off Africa.”

The article says, “Driven by poverty and dreams of a better life in Europe and elsewhere, thousands of Africans leave their homelands every year on hazardous clandestine journeys by land and sea. But hundreds drown or die in the attempt.”

The EU warned that immigration is a “time bomb” and of course the proposed solution to this is to form a joint Mediterranean security force to combat human trafficking, which is good because that would prevent deaths at sea, but it does nothing to fix the root of the problem, the reason why people are willing to risk their lives.

So, that’s right, it’s a time bomb. We have to keep them down. Keep them in their fenced off portion of hell on earth. Out of sight, out of mind. The condition of the human spirit so down-trodden and discouraged, that one is willing to risk his life that MAYBE, POSSIBLY he could find work in another place. Having knowledge that no matter how dismal conditions might be in the new place of residence, they cannot be any worse than the previous miserable situation they are escaping. What do you do when there is no hope of work, no hope of rain, no sight of relief, and starvation is closing in on you from all directions? What do you do when you must feed your child leaves in order to soothe the hunger? What do you do as $11 million (only a fraction of what was needed) in aid relief comes trickling in to your country 9 months after the fact, and by then the proposed $1 per person is now $80 because it is a lot more expensive to treat someone that is suffering from starvation. Oh yeah, and the site where they were handing out food is 20 miles away and you’re starving to death, so you are too weak to make the journey. I wonder if the tears are gone, if they have run out. If all that remains is the quiet desperation to simply not starve to death, because who will take care of your family if you are gone. But there really are few options by the time you reach the point of starvation, because even if there was a job to be had, you’re too weak and sick to work.

What is starvation:

Merriam Webster says:
Starve- to perish from lack of food; to suffer exteme hunger; to kill with hunger; to deprive of nourishment; to cause to capitulate by or as if by depriving of nourishment; to destroy by or cause to suffer from deprivation

www.merck.com states that starvation is the most severe form of malnutrition. In an effort to obtain energy the body will use its own tissue as a source of energy. This results in the destruction of visceral organs and muscle as all of the fat gets used up.

They are starving… or are we starving them? They are starving. We are not. We stuff ourselves with ridiculous portions of food. But, they are starving. We spend insane amounts of money on clothes, electronics, pets, cars, houses, hobbies, and the list goes on and on. They are starving. We don’t help. They are starving. I go buy myself another $4 frapacchino at Starbucks. They are starving. We are starving them.

Albert Einstein said, “The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.”

The Bible says, “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” James 4:17

I don’t know what the answer is. It’s such a huge problem. Where to begin? Maybe begin with caring… maybe care a little less about who Brad Pitt is dating and a little more about human beings that are slowly wasting away from starvation. And, then, maybe caring will lead to action, to radical lifestyle changes that say just because I can afford it does not mean that I should have it.

Words cannot express

Words cannot express how much I love Sol! Sol is my niece, and of course words cannot express how much I love my nephews too, but I want to talk about Sol specifically right now. Jarrod and Ally are starting the process to adopt her, and I would appreciate prayers that the process will go smoothly and that soon Sol will legally be a Brown. I only get to see her about once a year, and I can't imagine my life without her! She is just the cutest and sweetest little girl with the biggest brown eyes.

Taking Time

In the hospital and, I think, in general in life it’s easy to get annoyed with someone and then write that person of as hostile or demanding. However, if you make the extra effort to smile and be nice and ask about them and their day and if you have a little bit of patience, you will find that these people are not what they initially seemed. They, too, are somebody’s mother, sister, brother, or husband. They have a life somewhere else, and in that moment, when you first encounter each other, they may be grumpy, but we all get grumpy some times. It’s a lot easier to work with someone when the atmosphere is pleasant, and it only takes 30 seconds to set the tone for the rest of the day or evening. For instance, when a new nurse comes on shift, if she’s in a hurry and enters a patient’s room and he needs something and requests it in a demanding way, the nurse has a split second in which to decide if she will reply with kindness or animosity. And those 30 seconds will determine the rest of the day and the following days of care, because both parties will have decided that the other is kind or rude. People like it when they realize that you care. They really do. Maybe some people’s demeanors won’t completely change, because they are going through a bad time, but the relationship is different when it is based on care and respect. It doesn’t even take being hostile or rude to make a person feel bad. It can just be you in a hurry, not really listening to what the other is saying, not really caring how the other is feeling; it can just be you wanting to move on to your next task. That’s something that is so simple, but it’s really easy to get caught up in. Maybe I’m just young and idealistic… but if that is what it is, then I want to stay that way forever! A lot of us nursing students are that way. We notice different things we see in the hospital and it’s hard for us to understand how healthcare professionals can act the way they do sometimes. Surely at some point, they were also idealistic and truly cared about the people they worked with. I pray that my heart will not become calloused from years of service and that I will be able to (as Darcy says) look at people through my “Jesus goggles” and see them as the children of God that they are. Here’s a poem that I like that my boyfriend found and sent to me. I don’t know who it’s by, but the author of the chapter that the poem is found in is Richard C. Simmons, M.D. and the title of the chapter is “The Importance of Understanding Human Behavior to the Practicing Physician.”

What do you see nurses, what do you see?
Are you thinking when you are looking at me--
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes.
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice—“I do wish you’d try.”
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.
Who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding the long day to fill.
Is that what you are thinking—is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still;
As I do at you bidding, as I eat at your will,
I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sister, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet;
A bride soon at twenty—my heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;
At twenty-five now I have young of my own,
Who need me to build a secure, happy home;
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty, once more babies play round my knee.
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel—
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells,
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few—gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact the nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see
Not a crabby old woman, look closer, see me!

Hospital

Each week our professor assigns each of us a patient in the hospital that we have to do a careplan on. What's a careplan you might ask. Well, it's this handy dandy instrument they use to make us think through what we're doing so that one day it will all just pop into our heads in a matter of seconds but at the moment, it is a 22 page pain in the neck. So, the man that I was assigned to this week is such a lovely old man! He's just great. I didn't want this week's clinical days to be over because I wanted to continue taking care of him! The woman I had last week was really sweet too, but she wasn't quite as cognizant as this man, and so I didn't get into any big conversations with her. There was this other man that I had to help take care of too, and he has mild dimensia, but he just LOVED it whenever anyone came around (his family was often there visiting too) and would just go on and on about how pretty and nice everyone was. He was a hoot. So, I don't really have a point to this entry except that I just love taking care of these people!

New Language

I was studying for a test yesterday, and as I was reading it dawned on me that one of the sentences I had just read would have made NO sense to me 8 months ago. I mean, seriously, there were like 5 words connected together with words like "and," "is," and "or." And those 3 words would have been the ONLY words that I would have known the meaning to 8 months ago. It's amazing! I love it! It's a whole other language. Now I'm fluent in English and Spanish and pretty good at Medical too! Woowhoo!

Homeless

I think that the lecture I heard said that people that are of middle socioeconomic status are 2 events away from being homeless (maybe it was 3, but I’m pretty sure it was 2). It could be an illness and a lost job. I could be a death in the family and a natural disaster. Whatever it is, most people in the middle are unknowingly teetering precariously at such a status. That puts things in perspective a little more. It’s not impossible to become homeless—you don’t have to be a drug addict or teenage runaway to end up there. All that needs to happen is a series of unfortunate events.

A homeless man that went to Cross and Crown (an inner city ministry in Oklahoma City) a lot, got frostbite on his legs the other night and they had to amputate from about mid-calf down. So, the man was already homeless, and now he has to deal with losing his feet. How is he supposed to find a job in the midst of this?

A woman came into Cross and Crown to get a prescription filled for her husband (he was at work). They had become homeless the day before. We prayed for her and told her where to go to get the prescription filled for free and then gave her some food. There are special bags of food for the homeless there, full of food that doesn’t need to be cooked and cans that have tops that can be popped off.

I did an ER rotation in clinical last week, and it was interesting to see what the years of work had done to some of the people. Some of them were so cynical and didn’t seem to really care anymore. A lot of the people that came in were on Medicaid or had no insurance and one of the PA’s and a nurse really were upset that these people should receive care too. I understand where they’re coming from, I guess. They’ve been working there for years, and they see people come in that are not having an emergency but care is free at the ER and they can’t turn anyone away, and they see the taxes taken out of their paycheck every week after they have worked really hard and they don’t think that it’s fair. And it’s not. But it’s not fair for the person that’s on Medicaid either.

I know that some people on Medicaid aren’t trying to get off of it. I know that there are people that take advantage of the system. But I also know that there are people on Medicaid that are working hard just trying to make end’s meat. I know that there are people that have made bad financial decisions in their lives and have dug themselves into holes, but maybe they didn’t have a daddy teaching them all about that stuff as they grew up. Or maybe their dads taught them their bad habits. I’m sure that they would prefer not to be on Medicaid, if they too could have a nice job where they could make enough money to not have to choose between paying for electricity or medical insurance or food. But many don’t know how. They’ve never been taught. And so they live the only way they know how.

Mexican Presidential Race and More

The Mexican presidential race is on right now, and one thing the candidates have in common is that they want to make the economy in Mexico better in order to decrease migration to the U.S. People in the U.S. also want to decrease the amount of illegal immigrants, but they want to do so by pouring money into a wall to be built in California, New Mexico, and Texas, and by hiring police and military to guard it.... Hello!!!! These people would gladly stay in their native country if they could get a good job there! If people want to decrease immigration, then the U.S. should help bolster the Mexican economy and invest their money in Mexico and not in some useless fence across the U.S. Plus, it's not like a fence is going to be able to keep everyone out. The more deplorable conditions become in Mexico, the more desperate the Mexicans will become, and no wall will keep a man that has no hope left in his native country from risking his life in order to find a better one in the U.S. I also have problems with the idea that since I was born here in the U.S., I deserve more opportunities than the person that was born not too far away, but across the Rio Grande. I know that this is not how a country operates, but shouldn't it be how a Christian operates? How christian can a government really be, since in order to exist it must be exclusive and put itself first in every situation? This directly contradicts the ideals of Christianity. And while we're on the topic, the amount of Christians that think that they deserve more simply because they are Americans astounds me, but I guess it should not astound me, because we do that on a more personal level too. For instance, many times people will only help even their friends once their own lives are in complete order and they have accomplished all of their own personal goals or are well on their way to doing so. Why would I think that we would be any different on an international level?

Just the other day a Christian lady was talking to me, and she started talking about all of the lost souls in the U.S. Then she said something like, “We ought to bring back all the missionaries and save our own country first!” WHAT?! I could not believe this statement for several reasons:
1) American souls are NOT more important that other souls. People in other countries need to hear the Good News too!
2) Missionaries that have gone abroad have not done so on a simple whim, but rather they have gone because they have felt God calling them to do so. They have been given a passion to minister in the culture they have gone to and have been given unique gifts to do so.
3) There are LOADS of Christians in the U.S. just passing the time by filling a pew on Sundays. Why don’t we ignite a passion in our churches here to minister to the people in the U.S.? Doesn’t it make sense to teach people that are already Christians to act like Christians?
I know that there is a huge mission field in the U.S. that needs to be ministered to, and I admire the people that recognize that and are motivated to work within that field, but I don’t enjoy it when people are so ethnocentric that they do not recognize the need for missionaries to also “go unto all the world.” I’m fine with me going and other people staying, but so many people just can’t understand why anyone would go. Of course some people should go and some people should stay. That’s the way it works! We have been given different gifts. And no matter where we are geographically, we should recognize our brotherhood in Christ BEFORE we recognize any geographical bond to others. I do not pledge my allegiance to the United States of America. I pledge my allegiance to God! God is always good and always just, but the U.S. only is sometimes. I believe that I have been very blessed to be born in the U.S. and I am aware that because of my birth location I have received many opportunities. I am happy that I was born here, but I do not put this country above my love for God’s children. That makes me think of that old song that goes, “This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through…” Why are so many of us connected so fiercely to a country, but we are not that passionate about our place in the family of Christ?

Movie Ratings

I went and saw Zorro today. When I went to see the movie, I had no idea what the rating was. I think I assumed it was PG-13 and as the movie went on, I thought that it must be PG-13, but there were so many little kids in the theater that I thought surely not that many parents take their 7 and 8 year olds to see PG-13 movies! So, when the movie ended I checked out the rating, and it was PG, but they use cus words a couple of times in the movie (but I guess those words aren't considered cus words anymore because you can also hear them on TV), and there was quite a bit a violence. Although there wasn't tons of blood and they definitely didn't just outright kill people as much as a PG-13 movie would, they did kill people and it did show blood. I mean, people were blown up. They didn't show the results of the explosion though. You just knew that the people were dead. Plus, it had some pretty intense parts in it. It just made me glad that I don't have kids yet and so I don't have to deal with movie ratings that are not actually indicative of the content.

Psalm 121

Psalm 121
1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

This psalm really stuck out to me this weekend. I think it's because although I strive to be this independent young woman with an occasional "I can do anything you can do better" attitude, at the end of the day, I know that I am not actually that liberated and want desperately for someone to take care of me. I think that this comes in part from being the baby of the family and also, lots of girls want a guy to take care of them. I depend so much on my dad for advice about nearly everything. He's a good dad. He's constantly trying to make me be more independent, but I still always want to know what his opinion is, and I would love it if he would make all my business type phone calls for me and pay all my bills and take my car to get everything done to it, but he knows that I need to grow up, and so he pushes me to do the things I dread. If my dad isn't taking care of me, then I also have a big brother looking out for me. I think every girl should be lucky enough to have an older brother, because they are truly a gift from God. And, if my dad and brother aren't around, and some problem occurs that seems like something guys would know about, then I want to call my boyfriend. It's that protector role that is seemingly a guy role that I think attracts me to them for things that overwhelm me or I don't understand. If thinking about needing someone to help take care of me right now wasn't enough, I also think about how I need to have at least 2 kids in the future so I'll have someone to take care of me when I'm old. That comes to mind because of everything going on with Ganny right now. I found Psalm 121 particularly comforting this weekend, because there is someone that's going to take care of me always, right now and when I'm old. Plus, God is always going to be right there with me. I had a particularly traumatizing event happen on Thursday. As I was getting ready to leave Houston to drive to Dallas I noticed that my tires looked low on air (and that's a miracle that I would even notice that!). The traumatizing part of this is that I had to go to the service station all by myself to put more air in them. Of course this was only after several phone calls to my dad in Houston. That's the whole story... my tires needed more air, and so I put more in them. I know, I'm a dork, but I had never done that before, and I really just wanted someone to do it for me! My point is that, I had to do it myself, and I'm sure that there are going to be many more things like this as the years pass on and I may or may not have someone there to help me or talk me through it over the phone. So, I read this psalm on Saturday and it really meant a lot to me. Forget about the whole dumb tire thing now. That was an insignificant event that set me on a train of thought that took me well beyond putting air in tires. It carried me to all the places I may go and situations I might encounter in the years ahead of me. It took me to the daunting task of having to live life and try not to mess up myself or someone else too much along the way. I imagined myself in a far away country with problems bigger than tires occuring and me not knowing what to do, and I pictured myself old, losing my mind, and not being able to take care of myself anymore. But then I read Psalm 121, and felt the weight being lifted from my shoulders. It's such a simple thing, and I know I've read the psalm before, but it just meant so much to me this weekend. I don't have to worry! I don't need to have an earthly man around to protect me (although I appreciate them greatly!). God is going to give me the resources I need which may come in the form of my daddy, some stranger, another woman, or simply God holding my hand along the way and no other earthly person along for the ride. Any way he chooses to do it though, I'll be fine. So, yeah, I need to be more independent, but I get to be completely dependent on God.

About Ganny again

Ganny said that she didn’t know how to get in touch with Gene today… Gene is my grandfather that died 9 years ago. She’s never said anything like that before. She constantly repeats the same sentence over and over, forgetting what she has just said two seconds before, but she’s never forgotten that Poppy is dead. She was talking to Jarrod, and he was like, “Who?” She said, “Gene,” and he was like, “Who?” And she said, “Gene Brown!” Then Jarrod told her Poppy passed away a long time ago, and she said, “Oh I’m confused.” I can’t imagine! She thought Poppy was alive, but she didn’t know where he was or how to get in contact with him. How terribly frightening and confusing for her! It makes me cry. I don’t want her to lose her mind. I don’t want my parents to lose their mind one day, and I don’t want to lose my mind either. I think the process of losing it would be the worst part, while you still realize that you are losing it, but you can’t do anything about it.

Preacher said

The preacher said today that for the year 2006 to give up to God your biggest worry, your biggest regret, and your biggest fear. Seems like simple advice... the thing about it is, that initially I wasn't really thinking that I had any of those, but then if I look closer at my life and my actions, I do have them. I suppose everyone does, maybe some bear these burdens more heavily than others, but we still have them. I don't want to. I want to give them up.

mental illness

Rigoberto Alpizar was shot about a month ago in a Miami airport after claiming that he had a bomb. It turns out that he didn’t have a bomb and that all he had is a mental illness called bipolar disorder. Passengers said that the couple looked suspicious getting on the plane and that the woman was very agitated. Well, of course she was! Trying to keep someone in a manic phase of bipolar disorder from doing something is difficult! His neighbors were quoted as saying that the description of Rigoberto’s actions didn’t fit their perceptions of who this man is. Of couse not. Because when people who are bipolar take their medication, they can be just like you and me. I know someone that has bipolar disorder and you would NEVER suspect it unless told about it. I guess the story and the tragicness of it all really hit home with me right now, because I just got done doing a six week rotation at a mental hospital last semester. This is a rotation that I was not looking forward to, and I thought that I had no interest in mental illness beforehand. As it turns out, I think that it is extremely important for society to be informed about mental illness. It is not a hopeless situation with a primary support group for the person, but without this support, it does seem like a losing battle with an endless cycle of hospitalizations.

We have a tendency to view mental illness as something people can merely snap out of or as an illness that is the person’s own fault. However, a lot of different factors go into why people become mentally ill (some of which are genetic) and it is a long road to recovery. Some people never fully recover but instead learn to live with the illness and they use medicine to lessen the symptoms. I think we all learned a little about that from the movie, A Beautiful Mind. It seems to me that Christians in particular should be involved with starting community programs for the mentally ill and having buddy systems where you can be paired with someone who is mentally ill. I say this because I think that the mentally ill are the rejects of society today, and aren’t we called as Christians to have compassion on those rejected by everyone else?

Part of the reason we don’t do this is because we don’t know about the mentally ill. I didn’t really know about them until I had to learn about them in school, and then I didn’t REALLY know about them until I had to work with them for six weeks. Second, I think that we are scared of them. Third, I think that we simply don’t know what to do or where to start. I have some vague ideas of stuff we could do, but no real plan to put into action. Plus, tackling an issue like this is a long term endeavor and complicated. We like things that take little commitment. We like to throw out some money and feel warm and fuzzy about it. Don’t get me wrong, giving money is great, but giving time can be equally as valuable, because broken lives are not healed through money alone but also through a personal relationship with God and connections with loving people. Money is needed for resources, but people’s time is needed in order to put those resources to use.

One man I worked with a lot at the hospital is of particular interest to me. He made me wonder how I would react if he showed up at my church tomorrow. How do we react to people that are acting outside of the ranges of “normal”? I think that we avoid them most of the time. Maybe we’re civil towards them if we have to interact with them, but we certainly don’t warmly embrace them and welcome them into our inner circle. That just makes life too difficult, and if we don’t understand why someone is acting how they are, we’re scared.

Since I started learning more about mental illness, I have had to grapple with where this fits within my faith. How can freewill and mental illness coexist? If someone is doomed to be schizophrenic from birth, how can they have free will? Well, people are not necessarily doomed to every mental illness. According to the transactional theory (which is what I tend to agree with) many different factors cause an end result of mental illness, but many times a lot of those factors were elements outside of the person’s realm of control. For instance, the child that is born with a genetic predisposition and has an abusive childhood, resulting in poor coping mechanisms, suffers from some kind of life stressor at age 18 (this stressor can be anything… think about what makes you stress in any given week), if the stressor happens at a time when coping mechanisms are down or nonexistent, a psychotic break results, and once you get schizophrenia, you’re always going to need medicine, and a lot of people still suffer from symptoms of the disease even when they are on the medication. Mental illness is difficult when it comes to understanding it within the confines of my faith because it distorts people’s perceptions of their environment, resulting in actions that would not otherwise occur. Sure, the person has the freewill to react how they please, but when they literally hear a voice that seems real constantly telling them to hurt themselves or hurt someone else or their eyes see someone, when nobody is actually there, how responsible for their actions are they? These people are reacting to false perceptions, so although they are making their own decisions, these decisions are not based on reality. However, some deeply religious and spiritual people are those that have the most severe forms of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. I suppose that this is proof that free will does still exist within mental illness. These people rely heavily on God to get them through their mental illness, because they understand that God is the ultimate healer and that medical knowledge and medicine can do no more for them. Some would argue that God is doing nothing too, but that is not true. Faith serves as an important coping mechanism and we can really never know how bad the illness would be without it. Also, even if the disease is no better or no worse in this life because of their faith, their faith does give them a reason to have hope and to go on, and that is extremely important for chronic conditions that are severely impairing.