The Sunday morning after Joanne left for home escorted by her niece we got to meet, Emily was going into her biggest surgery.
Her previous surgeries had gone well and were mainly to clean things out, but this Sunday was going to be an all day surgery and decide what happened to her leg. Truthfully, being in the ICU again reminded me a lot of visiting Esther and brought back some of the emotion about her death I blogged about months ago.
For everyone it seemed very important Emily kept her leg. But for me the idea of infection was just too great. I had watched what happened to Esther and knew my uncle at home was struggling with infection along with other problems that kept him in the hospital. So of course I wanted Emily’s surgeries to go well, but I was more than happy as long as I heard no infection after each surgery. And you see I have never seen Emily in other parts of her life, but I could see this beautiful spirit, so as far as I was concerned that was all I really needed to hold onto. This of course is my selfish point of view, but I also wanted to be practical so I could give Emily support no matter what happened.
And then we came to that Sunday morning. We weren’t focusing on her pain or how to distract her from her pain. And we weren’t making jokes about boys or each other. And Emily’s sound advice for my future, which I still miss were on hold. Emily just had some things on her mind and on a Sunday morning started talking about a Bible passage she really wanted to find. It turned out it was from Psalms (121) and Jen had been thinking of a song based off the same verses Emily was thinking. It was really beautiful.
And Emily who had us all there to give her support and courage and pray with her, she was the one that had the message. I don’t know if she will every realize it. But I think one of the strongest things about her recovery is she really believed she would keep her leg and the surgeries would go well. She did not have any of that doubt that we take her energies away from healing. And as she spoke and told us how she knew being flown down from Uganda and the whole timeline of events made her sure she would keep her leg. Earlier I had been concerned her clinging to hope would make any other outcome too hard to handle – but then I realized it was her belief that was keeping her strong enough to physically handle everything.
So with everyone else surrounding Emily, she was the one who brought the strongest message I have heard on a Sunday morning. (Well she and her nurse that came back after taking her to surgery and gave us a message of her own. And Jen and I going over Hymns…)) and it was a long and emotional day, and none of us knew how to feel when the surgeon came out to report to us. But the muscle flap was working. One day at a time, one day at a time.
In the days after things weren’t easy and their was a lot of pain and a lot of other things to deal with. But that morning 500 stained glass windows would not have made that ICU room more of a church.
Psalm 121
A song of ascents.
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 The LORD will not let your foot slip—
the maker who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, the LORD 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.
25 July 2010
21 July 2010
Painted Faces/ Clowning around
Joanne had been to Uganda a few times before, but decided this time at 68 she would try clowning to make children laugh but also teach them at God is where Joy really comes. My experience with clowning comes for a little different place, but I totally bonded with Joanne over this. When she first moved out of ICU we brought down her medicine bag, it wasn’t until the next time I visited her that she made fun of us for bringing her clown make-up. So I borrowed her bright orange nail polish for a rainy day.
(There actually weren’t any rainy days and haven’t been for months as it is the dry season.) But we used some face paint from the World Cup and Rachel and I ended up painting our faces to clown in the clown’s hospital room. The nail polish I put on earlier and we are talking brighter than orange highlighter. In fact I woke up frightened a few times.
Jen distracted Joanne as we finished getting ready at the mirror in her room and we had a wonderful time laughing with Joanne when she saw us. And the hospital staff and other patients in the ICU for days asked me where my face was after that.
Dressing up as a clown did more than cheer up Joanne however, and give me a much needed chance to be goofy. We had originally been getting ready in a bathroom off the ICU, when another American and a woman from the state department needed the room. Jen said of course we could leave and asked for just a minute as Rachel and I needed to collect our clowning make up. The American said ohh my son went to Haiti clowning once to which I poked my head out of the bathroom and asked, “With Patch Adams?”
Turns out her son, Seth is my age and went to college with a bunch of my friends from High School who I know go clowning with Patch Adams and had done the trip to Haiti. My best friend Becca had gone on a trip to Venezuela clowning as well. Margaret had just flown down with Seth from Lilongwe, because the family had gotten into a bad car accident. Seth had just spent a year working in Malawi after college at a hospital in Lilongwe and his family was taking a vacation to visit him at the end of his time. Margaret was very excited to see me clowning and brought me to meet Seth during night visiting hours at the ICU after I spent time with Joanne. She and I met up in the waiting area first where I became friends with other family members of people in the ICU. Seth was pretty out of it, but over the rest of my time there I got to visit them daily and meet his Dad and brother when they finally got a commercial flight down.
I am so pleased Margaret and I could make the connection and I got a chance to know their family. The grace in which she handled everything amazed me and the family’s kindness but knowledge of the world made me feel very at home.
Through Margaret and visiting Seth I also got to more of the ICU and hearing other people’s stories and spending everyday in the ICU is quite an experience. My heart swelled in ways I couldn’t expect. Some days I felt like as much as I wanted to be there for the family’s I was visiting, I had to go run off to catch my breath. Other days I just kept going on autopilot until I was with Joanne, or Emily, or Seth, or Margaret or Jen or Matt- with them I could be fully present. And Joanne would give us a hard time if we weren’t around her much, unless I was visiting Seth, she asked about him everyday and got to meet his family and the day before she left got to go to the ICU to meet him after seeing Emily.
So in silly make-up I got to laugh and cry and meet people that will forever change and be part of my life. The journeys after our three weeks of immediate contact will be long. And as I pray for my new family and friends, know your thoughts and prayers would be appreciated as well.
(There actually weren’t any rainy days and haven’t been for months as it is the dry season.) But we used some face paint from the World Cup and Rachel and I ended up painting our faces to clown in the clown’s hospital room. The nail polish I put on earlier and we are talking brighter than orange highlighter. In fact I woke up frightened a few times.
Jen distracted Joanne as we finished getting ready at the mirror in her room and we had a wonderful time laughing with Joanne when she saw us. And the hospital staff and other patients in the ICU for days asked me where my face was after that.
Dressing up as a clown did more than cheer up Joanne however, and give me a much needed chance to be goofy. We had originally been getting ready in a bathroom off the ICU, when another American and a woman from the state department needed the room. Jen said of course we could leave and asked for just a minute as Rachel and I needed to collect our clowning make up. The American said ohh my son went to Haiti clowning once to which I poked my head out of the bathroom and asked, “With Patch Adams?”
Turns out her son, Seth is my age and went to college with a bunch of my friends from High School who I know go clowning with Patch Adams and had done the trip to Haiti. My best friend Becca had gone on a trip to Venezuela clowning as well. Margaret had just flown down with Seth from Lilongwe, because the family had gotten into a bad car accident. Seth had just spent a year working in Malawi after college at a hospital in Lilongwe and his family was taking a vacation to visit him at the end of his time. Margaret was very excited to see me clowning and brought me to meet Seth during night visiting hours at the ICU after I spent time with Joanne. She and I met up in the waiting area first where I became friends with other family members of people in the ICU. Seth was pretty out of it, but over the rest of my time there I got to visit them daily and meet his Dad and brother when they finally got a commercial flight down.
I am so pleased Margaret and I could make the connection and I got a chance to know their family. The grace in which she handled everything amazed me and the family’s kindness but knowledge of the world made me feel very at home.
Through Margaret and visiting Seth I also got to more of the ICU and hearing other people’s stories and spending everyday in the ICU is quite an experience. My heart swelled in ways I couldn’t expect. Some days I felt like as much as I wanted to be there for the family’s I was visiting, I had to go run off to catch my breath. Other days I just kept going on autopilot until I was with Joanne, or Emily, or Seth, or Margaret or Jen or Matt- with them I could be fully present. And Joanne would give us a hard time if we weren’t around her much, unless I was visiting Seth, she asked about him everyday and got to meet his family and the day before she left got to go to the ICU to meet him after seeing Emily.
So in silly make-up I got to laugh and cry and meet people that will forever change and be part of my life. The journeys after our three weeks of immediate contact will be long. And as I pray for my new family and friends, know your thoughts and prayers would be appreciated as well.
14 July 2010
Three Weeks at Milpark Hospital
I am going to postdate a few blogs that I did not get written in time. This is from mid-July, during the three weeks we spent in a hospital with an American family that became our family.
I guess in my term as a Mission Intern I never know exactly what to expect. When the students graduated from the center our work became a bit up in the air. Final reports were finished and many parties were sorting the next step. The World Cup was finishing and the full range of emotions for transition was starting to sink in.
And then I found myself rushing to the ICU with Jen and Rachel the Tuesday night after the World Cup Final. (We actually make a very good team in these kind of moments and through the use of everyone’s skills got to the ICU right before visitors hours ended.) That is where we met Emily, who woke up to talk to us. Based on how well put together she was in conversation it took me a little while to find out she was 16. She told us a little about being flown down from Uganda and insisting they not amputate her leg there. We already knew about the bombing at the Ethiopian Restaurant during the World Cup Final in Uganda, and at the viewing area as well.
It wasn’t until the next day when her parents arrived and talking about it, that I felt guilty. Jen, Rachel, and I had gone to a Fan Park to watch the World Cup Final in South Africa. People had told us to be careful and were worried about attacks where all these people were. Truthfully at all the public places we watched games I felt very safe and didn’t think about it. But here this mission trip of people from Pennsylvania had felt called to stay in Uganda an extra week and were just at a restaurant watching the game and they experienced the danger others had warned us about. Now the politics and motives of terrorists is a bit different, but in our ordinary lives how do you comprehend that?
Back to that first night, one of the first things Emily said was three of our friends did die. The main pastor (Peter) in Uganda the church in the US had been linked to for years had died. Joanne, the grandmother (we went to visit next) was a very dear friend with him and the two other young people from that congregation who had been traveling with the team. Later, Emily and her Dad, Matt both pointed out the importance that as they mourned the loss of three friends, three came to be there with them. It was a powerful statement for me to hear and the reference to angels, but one I never fully comprehended. The truth is Emily and her family also came to us at a time we needed them.
Joanne, our grandmother is a delight. She had already been on the trip to Uganda and when her granddaughter wanted to go they both became part of the 2010 team to travel to Uganda. Six decided to stay a week later. I haven’t meant all the members of the team but they have all been in my prayers and from Joanne and Emily’s stories I feel like I know them.
On day two as I said we meet Jen and Matt. Matt is Joanne’s son, and Emily is Matt and Jen’s daughter. Matt’s sense of humor made us click immediately and Jen was soon to follow. And soon we were immediate family members (the American accents made this clear to the hospital staff). For Emily I could relate easily, and then remembered the summer I was 16 living in Mexico and at the age would have loved to go to Uganda. Would still jump on the chance to go… But being a little older now I also found it really easy to relate to Matt and Jen, and try to be supportive while they had to make tough decisions and the even tougher position of waiting. And then my love for grandparents and older people developed a great relationship with Gran. The first week when Gran got out of the ICU we spent a lot of time with her so Matt and Jen could focus on Emily.
And at the end of the three weeks for everything to come full circle, my parents got to meet Emily the day they arrived before we left on our long planned vacation and her first day taking a short trip outside of the ICU. And before she got to go home with her parents to receive care at John Hopkins. Where she is doing very well and I just got a call that she is moving into rehab and a photo of her outside in the wheelchair.
I guess in my term as a Mission Intern I never know exactly what to expect. When the students graduated from the center our work became a bit up in the air. Final reports were finished and many parties were sorting the next step. The World Cup was finishing and the full range of emotions for transition was starting to sink in.
And then I found myself rushing to the ICU with Jen and Rachel the Tuesday night after the World Cup Final. (We actually make a very good team in these kind of moments and through the use of everyone’s skills got to the ICU right before visitors hours ended.) That is where we met Emily, who woke up to talk to us. Based on how well put together she was in conversation it took me a little while to find out she was 16. She told us a little about being flown down from Uganda and insisting they not amputate her leg there. We already knew about the bombing at the Ethiopian Restaurant during the World Cup Final in Uganda, and at the viewing area as well.
It wasn’t until the next day when her parents arrived and talking about it, that I felt guilty. Jen, Rachel, and I had gone to a Fan Park to watch the World Cup Final in South Africa. People had told us to be careful and were worried about attacks where all these people were. Truthfully at all the public places we watched games I felt very safe and didn’t think about it. But here this mission trip of people from Pennsylvania had felt called to stay in Uganda an extra week and were just at a restaurant watching the game and they experienced the danger others had warned us about. Now the politics and motives of terrorists is a bit different, but in our ordinary lives how do you comprehend that?
Back to that first night, one of the first things Emily said was three of our friends did die. The main pastor (Peter) in Uganda the church in the US had been linked to for years had died. Joanne, the grandmother (we went to visit next) was a very dear friend with him and the two other young people from that congregation who had been traveling with the team. Later, Emily and her Dad, Matt both pointed out the importance that as they mourned the loss of three friends, three came to be there with them. It was a powerful statement for me to hear and the reference to angels, but one I never fully comprehended. The truth is Emily and her family also came to us at a time we needed them.
Joanne, our grandmother is a delight. She had already been on the trip to Uganda and when her granddaughter wanted to go they both became part of the 2010 team to travel to Uganda. Six decided to stay a week later. I haven’t meant all the members of the team but they have all been in my prayers and from Joanne and Emily’s stories I feel like I know them.
On day two as I said we meet Jen and Matt. Matt is Joanne’s son, and Emily is Matt and Jen’s daughter. Matt’s sense of humor made us click immediately and Jen was soon to follow. And soon we were immediate family members (the American accents made this clear to the hospital staff). For Emily I could relate easily, and then remembered the summer I was 16 living in Mexico and at the age would have loved to go to Uganda. Would still jump on the chance to go… But being a little older now I also found it really easy to relate to Matt and Jen, and try to be supportive while they had to make tough decisions and the even tougher position of waiting. And then my love for grandparents and older people developed a great relationship with Gran. The first week when Gran got out of the ICU we spent a lot of time with her so Matt and Jen could focus on Emily.
And at the end of the three weeks for everything to come full circle, my parents got to meet Emily the day they arrived before we left on our long planned vacation and her first day taking a short trip outside of the ICU. And before she got to go home with her parents to receive care at John Hopkins. Where she is doing very well and I just got a call that she is moving into rehab and a photo of her outside in the wheelchair.
11 July 2010
World Cup!
With everything going on I can't believe I haven't blogged about the World Cup. I mean watching the World Cup its self was enough to take away a lot of my time.
But I had the grand opportunity of going to two games while being here. Tonight we are going to a Fan Park to watch the final. And we have watched countless games with friends, all memorable events, its been an exciting competition.
Prince, Mama Judy's 7 year old son, and arguably one of my best friends here has been learning all the flags with his sister Priscilla and a little bit about all the countries. And for everyone else it is a huge part of life as well. Lots of healthy rivalries.
But watching the game is like something else. My ability to follow sports is generally just saved for the finals. If I go to a game or make up my mind to watch it (we are talking any major sport here) I can get into it. But generally other things come first so I am not going to concentrate on a whole game. Well I am a fan of football/soccer anyway because I love how many people play and come together. I love the energy at DC United games, and I'll say it here- but more than Nationals Games.
But the World Cup has captivated me. Some players names I just scream because I love the sound. If you listen to the announcers you pick up when they are so concentrated and make very funny comments. I learned how all these teams plays and knew when something was off. I am telling you I have been captivated by the players, and the good and bad calls, and the attempts and successes that are amazing.
Now actually being at the game is a whole different story. On TV I just want something to happen, I want the excitement to start right up. But being at the game every moment is exciting. Maybe its almost too much stimulus to just focus on the game.
Especially at the Cote d'Ivoire vs Brazil game I felt before anyone scored that anything is possible. It was harder as Brazil continued to score and its truly exciting, but I think I really anjoyed that sense of possiblilty.
Okay roommates are waiting for me to finish so we can go.
Tonight's for Netherlands, which is so crazy to see so much support here with all the Dutch history. So much is possible for change and people and its nice to see how the crazy World Cup can take hold of the nation. (More on my comments and issues with FIFA soon.)
FOR TONIGHT LETS SEE A GREAT GAME! GO NETHERLANDS! ORANGE it is!
Halala,
Hannah
--
Hannah Hanson
Mission Intern - SHADE
South Africa
hannahatshade.blogspot.com
But I had the grand opportunity of going to two games while being here. Tonight we are going to a Fan Park to watch the final. And we have watched countless games with friends, all memorable events, its been an exciting competition.
Prince, Mama Judy's 7 year old son, and arguably one of my best friends here has been learning all the flags with his sister Priscilla and a little bit about all the countries. And for everyone else it is a huge part of life as well. Lots of healthy rivalries.
But watching the game is like something else. My ability to follow sports is generally just saved for the finals. If I go to a game or make up my mind to watch it (we are talking any major sport here) I can get into it. But generally other things come first so I am not going to concentrate on a whole game. Well I am a fan of football/soccer anyway because I love how many people play and come together. I love the energy at DC United games, and I'll say it here- but more than Nationals Games.
But the World Cup has captivated me. Some players names I just scream because I love the sound. If you listen to the announcers you pick up when they are so concentrated and make very funny comments. I learned how all these teams plays and knew when something was off. I am telling you I have been captivated by the players, and the good and bad calls, and the attempts and successes that are amazing.
Now actually being at the game is a whole different story. On TV I just want something to happen, I want the excitement to start right up. But being at the game every moment is exciting. Maybe its almost too much stimulus to just focus on the game.
Especially at the Cote d'Ivoire vs Brazil game I felt before anyone scored that anything is possible. It was harder as Brazil continued to score and its truly exciting, but I think I really anjoyed that sense of possiblilty.
Okay roommates are waiting for me to finish so we can go.
Tonight's for Netherlands, which is so crazy to see so much support here with all the Dutch history. So much is possible for change and people and its nice to see how the crazy World Cup can take hold of the nation. (More on my comments and issues with FIFA soon.)
FOR TONIGHT LETS SEE A GREAT GAME! GO NETHERLANDS! ORANGE it is!
Halala,
Hannah
--
Hannah Hanson
Mission Intern - SHADE
South Africa
hannahatshade.blogspot.com
01 July 2010
Winter
A few weeks ago I was at the centre. It had been almost a week since I had last been there, and in a weeks time winter had come. Being a ‘farmer’ now, winter holds a much different meaning that hit for the first time looking out over the field. The week before we had beautiful heads of lettuce coming up everywhere ready for sale and the bean leaves were still bright green.
So to my slight shock (I knew the frost was coming, just wasn’t ready for all its affects) most of the plants were burnt with frost or damaged by animals eating them. It wasn’t exactly depression, but the reality of seeing all this; the reality of accepting winter had struck.
I had hoped to sell a little more lettuce especially as our finances for the department were still struggling trying to provide for the chickens. Then I found out the students were preparing to kill and clean all of the chickens they had raised.
I know it is part of life, but I am used to killing a few at a time for people at the centre to eat. This in comparison seemed like slaughter. The intent was to stop paying for feed for old enough broilers and clean and prepare them while we had time. Then all the chickens were frozen and used to feed the students and staff for the rest of the training course.
In some ways it was full circle for the students that had raised the chickens and some took it as part of life. Akim was coming out of the chicken shed with two at a time to speed the process, and can kill one, while holding the other. I have been saying for a while if I am willing to eat meat I need to be willing to kill it, so in the emotional rush and knowing this was my last chance- I took the knife. Akim knows just the right angle to do it quickly- but I got mad as the knife was dull and was not going to torture one of the chickens as a learning tool. So I did it together with Akim to ensure it was quick.
I was glad the students were accepting of the process, but it was very hard for me to see our remaining chickens go in one afternoon. No more pecking at feet and flying where they shouldn’t. I had made very sure the student understood it was their responsibility to raise the broilers, which would make me think I would be another step removed. In fact I think it was harder to watch over the students and the chickens.
And so in the midst of all of this, the ducks and village chickens were out looking for what fresh greens were out they could still eat. If I haven’t mentioned, I enjoy the ducks immensely. They are just very funny.
One of the big ducks was giving one of the village chickens a hard time and then I noticed she had three chicks with her. My heart skipped a beat. The chickens we raise for meat or eggs don’t get to grow up with their mother- but here as winter was setting in was a little family with three three-day-old chicks. I waved for my friends to come see, not wanting to disturb the young family with the little black and gray chicks. And as I followed them at a distance they headed for the garden.
The garden still had sunflower in bloom and the late afternoon sun was hitting the petals. So in a setting of the last sunflowers at Espoir, I watched the chicks and their protective mother. (I worry about them being so young in the winter, but it is not up to me to protect them, it is their mother’s job and I must stand back and accept nature.) And it was beautiful and I knew I couldn’t curse the winter for my own unprepardiness. The winter has to come each year.
And as I write a few weeks late the last of the students are packing up to leave after graduation and it adds to the winter. But they are going to spread what they learned to their own communities. It has to be winter here so they can spread what they know for spring in their communities.
It’s a winter like none I have ever had before, and it is painful- but it holds a beauty of its own.
Thoughtfully,
Hannah
So to my slight shock (I knew the frost was coming, just wasn’t ready for all its affects) most of the plants were burnt with frost or damaged by animals eating them. It wasn’t exactly depression, but the reality of seeing all this; the reality of accepting winter had struck.
I had hoped to sell a little more lettuce especially as our finances for the department were still struggling trying to provide for the chickens. Then I found out the students were preparing to kill and clean all of the chickens they had raised.
I know it is part of life, but I am used to killing a few at a time for people at the centre to eat. This in comparison seemed like slaughter. The intent was to stop paying for feed for old enough broilers and clean and prepare them while we had time. Then all the chickens were frozen and used to feed the students and staff for the rest of the training course.
In some ways it was full circle for the students that had raised the chickens and some took it as part of life. Akim was coming out of the chicken shed with two at a time to speed the process, and can kill one, while holding the other. I have been saying for a while if I am willing to eat meat I need to be willing to kill it, so in the emotional rush and knowing this was my last chance- I took the knife. Akim knows just the right angle to do it quickly- but I got mad as the knife was dull and was not going to torture one of the chickens as a learning tool. So I did it together with Akim to ensure it was quick.
I was glad the students were accepting of the process, but it was very hard for me to see our remaining chickens go in one afternoon. No more pecking at feet and flying where they shouldn’t. I had made very sure the student understood it was their responsibility to raise the broilers, which would make me think I would be another step removed. In fact I think it was harder to watch over the students and the chickens.
And so in the midst of all of this, the ducks and village chickens were out looking for what fresh greens were out they could still eat. If I haven’t mentioned, I enjoy the ducks immensely. They are just very funny.
One of the big ducks was giving one of the village chickens a hard time and then I noticed she had three chicks with her. My heart skipped a beat. The chickens we raise for meat or eggs don’t get to grow up with their mother- but here as winter was setting in was a little family with three three-day-old chicks. I waved for my friends to come see, not wanting to disturb the young family with the little black and gray chicks. And as I followed them at a distance they headed for the garden.
The garden still had sunflower in bloom and the late afternoon sun was hitting the petals. So in a setting of the last sunflowers at Espoir, I watched the chicks and their protective mother. (I worry about them being so young in the winter, but it is not up to me to protect them, it is their mother’s job and I must stand back and accept nature.) And it was beautiful and I knew I couldn’t curse the winter for my own unprepardiness. The winter has to come each year.
And as I write a few weeks late the last of the students are packing up to leave after graduation and it adds to the winter. But they are going to spread what they learned to their own communities. It has to be winter here so they can spread what they know for spring in their communities.
It’s a winter like none I have ever had before, and it is painful- but it holds a beauty of its own.
Thoughtfully,
Hannah
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