Friday, February 6, 2015

Somebody is Watching

...Always, always  watching.

When someone takes something that belongs to us - everyone watches with baited breath to see what we will do.  Become angry?  Kill someone?  Give up and go home?

When the naughty little blood pressure patients don't respect the nurses, the other patients eagerly lean forward - what are the white nurses going to do?  Yell?  Scream?  Call them names?

When Saint Luke doesn't do what we ask him to (yet again).

When I ask the Haitian nurse who is on call tomorrow to please give a much-needed shot in the morning, and then ask if she's ok with it and she replies with, "No.  She can come Sunday."

When the young man who I just did a bandage job on tells me that he is going to go cut the girl who had thrown a block at him.

When someone sneaks a phone in and plugs it in to charge in the hospital room...which everyone knows is off limits.

When a latecomer tries to jump to the front of the line.

When someone tells us that she wants to abort her baby.

Sometimes I think that it's our reactions in times like these that tells people the real reason we are here.  Is it what Christ's would be?

W.W.J.D.

Four little letters that we see so often that we seem to forget to seriously ask it in every situation in our lives.  It's become simply something that you see on a person's bracelet or an occasional bumper sticker, and we no longer think about the actual question.

What would Jesus do?

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Thank you all for your prayers.

I know we talk about it in most blogs, but do y'all realize how much we need them?  We are being placed in situations each day that we ourselves are not prepared for.  We don't have the training.  We don't have the experience.  We feel very unqualified for the roles we are here to fill.

We can't do it alone.

Our hands are physically laboring here in Haiti, but it's y'all and your prayer support that enable these hands.

Know that you are much appreciated.

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Clinic is....Clinic.  Nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary going on right now.

We still have the little old grandpa with the bedsore that we are bandaging twice a day.  We are currently trying a novel new treatment suggested by Alyssa, a visiting RN.  We clean it well each morning and evening, then cram as much sugar into it as we can.  We snicker to ourselves about how this must be "sweetening him up."  But, amazingly, the sugar seems to be absorbing the excessive amount of fluid that used to fill his ulcer, and we are beginning to see pink and healthy looking flesh again.

A woman came in this afternoon who had had a C-section in Grand Graove a month ago - and she still had her stitches in.  The skin had already started to grow over some of them, so we had to use a scalpel to get them out, which caused the poor dear no small amount of pain.  We were both saying "Merci Jezi" when I pulled the last one out; I hate having to hurt sweet people.  Not that I enjoy hurting un-sweet people - I don't. :o)

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Well, I had forgotten that I was supposed to blog today until we almost ready for supper, so I'm afraid that this is a post that feels rather unfinished to me.  And I have no pictures for you.  I'm sorry.  I will try to do better next time, honest. :o)

God bless each on of y'all in your respective corners of the world.

-Kindra

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