screening day

Two days...over 2,000 people screened.  

Its difficult to find the words to adequately describe it.  I'm not sure where to begin really...  

I'll never forget driving up and the first thing I see is the LONG line of people (and it was EARLY)! I remember them telling us the day before that people were already beginning to line up.  

They are going to get so tired. Such hope. God, please, may we be able to help them all.

I couldn't help but contrast this to the lines of Black Friday or a movie premiere in the states. How selfish and petty those seem now in comparison.  Two very different worlds. Or how Jesus often couldn't get away from the crowds of people desperate for His healing touch.  

We screened for over eight hours.  People kept coming. Yet, Jesus always had compassion, even when He was weary in body and spirit.

I am still amazed at how long people waited and sat through the different stations. And how cooperative they were. 

We had staff going around giving water and bread to the people.  In a way, I felt like I was witnessing a modern-day feeding of the 5,000.

I was part of the team of nurses that took the patients' vital signs and medical history.  These were people that passed the pre-screening. So, there was much hope and relief when I saw them. Even though I worked with a translator, I found there was so much I wanted to say, to communicate that time wouldn't allow. 

My translator was Timothy (good name :)  By the middle of the day, we had quite the system.  He had most of the questions I asked memorized and so would anticipate them.  We worked well together.  Most had never even seen a doctor before.  There were things in their history that could easily have been treated back home. That was probably one of the most difficult things.  Seeing and hearing about conditions that could easily be treated or taken care of if they had access to medical care and adequate medical care. The occurence of malaria is almost like the common cold back home. We asked when they last had it, rather than if they've had it before. 

I saw a two-year old boy who was sleeping. He looked warm and he slept through the thermometer under his arm. He had a fever over 102. I told mom he needed tylenol. But, I didn't know when, how, or if she could get tylenol. So, I went to one of our pharmacists and asked for children's tylenol. I gave her a whole bottle. It seems so insignificant really, especially when I administer tylenol all the time at home (and how easily we can get it). But, when she got up to leave to the next station, she turned around and gave me the biggest smile and I could read in her eyes thank-you.

In some ways, my perspective was limited.  I didn't see much outside my station.  We worked quickly, trying to get as many through as we could. One after the other.  Many I will see again over the next ten months when they arrive on the ward after their surgery...

It wasn't all happy, I know. The team that was pre-screening had to turn away over 500 people the first day. Not because we didn't have room, but because they didn't qualify for surgery. They either weren't surgeries we could do or they were neurological deficits that surgery couldn't treat. We had a prayer team that prayed with each one that we couldn't help.  God is still at work.

But I felt God's presence in an incredible way.  Its hard to explain it. I saw Him there...in the smile of the lady with a huge goiter...in the eyes of the children...in the little child who was terrified of me (probably the first white person he's ever seen)...in the child with club feet...in the man who had only one eye because the other one was a tumor...in the lady who couldn't walk...there are so many...  It may sound silly, but I imagined Jesus standing in line with the people, walking with them to each station, touching me when I was getting tired or getting warm from the heat. I felt His presence hovering over that stadium. 

 

I am humbled to be a part of what God did that day and what He is going to do.  To give love and dignity to their starving hearts.  I am still processing it...what I saw and experienced...I don't know its full impact, but I know I'm changed. I don't know what to do with it all yet, but I know God is in control.  I know from my own life His power and ability to heal.  

We serve a God who is mighty to save!!  

The next post is a song we sing here on the ship.  In a way it describes the hope I felt in that big stadium, and the hope I feel for the country of Africa. 

(I don't have pics to post as cameras were not allowed to preserve dignity)