Saturday 29/5
I was invited to the village of Barr Abollet, near Lira Town. It is about a two hour drive with the potholes on Lira Road, but the experience was worth it. One of the nurses, who asked not to be named, asked me to come to the home of her family so I could bless them. While I did pronounce a blessing over her mother, father, and family, I think I was the one blessed most by the exchange. This family welcomed me like royalty. Bringing a cushioned chair outside from their home, they placed it under a mango tree and had me sit while every family member came by for an introduction. Though it was only tea time, they brought out a cooked chicken and rice, a treat I well know is reserved for special occasions. Passers by stopped to stare and wave, as if they had never seen a white person in their village before.
This particular family struggles to scratch out a living, since the father was blinded by an aggressive soldier in Idi Amin’s army years ago. Now in forced retirement, the two grandparents care for the orphans of two of their deceased sons with little more than a garden and his daughter’s nurse salary. They may have little but they were willing to share it with a stranger. They sang and danced to share some of their culture with me. It was an honor. They even invited me to come back and build a home on their land. Now that’s hospitality!
After blessing the home and family, my friend took me to the Lira Main Market to meet her two sisters, who are vendors there. I felt like I was being paraded around like a celebrity, though it was merely that I am a “Moono” (white person). Whites are popular around here, and Americans are expected to be rich. So much so, that my brother got a wedding proposal sight unseen, since I, being married, am off the market. (David, remind me to tell you about your fiancé. Her bride-price is only four cows.)
As great as the trip was, I miscounted the zeros in my cab driver’s price. When I paid him 30,000 UGsh ($8.11),which I thought he said, he corrected me and showed me his previous text which indicated a price of 300,000 UGsh ($81.08). That certainly makes more sense, but I I’ll have to be more careful in the future.
It is my house guests’ last day today, and they sat around the dinner table telling stories of what they saw on their safari. It was a nice closing to a nice day! The Burleson’s will be missed.
Sunday 30/5
Pastor Gitta proclaimed protection over the pulpit of the mission church, and condemned anyone who does not speak according to the Word. He taught on “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17 NIV), and encouraged everyone to test what they hear from any speaker against the validity of Scripture. Then he invited my friend Robert to preach. Robert did a great job bringing the Word, and reminding us of our identity, which is in Christ Jesus.
After a brief nap, I got to participate in my American Sunday School small group via Zoom. It is always good to be with familiar faces, even if only as screen representations of people thousands of miles away.
The Cessnun family invited me to their home church Bible study and to dinner afterward. When I go to the Cessnun house, I feel a part of their family. Each member of their family is devoted to God, to each other, and to making others welcome in the name of Jesus. I’m even learning most of their names. There are eleven of them, so that’s a feat.
Monday 31/5
I tried to go to work and be helpful, but my eyes are watering, my nose is dripping, and I’m sneezing. The president just addressed the nation yesterday and reminded everyone that Covid is real, and that if he doesn’t see people taking it seriously he will institute another lockdown. Understandably, everyone is now masking and expecting everyone else to be masked, especially when their nurse is sneezing all the time. Noon, about the time my eye started swelling, I left to go get some Benadryl, ibuprofen, and rest. I woke up seven hours later.
Before I left I had the privilege of working next to my friends, Patrick, Samuel, and Janet, who had returned as though nothing had happened. All the staff welcomed her back to the hospital.
On my way back to my quarters, I passed a girl of about eight years, carrying a baby on her back. As I passed, I called out, “Iree ma be,” (which is Acholi for “good afternoon”), and she stopped in her tracks. Her face lit up with joyful surprise as she asked, “Uncle, you speak our language?!” I assured her I was learning, and we counted to ten in Acholi together right there in the middle of the road. She seemed thrilled, and I was proud I had taken the time to try.
Tuesday 1/6
I’m badly congested, sneezing, eyes and nose watering, and a new chesty cough has developed, so I stayed home, not wanting to alarm anyone at the hospital. It was a day of rest, but I got a few household chores done: laundry, cleaning the kitchen, throwing out old leftovers to tidy up the fridge.
At about 6:30, I heard talking at the front door, and went to see who it was. Jess was at the door telling a group of six nurses and their kids that I was not available. Then she turned around to see me and said, “Well, I guess he is.” They had come to check on me, wish me well, and bring me their healing beverage, Mango Juice. They aren’t as big on oranges around here as we are, so this is their home remedy for sickness. I was honored so many of them came to check on me! Among them were: General Ward Charge Nurse Mirriam, Head Midwife Rose, Patrishia, Harriet, Scovia Susan, and Scovia Aling. They were afraid I wouldn’t be back, but I told them I still have ten days. The sound of that number echoed in my ears after they left. Ten days? Am I really down to just that much?
It began to rain as I drifted off. I am hoping that will clean the air of some of this dust!
Wednesday 2/6
When I walk to the hospital I usually pass several students going the other direction to school. Most of them smile, greet me as “Uncle,” and give me high fives, some of which are rather low. (I wish I could share photographs of the little ones.) They are all adorable! But today, while I was distracted trying to play with the camera feature on my phone, I saw my little toddler friend, who is the daughter of one of the staff nurses. This precious little thing saw me and came running toward me with a beaming smile, yelling my new Acholi name: “Mucungwa! Mucungwa!” and slapped me a very enthusiastic high five. What a greeting!
It continued at work! I was welcomed like a prodigal when I arrived. (Note to self: don’t tell people you are sick in Uganda. They think you’re dying.) It was good I was there, because the 25-bed ward was filling. At rounds, the clinical team decided to discharge a few but we filled those beds up quickly too. There was really no time to sit even with three of us on the ward, but when the busiest part was done, Patrick announced he was leaving to go bury his grandmother in Gulu. I was happy to cover for him, not only because it’s why I’m here, but he has become my friend, and he has lost two close family members in less than a week.
I wish you could all know these nurses and the staff here at the mission hospital! There is something amazing about all of them, and each of them individually. I feel like I have a new family of friends here. I could never replace my JSO family, or my Baptist Health family, but I’ve got a new one here.
Cindy reached out to extend condolences to Patrick and then shared with me what he wrote in response. His faith in God and devotion to family shone through, and so did his grace and appreciation of Cindy, even while she remains home caring for her own aging family. I love that guy!
Thursday 3/6
I was all set to give the devotional meditation at the daily staff gathering, but at 7:30, I was still all by myself in the hospital gathering place. After quite some time, someone arrived and explained it is Martyrs Day, a national holiday celebrating all the martyrs who died attempting to bring the Gospel to Uganda. At 8:00 the rest of the group joined us in the ward, and the main clinic opened at 9:00, as it does on weekends and holidays.
It was a crazy day, with the ward nearly full. Even so, at about 2:30, Head Midwife Rose came to fetch me to an imminent delivery. I was first going to just observe, but I noticed the midwives did very little encouraging, comforting, or coaching, and this deficit was compounded by the fact that the expectant mother had no family support, so I took that role. When I first offered her my hand to squeeze, she seemed uncomfortable with the suggestion, but two contractions later she was reaching for it like it was life. I praised, coached, and comforted almost right through the birth, which happened far too quickly, while the midwives were scrambling to slow the baby’s arrival.
Afterward, I received the baby from the midwife who caught the baby, and I held her on her mother’s chest, patting and rocking her to keep the breathing consistent. I suctioned the airway with a bulb syringe and watched as baby surveyed her new environment. She stopped crying quickly and looked around, even tasting the air. She was absolutely precious!
I massaged the uterine fundus, because if I remember anything Dr. Taylor taught us in Nursing school it was to “massage the fundus!” This ensures complete separation of the placenta from the uterine wall.
I kept Mom informed of baby’s activities and demeanor while the midwives did their business, birthing the placenta and suturing the torn perineum. There was a little more hand-holding for some of that, and by the time it was all over, Mama seemed as happy that I was there as I was. I never let on it was my first delivery as a nurse. A lot of what I did I got from being a LaMaze coach for three family deliveries, this time with more official authority.
As if that was not enough to make it a special day, The restaurant oven is now fully functional, and Judith tested its function by making a pizza for Jess and me. We had chicken, bacon, cheese pizza, right here in Uganda like a couple of spoiled Americans. It was great!
I was invited to Robert and Zam’s home for birthday cake after dinner, so I arrived singing “Happy Birthday” to Zam. Once again they included me in their family, as we sang songs, played with the baby, and blessed each other in prayer. I do love being with this group! Praise and I developed a kind of toddler football (soccer) in which Unkie tries to kick the empty coke bottle between Praise’s feet. He is a pretty good goal keeper, but I scored on him a few times and we all laughed a lot.
I walked home in the dark under a moonless sky, and noticed the fireflies here are pretty similar to the ones back home. The differences here are the noises in the dark are much stranger. I heard rumors about hippos and a leopard who roam this property at night, so I was hyper alert for my near-midnight walk.
Friday 4/6
Nothing earth shattering happened at work today, except that the place was full. It seemed like everyone’s IV cannula needed replacing, so for a large part of the day, I was piercing the arms of strangers without the vocabulary to apologize for it.
The topic at the hospital more often than not these days is how short my stay is getting. The staff likes to joke about ways to keep me here, or at least bring me back soon. I guess I am making an impression.
Afterward:
Seven years ago, I made a plan to come here to Uganda and make a difference for the sake of Jesus Christ. I also made a commitment not to wait until I got here to start living according to the mission to which the Lord has called us all: to love as He did, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, show compassion to the fatherless, teach the Gospel, and make disciples. Each of us is to be a Christ reflector in the world wherever we are. Some of us just get sent farther to do our thing.
The trouble with going to the nations, is there is an expectation of some new spiritual darkness to confront, or some earth shattering shockwave resulting from this going, but the reality is that spiritual darkness is pandemic. I find little spiritual difference abroad than at home since it is the entire world that needs a Savior. I have a lot to learn from the folks here, and I hope I can find some way to sow into their lives as well. Broken hearts are everywhere. Some are further burdened by poverty, others by guilt and shame, but they all have one common need—to be loved, and to know that God loves them. This, I have well communicated. Furthermore, I have shown a few nurses that nursing is far better when engaged with the patient rather than merely automatically performing the tasks and duties of the office.