Ghana - Day 12

Ghana – Day 12

There is never a dull day in Africa!  Today is no exception.  I woke this morning wondering what we would do to occupy some of the day since the kids were going to be back in school.  We ended the day late into the night after a trip to the hospital.

We started the day early headed for the home.  We wanted to be there early enough to spend some time with the kids before school started.  When we arrived at the home, however we realized they weren’t really starting school.  Yes, their teacher was there, and yes, the classroom was open, but that didn’t mean they were getting instruction.  Apparently, this first day was spent getting the classroom ready for tomorrow.  They cleaned the classroom and placed their new supplies for starting tomorrow.  We stayed in the courtyard and played with the children who decided cleaning the classroom wasn’t for them.

We stayed at the home until just after noon to allow the children to eat.  They’d been asking to go to the hotel again so once they were finished with lunch we loaded up and headed to the hotel.  Before we left Monica approached me with her oldest daughter.  E had slipped and fallen and her wrist was badly swollen and she was in a lot of pain.  I’m no doctor, but I’ve seen a lot of injuries!!  I looked it over as best as I could and told her I thought it was just a bad sprain.  I told her we should wrap it, put some ice on it and give her some pain medicine.  If it continued to be swollen and hurt for the next couple days then we should take her in.  One of the children fetched an Ace wrap and I gently wrapped E’s arm.  Someone else fond some fabric and we tied her a makeshift sling to take pressure off the wrist.  I was pleased my first aid training had finally come into play!

Once at the hotel we turned on the A/C and just relaxed.  The kids, of course wanted to take a bath.  Brandie was still not feeling 100% so I let her rest while I rolled up my sleeves and dove in to bath the flopping water monsters!  These two are so funny in the water.  They love being in the tub and love feeling the warm water pour over their little bodies.  It was like a small assembly line – I’d scrub one’s hair and rinse, then do the next.  I’d stand one naked little body up and scrub it clean, then the next would promptly stand up.  It was quite funny.

After baths we played on the iPad, looked at photos on the computer, read books, colored, and watched WWE wrestling (the only thing on the TV that would come into reception).  Sadly enough, I couldn’t help but wonder when the next little blow up would happen this day to ruin the fun we were having.

The kids once again wanted to talk with Grandma.  I dialed her number and when she answered M was closest to the phone so I gave her the phone to talk first.  Apparently, A had it set in his mind that he wanted to talk first so he went into silent mode – and I figured this was the episode which would define the rest of the afternoon.  M talked with Grandma for several minutes while A went over onto his bed and looked at some other books.  I asked him a couple times if he’d like to talk and he just ignored me.  Brandie commented to me that you could see by the look in his eyes we were just one the edge of having a complete ‘come apart’ like we’d had a couple other times over the last few weeks.

This time was different than the other times however.  I knelt at the edge of his bed and started talking with him.  I talked about his feelings:  Are you mad? He shook his head (this was good progress – typically, he’d just move or continue to stare at the ground).  Are you sad – do you feel like you need a hug?  Again, the head shook.  Are you upset because you wanted to talk with Grandma first?  Slowly the head nodded.  HA, HA!!  I was excited – this was genuine progress!  He wasn’t completely shutting down and he trusted enough to let us know what he was feeling before just completely shutting down.  I sat on the edge of the bed and talked with him more.  I let him know it was ok to feel that way, but it didn’t mean mommy, daddy, or grandma loved him any less than M – and that next time he’d get the chance to talk first.  By this time G’ma was off the phone so he didn’t get to talk with her, but I told him next time he would get to.

After our talk, A snapped out of his pouting session and came back to the funny, silly little boy we’ve come to love.  I was so pleased and felt like we’d made some genuine progress over the last week and a half we’ve been here.  The level of trust with both of the children has grown each day.  Today was the very first day since we’ve been here that was different than all other days.  Today, for the first time, we felt like a real family.  What I mean is – Brandie and I didn’t feel like we were walking on eggshells or having to try and play psychologist all day.  We were just us and the kids were just themselves.  If they did something out of line, we told them without fear of emotional repercussion and they responded very well.  I was so pleased with both of them today.  It truly was a great day!

As a result of their good behavior I felt like we could try and go out to eat together again.  We, of course didn’t tell the kids we were going out to eat was in any way tied to the way they behaved today.  This isn’t a good course of action for these children who’ve felt real hunger.  Their behavior should never be tied to whether or not their bellies get filled.  The point I’m making is that because we didn’t have a melt down today I felt confident enough that we could go out and eat without fear of an emotional explosion while out.  I was continually pleased that both children continued at the restaurant exactly the same as they had during the afternoon in the hotel.  Neither of them played the “Daddy, I want” game and both were happy when I told them we weren’t ordering them any ‘sugared’ drinks (such as soda).  It was a very pleasant meal.

Since we still haven’t been to court yet we still are not allowed to leave the home or the hotel without a representative from the home.  This representative usually comes in the form of one of the older boys.  This is completely for our protection – in case someone feels like we’re trying to hijack the kids.  When we arrived back at the home prior to eating almost all of the bigger boys were out.  The three we’d become comfortable with (Richard, Dominic, and Job) were all out doing something.  Ester and Jamaima were both out as well.  I went upstairs and saw that Richmond, a very good boy but one of the more quite ones of the group was there.  I asked if he’d like to join us and he willingly agreed.  When we arrived at the restaurant and ordered our drinks to our pleasant surprise Ester and Jamaima walked in.  We asked them to join us to which they gladly accepted.

In Ghana, there’s an unwritten rule that if you’re out to dinner with an American the American is expected to pay.  Typically, I love picking up the meal tab for these older children.  It’s truly a privilege and I feel that God has blessed our family with so much it is really the least I can do to help here.  This time however, I was running short on Cedi money and was worried I wouldn’t have enough to cover the meal plus the cab ride back to the home and then to the hotel.  Luckily, the meal was less than I was expecting and I was left with 20 Cedi after we were all finished – just enough to get us all home and back to the hotel.

As we arrived back at the home just after dark we assembled in the usual gathering place just under the mango tree.  We were joined by another American couple who’d just arrived a couple of days before to meet their son and to try and attend court.  They expressed to us how frustrated they were that their court date might get pushed back because they were having a tough time getting the signatures they needed from the social welfare officials.  We all laughed and told them their complaints were well understood.  As we talked big Richard came walking through the courtyard our way.

As Richard approached I could immediately tell he wasn’t the same.  I asked how he was doing and he said he was fine.  He was returning from being gone for a couple of days visiting some family.  He talked softly and I could tell in his face that something was wrong.  I boldly said, “Richard, I can see something is troubling you, what is it?”  He responded that his stomach was hurting him and had been bothering him for a few days.  I asked him several questions trying to determine the type of pain he was having.  After several questions he confided that he’d had blood in his last bowel movement – that was last straw for me.  I quickly stood up and told him we should take him to the clinic.  He hesitated because Pastor John wasn’t home at the time.  I told him I would call Pastor John but we needed to leave.  I knew Richard was concerned about the hospital bill and checking in with John, but I knew John would be more concerned with making sure this young man was properly cared for.

Richard and I went to the main road and caught a cab.  Our ride to the hospital was short enough but all the while my mind raced with questions:  does Ghana have socialized medicine?  What are typical medical costs and who pays for them?  What would we expect at the hospital at 7:45 at night?  Would we see things in the waiting room I’d rather not see?  Was Richard going to be assessed by someone who really knew what he or she was doing?  All of these questions were relevant in my mind since my only frame of reference was the experiences I’d had while on my mission to Argentina 20 years ago.  The hospitals there were atrocious and always seemed to have an odor of death in them. 

As we arrived at the hospital and walked into the main reception area I was pleasantly surprised – it was better than what I’d experienced in S. America, although not a ton.  There was no smell and the walls and floor were clean.  We were checked in at the main desk, given a folder, and ushered into a triage room where a young nurse in a white nurse uniform promptly gathered the folder from Richard and started taking his vitals while asking him questions.  After 15 minutes of her questioning and making notes she referred us to a room across the hallway. 

We walked across the hall into an office/exam room.  There was a nicely dressed man behind the desk and I assumed this man was the doctor.  True to Ghanaian form he was extremely polite and pleasant.  He asked me to sit and asked Richard to lie on the exam table.  He performed the same type of exam I would have seen from an American doctor and asked many diagnosing questions.  He was gentle and seemed genuinely concerned for his patient.  My initial assumptions of African hospitals was being altered as the minutes passed. 

The doctor talked to me and said they’d like to run some labs, put Richard on an IV with some fluids to make sure he isn’t dehydrated, and give him some pain meds to take the edge off the pain he was having.  All of that sounded agreeable to me.  He handed me a slip of paper with the prescriptions and pointed me to the pharmacy where I could buy the drugs and IV (this was a little different than home).  There was only one problem….I’d spent the last 15 Cedi I had on me at the front desk when we registered Richard.  I asked the pharmacist what my total for the drugs would be to which he responded 21 Cedi.  Crap!  Now what?

I walked back to the room where Richard was sitting with a grimaced look still on his face.  I told him I’d have to return to the hotel room to get more cash.  He looked at me like a little puppy that was just told to return home.  I then told the nurse that I would be back within 20 minutes and to resume treatment on him.  I left the hospital wondering where in the world I would find a taxi in the ‘off the path’ place.  Just then, a taxi entered the hospital parking lot to drop off a visitor.  I ran to the taxi before he drove off and asked him to drive me quickly.  The roundtrip to the hotel took less than 15 minutes.

At the hotel I scrambled through my money pouch and found 30 Cedi.  I was concerned with the unknown of what else we’d be charged for, but that was all I had.  I decided to grab some additional American money just in case we were in a pinch.  Back at the hospital I bought the drugs and met Richard and his nurse in the Detention Room (a funny name I thought).  The nurse put the IV into Richard’s arm and gave him two injections – one for pain and the other for Malaria.  I asked her if they’d drawn the labs yet.  She said they hadn’t because the lab shut down at 8:00 – it was now 8:20.  I was irritated, but at this point there was nothing I could do.

I called Pastor John to inform him what was happening and where we were.  He told me he’d be right there – I told him there was no need, we’d be another hour or better waiting for the IV.  I told him we’d call once we were ready to leave.  He graciously thanked me, which there was no need.  I love this boy and was happy to be there with him.

I sat on the bed with Richard and made sure he was comfortable.  I patted him on the back and let him know we loved him.  I left my hand on him and gave him a silent blessing asking for the powers of heaven to be called down in this boy’s behalf.  He’s certainly worthy of God’s blessings and has shown sufficient faith.  I knew he would be watched over and blessed.

When the IV was nearly completed I called John for a ride.  He said he’d be right there.  After 15 minutes Brandie, Monica, and Nana (the taxi driver) showed up.  I asked where John was and was told that he’d taken E to the other hospital for x-rays on her wrist.  What a crazy night!!

In the end, E only had a sprained wrist – thank heavens – Richard was home comfortably (we’ll return in the morning to get his labs drawn), and we arrived back at the hotel in one piece – late, but in one piece.

There’s never a dull moment in this country!!

Until tomorrow….