Hard & Holy

I stepped outside for a few minutes today to remove my face mask. The heat index reached 110 inside the hospital, and every time I exhaled I felt like I was suffocating myself with my own hot air… meant to protect me, I felt like I was going to die if I had to breathe beneath my N95 for one more minute.

We’re weary. All of us. And we’re scared– but not in the way that we are timid creatures living in fear, but we are scared because we know the urgency and the weight of this situation and that when the time comes it will be US running fearlessly to the frontlines. Every single healthcare provider across the world is burdened, worried, and carrying the heavy responsibility to help others the best we can while doing no harm… even if it means that we are put in harm’s way.

Watching the medical system become overburdened in the United States is scary for those of us down here. I cannot count how many times I have had to resuscitate a child for an additional 30 minutes because all of the vents were “ocupado” at the first hospital we stopped at. Hearing just how loud silence can be as you intubate a baby– you see them screaming, but they don’t make a sound. What is overwhelming and devastating in the states could become catastrophic here in Guatemala where resources are less than limited.

The hard decision was made to temporarily “bar the doors” here at Hope of Life– nobody is allowed in, and nobody is allowed out. While I miss the luxury of being able to buy my own groceries or even pick up fast food on the weekend, I am willing to be part of the team doing what it takes to keep our vulnerable little babies safe… and behind the scenes, hard working Guatemalans have worked 15 consecutive difficult days to keep things running here. All masked. All gowned. All suffocating under their masks just like me.

I think the most difficult things about this quarantine, is that although we are taking aggressive preventative measures, life is still carrying on.

We are still watching babies like Santos gain enough weight so he can be strong enough for surgery.

At over 10 pounds, he has more than TRIPLED his weight in the past two months. He’s ready for surgery as soon as the travel ban is lifted!

We are still providing physical therapy for babies like Brenda whose bodies are reaping the long term damage from the devastation of severe malnutrition.


Playing with play doh to increase her strength and mobility in her right hand.
I know this picture is graphic, but it is REAL. I am thankful Brenda came to us over a month ago before we had to stop accepting new admissions.

We are still watching miracles unfold before our eyes — just like sweet Franklin. Less than two months ago, he was cyanotic and in severe respiratory distress due to a cardiac condition called PDA. The Lord breathed life into Franklin’s lungs again by sustaining his little body for long enough to be rushed into urgent heart surgery. Now that he has a healthy heart, we anxiously await for him to start gaining weight. It’s going to happen, and it’s going to happen fast!

His smile! His tooth! His ever so little beginners belly! Those PINK nail beds!

And even though so much good is happening within our walls, my heart breaks for the families outside who need help. For the families whose children were starving before the government shutdown. For the parents who made two dollars a day and now make nothing as many jobs have been suspended. For the mama’s who are having to say “it’s not time yet” when their child is asking at 4pm when they can eat their first meal of the day.

We have already received word of one baby dying and many others who need our help. We are just waiting for the travel bans to be lifted, for the quarantine restrictions to be loosened, and for the world to have a better grip on things before we can risk opening the gates back up to allow others in for help.

I am begging you. If you are able to, STAY AT HOME. The sooner we flatten the curve, the sooner this goes away. The sooner this goes away, the sooner we can be out in the mountains again to bring in those who desperately need help. This is the heartbeat behind what I do and why we are here.

If this post stirs your compassion into action, I encourage you to support Hope of Life or one of the missionary families serving here. Closing the gates has also meant cancelling groups that visit here, which is a devastating blow to the ministry’s income. Were you planning to come here and had to cancel? I challenge you to pray about still donating part of your expenses. The gates may be shut, but the work is harder and heavier than ever. And even though God has called us into a season of doing work here that is HARD, it is HOLY as we are watching some truly miraculous things unfold in these children and mama’s.

I know greater things are yet to come. I feel it. I believe it. We’ve all just gotta make it through this season.

You are loved,
Whitney

Measuring Malnutrition

“How sweet!  She looks so healthy with her chubby cheeks!”

Sometimes malnutrition is easy to spot– a three month old clocking in at only 3 pounds, her ribs prominent, her crying only consoled by a bottle of milk that she quickly consumes.

But in other cases, malnutrition can be very difficult to detect to the untrained eye.  Clothed and standing on a scale, a child can sometimes meet all the criteria to be deemed ‘healthy’, but through skillful assessment and observation, you can gain a more accurate picture of what is going on ‘beneath the surface.’  This type of malnutrition is silent and insidious and is claiming the lives of many children here in remote Guatemala.  Hope of Life is fighting daily to reverse the statistics.

So, heads up… NERD ALERT.  This purpose of this blog post is to give a little bit of medical perspective to what we see and treat daily here in Guatemala.  Today, I am only focusing on the two types of acute malnutrition we treat most often here in rural Guatemala– Marasmus and Kwashiorkor.

 

Continue reading Measuring Malnutrition