Ghana – Day 13
This morning I needed to get Richard back to the hospital for his lab work. I figured it would be a fairly similar situation to last night and planned on being there only a couple of hours. Brandie was still not feeling well – in fact, she’d had a lousy night last night and hardly got any sleep. Her body has been trying to mend for so many days I thought it would be good for her to rest for the morning.
Monica and I caught a cab and headed over to the home. Before we left I made sure I had plenty of cash so that I didn’t end up in the same situation as last night. When we arrived at the home Richard came down. We walked to the busy corner and caught a taxi and made our way back to the hospital.
We walked into the hospital expecting a few people as the night before. Imagine my amazement when the place was packed with people. I knew we’d better prepare for a longer morning than we were anticipating. We went back to the lab and I handed the lab tech the order sheet. He wrote down the cost for his services and sent me to the hospital cashier to pay the 15 Cedi. I came back into the lab room and watched as they drew blood from Richard. This was his first experience with needles and drawing blood (last night was the first time he’d ever been pricked with a needle). His face clearly showed his distain for the needles and winced hard when the lab tech pricked his right arm. Once he was finished drawing the blood he asked us to take a seat in the waiting room with the other 20 some-odd people sitting out there and when the results were done they’d call for us.
After about 30 minutes the tech came out with Richard’s results. We were now supposed to take them over to what they called the OPD Room and see the head nurse. As we walked into that room we found around 35 people all sitting quietly on benches waiting their turn. I wasn’t waiting that long so I just walked up to the nurse and played the dumb foreigner that I am. I asked her what we needed to do with this form. She handed me Richard’s chart, put the form inside, and then told me to wait with the others to see the doctor. On the other side of the hallway from the OPD room were two Consultation Rooms where a doctor sat in each. Patients would walk in with their charts and within 10 or 15 minutes would exit with their prescription and diagnosis. It was the ultimate healthcare production line.
As we sat in the OPD Room waiting our ‘turn’ I noticed that several people would walk up to the consultation door and loiter in the hallway until the current patient would walk out and then immediately push their way into the room – cutting everyone else out. I didn’t like this, not one bit, but I’d remember reading that in Ghana their idea of ‘taking turns’ and lines are quite different than what we’re used to. That’s when I stood up and walked to the door. As I stood there another lady walked up and stood in front of me. Immediately my temperature rose and I said to myself, “Oh no you don’t!” When the door opened I stuck my right arm on the wall in front of her creating a wall and whistled at Richard – in we went!
Once inside we were seen by two female physicians. The one behind the desk was slightly older than the other. I got the feeling the younger one was an intern or there shadowing the older one. The older doctor was visibly exhausted and I lightened the mood by kidding with her about it. She looked Richard’s chart over, gave him a very brief inspection and wrote a list of prescriptions. That was it! No way was I going to let her off the hook that easy. I started asking questions – so what do you think is going on? What can he expect over the next couple days? Will the pain subside? Does the blood in his stool not concern you – “What” she fired back? “Yeah”, I said – that’s there in the chart. She got a sheepish look on her face and took another few minutes looking over the chart. She then asked him a series of other questions in their “Boogidy, boo” language and then started scratching a new prescription card out. She mentioned that two of the drugs were injections and the other three were oral. As soon as she said ‘injection’ Richard’s poor face started contorting. The doctor clearly noticed and asked him, “What, you don’t like injections?” Like any of us get up in the morning excited to stick a piece of metal in our body! They chided with him a little then sent us off to the pharmacy. Another 18 Cedi and back to the nurse’s station.
This time I wasn’t taking any guff. I walked right up to the nurse, handed her the drugs, and said, “I need you to come give this boy his injections please.” She looked up, stood up, and asked us to follow her. Once in a private room she gave Richard his shots – he wasn’t a happy camper and was in legitimate pain. I had to remind him several times to not baby the injection spots since the muscles would tighten and cause more pain later. It was tender enough that when we got into the taxi to head back home he wouldn’t sit down. Instead he knelt backwards on the backseat of the cab – all the way home. I giggled at him – he just smiled at me. Such a good kid.
When we arrived at the home and walked into the courtyard there was a mass group of kids surrounding tightly around something or someone. As some of the kids looked our way I could see a lock of red hair poking through the crowd and knew exactly what was causing all of the attention. Mommy Emily – the beloved Southern Belle who’d spent three months with the kids earlier in the year – had returned to a grand reception of 40+ kids nearly tackling her to the ground and wanting to all love one her simultaneously. We walked over to the group and Emily saw Richard and I approach. Emily and I have had several conversations but this was the first time we’d met in person. She was just as pleasant in real life as she’d been online. We hugged like old friends and sat with the kids to visit. It was so nice to finally put a name to a face and thank her personally for everything she’d done for all the children there. She’s someone I admire and appreciate.
About that time Job called and asked me to go to the market with him and Monica. I met them at the First Junction and caught a cab for Accra. Monica had a couple of items to buy and I looked for items for my kids at home. I found a beautiful dress for Brinley but couldn’t decide on any one thing for the boys. We’ll have to return later for them.
On the ride home the taxi driver was very talkative and entertaining. He asked me how I liked Ghana. I told him I loved everything about it. I told him what foods I’d tried and liked, where we’d been, what we’d done, and everything we’d been through. He laughed and said, “You are now nearly Ghanaian…we should give you a Ghanaian name!” With that he blurted out, Conjo. He and Job giggled and started in – yeah, Conjo – hey, Conjo…. I’m not exactly sure what it means, but apparently they got a kick out of it. So there you have it…my official Ghanaian name is now Conjo. Please refer to me that from now on!! =-)
We decided to take the children out to eat with a group of people. It was a great occasion to eat and visit with Job, Pastor John, Emily, Kitt, and Monica with her kids. A great big table was set for us and we sat on the ocean front setting while the sun went down. It was truly a little paradise we all needed.
We arrived back at the hotel late and visited with Monica for a few minutes before we said good night and locked the doors. I came in and turned on the computer to check email and Facebook – our only lines of communication with the real world. As I checked my email I saw an email from a couple of dear friends who said they’d been following the blog and photos of the children on Facebook and had decided to make an anonymous donation of $1,500 to the children’s home. They’d sent the money to me and I should go pick it up tomorrow. They didn’t want recognition – only that God had touched these men’s heart and they loved those children. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about what this money would mean to all of the children in this area – not only John’s home but the other three that we’d visited in the immediate area. I thanked Father then and there for people like these people and asked that they be blessed 10 fold. Blessing orphans is one of the direct quotes given by the Savior and I can’t think of any worthier cause.
As I put up the computer and settled in to bed there was a gentle knock on the door. I walked to the door and heard Monica on the other side. I opened the door and asked if everything was ok. She informed me that her room had been robbed. She said the door was only partially locked, her iPhone, camera charger, a towel and half a bottle of hair conditioner had been stolen. The thieves had rifled through her luggage and only took those four items. She informed the desk what had happened but she was obviously nervous about sleeping in a room that had been compromised. We gladly invited our new life-long friend into our room. We went down, gathered her things, brought them down to our room and settled her in. Luckily, we had a twin bead brought in for the kids earlier in the week – little did we know we wouldn’t be using it for them.
There was nothing anyone could do about it tonight so we all visited for a few minutes, but we were all so exhausted from the long day that we slowly faded off.
Other than the robbery today was another great day. The thought of leaving in a couple of days is bitter sweet. I really want to go home and be with my kids there…but I really struggle with the thought of leaving Brandie and all of my new good friends here. It’s one of the most bizarre feelings I’ve ever had – and I’m not sure how to reconcile it. I suppose I’ll just play it out and see how things go.
What I do know is that God knows the needs of all his children. He answers the prayers of His children through other children as often as He’s able to – and if we’re lucky enough to be blessed with the opportunity to be used as a tool in His hands – there is no better joy in the world. I’ve had several such opportunities over the last two weeks and I’ve created experiences, feelings and memories that I’ll never forget. We really do live in a blessed time – I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.
Until tomorrow….
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