I
heard the lock on my door clicking in the wee hours of the morning,
daybreak had not yet come. My first thought was, Something is wrong,
very, very wrong! I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. My room mate
was standing there with her phone in her hands. "The Orphanage called, "
she said. My heart sank. I frequently turn off my phone as I'm going to
bed because in Cameroon, it's customary to call ANYTIME of the day or
night, and sometimes it's just to say hello. As most of you know, I get
very little sleep as it is, so being woken in the middle of the night or
early in the morning for a non emergency just isn't fun for me. Most
people that know the roomie and I will call her if they can't find me...
The
past few weeks have been hectic with numerous calls from the orphanage
about sick children. There are so many children and not enough workers
or resources for them to handle everything that they need. Medical Care
and Nurturing care for children in general is close to my heart and I
would give my right arm for just about any child who needs help so...
This
morning was no exception. There were 2 children in need and one child
in serious condition. He hadn't eaten for 2 days, was refusing drink and
had been up the entire night raging with fever. His care giver at the
orphanage was beside herself. She has 10 other children 2 years of age
and younger as well as several more that are 5 yrs. or younger and many
of them were sick as well.
I
immediately called our favorite driver and asked him if he was
available and how quickly he could come pick me up. He said 30 minutes.
The roomie and I chatted about a few other things and asked each other,
"What are we going to do? We can't keep going like this and we need to
figure out some solutions. Why are so many children sick? How do we cut
down the malaria diagnosis? God, What do we do?" I finally got dressed
and out the door.
As
I approached the door to the baby unit, the primary caregiver says to
me. Auntie Yaya, "What do we do? Look at this one, and this one. See, he
has not moved since morning." Our little patient was lethargic, non
responsive and burning up! His temp was 103.1. I went through the list
of questions I knew they would ask me at the hospital. As she gave her
answers, my heart started beating faster and faster. I began to pray in
my mind. Lord, please don't let us be too late. Please let him be ok. At
some point I switched from asking to declaring. I had to declare life
over him as much for my own sanity as his well being. He is new to the
orphanage and I didn't know much about him. When I asked his date of
birth and they gave a date that was 2 years ago I stopped in my tracks.
"What did you say? Are you sure? Repeat! She gave the same answer. He is
2 years old.
How
can he possibly be 2 years old? This child doesn't walk, talk or do
anything that I would expect of a 2 year old. He looked like he was 9 or
10 months tops! I had observed him on previous occasions and noticed
that his arm didn't quite look right and that he had hardly any use of
his legs. I stood in shocked silence for a minute or two before I
grabbed him and ran down to the Administrative Offices to get the
documents I needed to take the child to the hospital. As I waited on the
Secretary, tears began to stream down my cheeks. I must be dreaming.
This child can't be this sick and have major delays in his growth. My
emotional roller coaster began with a vengeance. All I could do was weep
and pray.
Part 2 coming soon.
Part 2 coming soon.
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