Wherever you are, be all there. -Jim Elliot
As I sit here, I’m so torn about what to write about… In one way, it feels like everything is exactly the same as we continue to press on and work hard. On the other hand, so many new things have happened since I last wrote. Sometimes, though, it is hard to put words to the moments spent giving therapy to severely disabled kids with your favorite short term group from California. It is hard to describe the light in a child’s eyes after receiving several weeks of nutrition. It is hard to describe the gratitude I have toward all the doctors, nurses, and administration I get to work beside in our hospital. While so much of what we do feels like “you just had to be there” type of moments, I hope so much that this gives you just a small glimpse into our every day.
Lately, it’s been a mix of mountaintops and valleys here. I am always so encouraged and filled with hope when our patients finally start to look and feel better… you wouldn’t believe the amount of love and care that is poured into them here from all the hospital staff. However, this month we have lost a few babies and one teenage girl that I had become very connected with. I’ve become better about dealing with the emotional trauma that I experience sometimes daily here, but I guess it’s something that you never just ‘get used to.’ Rather, you learn to process it in a healthy way and disconnect for a little while when it’s necessary. We did just that this past weekend and headed to a Guatemalan beach on the border of Belize to celebrate our 6 year anniversary and catch up on much needed sleep!
One of my recent highlights this month, has been watching the transformation of Doris. I will share her story below, but I want to warn you that her ‘before’ pictures are hard to look at.
As usual, we drove the long almost 3 hour journey into the mountains to reach Doris. (to learn more about how we find these children and the detail that goes into bringing them back, click here.)
We arrived at a small shack nestled into the mountainside, surrounded by a beautiful view of Guatemala’s rolling mountains and coffee plants. The shack had nice sheet metal on the outside, but the problem with that is how easily the metal transferred the heat to the home’s interior. I’m not sure how hot it was, but on that particular day with a temperature of 98 degrees, a ‘feels like’ temperature around 114, and the scorching sun beating down on the area… it was hot. The interior of this home that housed 7 people was beyond simplistic– this family had nothing. They had a wood fire oven, a few articles of clothing strewn about, one chair, 2 cups, an old calendar from 2014, and one makeshift bed made out of a couple of sticks and an old, tattered bamboo mat. On that bed laid Doris, too sore and too weary to even turn her head to see us walking in.
Upon first glance, it was obvious that Doris was suffering from Kwashiorkor’s, a severe type of malnutrition caused by protein deficiency. This type of malnutrition causes severe swelling in the face, abdomen and extremities. When I pressed my finger into her leg to assess the severity of it, her skin sunk in deeply, past the middle part of my finger. For any of my medical friends, her pitting edema was far worse than any CHF patient I had ever seen in the states. Although she was perfectly coherent, she was struggling to talk and move because her entire body was weighed down with all this fluid.
I slowly helped Doris put clothes on so that we could make the trip back. What was most gut wrenching, was watching Doris’ mother in the corner… holding on to her two year old granddaughter that belonged to Doris. I looked down at sweet Doris when I realized that was her daughter, and she looked back at me with lifeless eyes as she tried to bring herself to smile. The Guatemalan women are strong, they are fierce, they are brave. Although Doris was critically ill, when she looked at me that way, I knew in my heart that she was going to make it. Doris, her mom, and her daughter were going to be coming with us, while Doris’ 14 year old sister would be staying behind to take care of her younger siblings as there was no father involved. This young girl had seen abuse at a young age, spent years chronically malnourished, and was now more ill than I’ll probably ever be, but she still managed to show her strength in these difficult moments.
Sometimes when I write these posts, I wish I had taken more pictures… but when you are in the moment, helping carry a 16 year old that is too swollen to walk, and listening to her story on the ride back… those are the moments that I not only want to ‘be all there’ but that it is necessary for me to ‘be all there‘ for these kids. When we had returned from our weekend away and I walked back into the hospital, I couldn’t even recognize Doris. Not only had she lost a lot of the fluid from furosemide treatments, she was up walking around and smiling! Her eyes lit up when she saw me, my eyes burst into tears when I realized it was her. (and maybe just burst into tears a second time as I wrote that and remembered that moment.)
Although Doris is still receiving treatments and is not ready to go home quite yet, it’s remarkable the transformation that has happened in just two weeks. Doris and her mom attended a small Bible Study I had for the mamas this week, and it’s so encouraging to watch them learn and grow in their faith. It’s truly a miracle she’s still alive.
What I love so much about what I do and experience here is that stories of healing and hope just like this are always happening here at Hope of Life. Malnutrition, poverty, and desperation run rampant in this area of Guatemala… but as we continue to GO and SEEK those who need help, Hope of Life is changing the future of Guatemala… one life at a time. <3
You are loved.
-Whitney
