Restarting Palliative Care visits

I've enjoyed all the comments and emails I've received about my poll. Currently it looks like I could be adopting a Liberian child and moving to Alaska! Now that would be a culture shock for the child since Liberia is near the equator and it is hot, hot, hot 12 months a year! I still have to see how God weighs in on all these ideas. If anyone hears from Him about this, let me know:)

Last Wednesday, my partner, June, and I restarted our palliative care visits. It was great to be out in Monrovia again despite the terrible heat. Even though it has only been two and one half months since we were here, I am feeling a little more hopeful about Liberia and it's future. Last outreach, especially towards the end, I was really feeling disheartened - that the problems here were just too big to overcome. It seemed like most of the Liberians I came into contact with were downhearted. Maybe it was just my attitude. Maybe it was just because I was surrounded by death all the time and that I needed a break. Or maybe it was true. I'm not sure but I feel like there has been a change here.

The government has been working on the roads and there is quite an improvement in some areas - Jamaica Road, Somalia Drive and Tubman Blvd. There are still plenty of potholes but at least there is hope that maybe some day there will be decent roads. And there are now city buses! I'm told they are cheaper than taking a taxi and they have provided additional jobs (including the wife of my translator).

There are people (mostly women it seems) cleaning up the streets that are littered with trash. There are hundreds of women out and about with brooms sweeping the streets. I'm told they are being paid and I hope they are earning a living wage - I'll have to ask. New houses are being built at least in the couple of neighborhoods I visited. The stick frames are going up and there were lots of clay bricks to be seen which are used for walls.

On the other hand, crime has slowly been increasing month by month and the UN is decreasing troop size. It continues to feel like there is an uneasy peace. I believe there is still a lot of corruption although I haven't experienced it first hand as some on the ship have.

We had five patients remaining from the last outreach and we decided to visit them before we started getting new patients next week. First we started with Sah, the 54 year old man with throat cancer. He had a tracheotomy and was unable to speak but I loved our visits with him. When we arrived, Sah's brother in law, Joseph was there. When I asked about Sah, he said 'please come sit here.' He went into the house and brought out Kumba, Sah's wife and then told us that Sah had passed away on Feb. 3, the day before we returned to Liberia.

Kumba told us that Sah's last three weeks were not good - he was unable to eat or drink and was in pain since he was no longer able to take the pain medication we had provided. I'm thankful his suffering is over and that his wife was able to care for him in his last days. We looked at photos and reminisced about our visits. He leaves behind 3 little girls (ages 13, 6 and 4) plus several older children.

We also went to visit Martha. She was a 50ish women with some type of cancer that was eating away her face. When we arrived, we were told by her brother in law Prince that she had passed away on Jan. 9. She had gone upcountry to her parents village to seek treatment from a medicine man but she died while there. As we sat inside the house talking to Prince, I could still smell her sickness - it's like it had permeated the walls of the house. It's not a smell I will soon forget.

We also visited Levi, Survivor and Mark, all of whom are still surviving. Each has a story that will take some time to tell so I will leave that for my next blog.

We have our big medical screening on Monday at the large football (soccer) stadium. We have advertised throughout the country and hope that only the people with the type of sicknesses we can treat will come. We don't know what to expect, possibly between 1000-2000 people but that is really a guess. I will be working at the prayer station - this is where people come after they are told that we cannot help them. And out of these people, I expect some will have terminal illnesses which is where I will get my palliative care patients. So I'm praying for none but will probably get a few.

Tomorrow I'll talk more about how screening will go. We have been warned that we will possibly see thousands of people lined up, all of whom have a great need and we could potentially be turning away a lot of those. When we advertised, we indicated the types of sickness we could help with but people with other types of sicknesses will come just to see if we can help. While we will be saying yes to many, many people, we will be saying no to a lot as well. It will be an emotionally draining day - one I am looking forward to because of the number of people I will get to pray for and tell of God's love for them and one I wish I never had to experience in my life. How can my heart not be forever broken by the magnitude of the suffering I am going to see all in one place?

Today, I believe that God's grace is sufficient. I'm not sure if I will believe the same thing after Monday.

Peace,
Michele