Thursday Thoughts and Things---- Pictures and Descriptions by Jon Hofer

   "I fell." That pretty much sums it up. And that is why when I come in with a bloody shirt, and a mangled up head, I don't really care how it happened, I just want that cut shut up.
   But unluckily, the nurses look at it different. They begin plaguing me with questions like, "When did this happen? How did you fall? How old are you? When did you eat last? And on and on....
   If my head hadn't already been hurting, I am sure it will start to now, because of these questions.
   So, sparing you all the important details, we will give you a little summary of a Thursday afternoon when Katie is on call and Rhoda stops in to visit her.

Rhoda stitching away. Your learning how to sew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Good for you:)

   We were singing to the Grandma in the hospital room and having a fun time. Her little grand daughter is a joy to the soul, and we were having fun helping her sing her little heart out, when a stretcher appeared at the gate.
     Katie and I found some gloves and let our little friend to her own devices for the next five hours. Then we stared at the man with a gouged up face, and a bloody turban hat who was lying on the stretcher.

Me and Katie hard at work cleaning wounds.

     The man that came in did not seem quite normal. He hardly spoke, and seemed to have a hard time understanding us. His head was covered with a horrible crusty, yellow coating that made it extremely difficult to get anything to a satisfactory point of cleanliness. Thankfully, after awhile, our olfactory nerves stopped working so well, and we were able to get on with the poking and pricking necessary to close up the six or seven more major cuts on his face.
    Fortunately,Nate walked in to help us as we finished the stitching on that man, because meanwhile people were stopping by and wanting to get meds or have Mis Katie take a look at them.
     And then, another man seated himself outside. He had a nice long gash across the dead center of his head, and a blood soaked shirt and face. Here comes stitch job number two.The gashes were not as dirty this time, and the man did a very good job of holding his head still.
     In a couple of hours, we had the twenty-one stitches in place, and were wiping down the exam table.
     Then it was time to say good-night to the Grandma, who has been in our hospital for a week. Her stomach keeps filling up with fluid, and it is hard to see her suffering so much. She really enjoys when we sing or pray with her. Her daughters and other family do a very nice job of cleaning up after her and making the hospital a pleasant place for her to be.

This is our sweet christian lady, with her daughter and grand child! There are only 3 options for this lady, and all will end up the same way. She will die soon, it's so sad that there is really no help in all of Haiti for her, not even help to make her comfortable to the end. We need a doctor to come basically every two days to drain the fluid of her stomach and that is basically impossible to do. She is alive in Jesus and her daughter is very kind and helpful. That is the joyful part, the fact that she is ready to meet her Maker.

This little girl has been such a blessing. It's such a stark difference between a God fearing person and one who doesn't know anything but the horrible lashes of the devil.

     So,we went home, and ate mashed potatoes. After a few hours of letting them digest, we heard a knock on the gate. This time it was Anita and Whitney who breezed down to the clinic to check things out. After a few hours with that lady, they got to pose with a brand new baby girl, and welcome the week-end in with a positive note.

Whitney and Anita with the baby.

      Just a quick note before I publish this post. As we were starting supper Friday night, there was a knock on the gate, Nathan went to see what's going on, "cheers", just what we were looking forward to, another lady in labor. So Rhoda and Katie (Team B) quickly ate and went down to clinic. The baby was born around 12:30!!!!!!!          Jon