To the terror of a 5-year-old in Bed D9 . . .
You have changed my life.
When you first arrived on the ward I saw your face..How your lip was
pulled up and made your face look like you had a permanent scowl. How
your left eye was missing, and your face was distorted. How you played,
but were very aggressive, as if you’d spent your whole life fighting...
I read through your chart and found out that when you were a week old,
your mother left you at home with your older siblings, so she could go
work for a few hours to bring home money to support you, and when she
came home she found that you had been attacked by some sort of animal..A
rat or something similar, although no one ever knew. Whatever it was,
it left a hole in your face that got infected with probable noma ,which
ate away your nose and ruined your eye. She took you to a local doctor
where they sewed your eye shut and advised your mom to pour hot water on
your eye every day for the next 5 years. Your mom didn’t know what else
to do.
You came to us needing a new nose...but you are leaving with a new heart...
After your first surgery I was your nurse, and I think you hated me, or
feared me so much that you hated me. You left fingernail marks in my arm
as you screamed while I did your breathing treatments that were
actually painless…but you were so afraid that you didn’t realize. I will
never forget how strong you were as you fought to avoid your treatments
and we had to restrain you while you screamed, “marare, marare” (pain,
pain) over and over again throughout every treatment... every 4 hours..
for countless shifts as your nurse over the last 5 weeks. I think you
scared the other patients on the ward as they watched us hold you down
and listen to you scream. I tried to reason with you but you didn’t
understand.
I remember how I stood at your
bedside when Dr. Gary’s wife, Susan came and met you and your mom, and
how your mom wept when Susan looked into her eyes and told her, “You are
a good mom...You are brave,” as if she’d never heard those words in her
entire life. She’d spent the last 5 years caring for you. Keeping you
home so she wouldn’t have to endure the disgusted looks and comments of
people when they saw you, and so you wouldn’t be mocked. She wanted to
protect you, but had no support. Her eyes were so tired and so defeated.
She is the most patient, loving mother I have ever met.
I remember my somewhat futile attempts to make you smile. Your whole
head was bandaged and you could barely see out of your one good eye
because of the bandage..I found a book and sat by your bed and read to
you, placing your hands on the pictures. You’d stare unimpressed at the
book and pull your hands away. My heart hurt for you. I brought you some
crayons and a coloring book. You grabbed the box of colors and dumped
them all in your lap as if you were afraid that someone would steal them
from you...
I kept thinking that after a week or so you’d be more comfortable with
us; with your treatments and taking medications. But you were
relentless. At change of shift us nurses would pray over you frequently,
for peace for your little mind and that you would come to trust us.
That through our love, the little girl that was inside would re-emerge.
I was frustrated and feeling defeated when the weeks were going by and
you were still as angry as ever. After your treatments you would throw
yourself on the ground and lie under your bed on the floor for sometimes
2 hours. You would swing your fist at me whenever I walked by and tried
to say hello. Your mind was so tormented. You wouldn’t interact with
anyone and you wouldn’t venture more than an arms length away from your
mom.
Then this week something about you changed.
You
still hate your treatments and we don’t give you any medications by
mouth because you refuse them, but you’re smiling now. I heard that a
few days ago someone caught you singing in your bed, and another nurse
taught you how to wink.
Now today, more than 5 weeks from when you first walked through that
door..I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes as I watched you ride
around the ward on your little scooter. As I felt you sneak up behind
me, poke me in the side and then dart around the corner while you waited
me for me to come chase you. As I winked at you in your bed, and you
winked back. Today I saw your heart heal just a little. A heart that has
spent it’s whole life fighting and not allowing anyone in, because no
one had ever wanted in.
I was overwhelmed at the changes I saw in you. As I remembered the long
road that it’s been, when I’d found myself so frustrated after a
treatment where you’d thrashed around in your bed and I held you there
while quietly saying “it’s ok” but you never heard me through your
screams.
I cried today because you are healing. Because this journey has been so
difficult. Because, as often as I wanted to request to not be your
nurse, I didn't... Because there was something about you that I was
drawn to. Because I knew that the Lord would be faithful in healing your
body and your mind. That He had the power to return your joy. You
are becoming a little girl again... Ever so slowly you are letting us
love you...The torment that you’ve endured for the past 5 years is
lifting.
My heart has been broken for you. I often ask the Lord that He
would break my heart for His people...and you are the evidence that He
has. I am honored to bear the burden of this broken heart, because it is
worth it to love you.
You, Dear One, are why I am here.
You, dear
one, are why He is here...why He came and lived and died and ROSE AGAIN.
He is healing your body and mind. He has the power to return your
joy. You are becoming all that He intends you to be...the journey may
be difficult at times but He is with you, believing in you, loving you,
giving you all that you need. Let Him love you.
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