Dengue

Living in the tropics sure brings its its share of adventures! In late May I became ill with Dengue Fever, a tropical viral disease, transmitted through a certain type of mosquito. Basically, it causes headache, fever, muscle and joint pains, and a rash--with some other varying symptoms. This illness can indeed be quite dangerous. Fortunately, though, I was kept well hydrated during the illness and did not suffer bleeding, although my platelet count dropped as low as 50 at one point (normal count is 150-450) and I was given a transfusion of platelets (yes, I have Asian blood in me now!). After that, my platelet count rose steadily and I recovered gradually over the next 3 or so weeks. I am grateful to say that I am back at full strength, and have begun to run again in the mornings. Praise The Lord for his faithfulness!

Some asked me during that period, 'did you ever feel angry at God for letting you get sick, or question why it happened at this time?' My answer was, and still is, an emphatic "no!" The first few days I spent in bed at home, where two friends took care of me. On the wall was posted a sign that simply says, "HAVE FAITH IN GOD." From where I lay, I saw that sign everytime I opened my eyes, and read it to myself countless times. A good reminder, especially during the period when I became so delirious that I couldn't get myself to think one clear thought.

God is not surprised by events in our life. We must remember that what may seem like a sidetrack to us was in His plan from the beginning.

So, the third day of running a fever and putting up with a pounding headache, I was taken to the hospital for blood tests, and the following day, admitted. Around the 6th day, the rash came out on my legs and eventually my whole body. It's very different than any other rash I've seen--underneath the skin, and yet very itchy.

The entire time I was ill, God overwhelmingly blessed me with a fresh understanding of his own presence and joy in the midst of suffering! Being this sick places you in the hands of others—almost completely. Sorry if some of this is too blunt, but it's the truth. After being in the hospital and having people spoon feed me, help me to the restroom, measure my urine, being pricked for blood countless times and at all hours, having 2 suppositories put in (in front of others), having make-shift sponge baths, and being visited by friends and their family members, I was sufficiently humbled. Being away from biological family during my illness helped me see tangibly how other believers became our family the moment we were transferred into Christ’s Kingdom.  My unavoidable dependence on others gave me a new appreciation and love for the nationals, my coworkers, as well as believers around the world. I had countless visitors and people who stayed with me in the hospital, and prayers being lifted from many places across the globe. 

God couldn’t have given me more family in a country so far away from my home. I am very touched and quite indebted to my coworkers and friends, as well as our director and his wife, who were the presence of Jesus to me in many tangible ways. Thank you, Lord.

"Operation Pagi"

Two weeks ago, I did something I never imagined doing when I left the U.S. Below is the crazy story I never imagined having. But have it I do, so here goes.. :)

I visited our organization’s farm on Friday with some co-workers, and we stayed overnight. We were told that Saturday morning some of the guys were going to cut open a cyst, or tumor, on one of the goats.. They told us they were going to cut it open, and I thought it would probably drain
out of a small incision. Even though it seemed simple enough, it’s not really the norm for me in the States so, being the curious person that I am, I decided I would watch this process.

After eating our breakfast Saturday morning, we headed up to the goat barn. The surgery, to be performed by lay farm workers and a couple of my co-workers, was going to take place in the Pagi’s—our goat-patient—stall. No doctor, no sterile table. Just a feces-ridden stall floor. Here’s the setup: There are three men holding Pagi down on his side. Another man puts on gloves, preparing to do the actual incision, while my boss held the flashlight for better lighting under the stall roof. I was handed the pack of cotton to hold and my friend stood just behind me, taking a couple pictures.





They give Pagi several local anesthetic shots around the tumor located on his neck just below his left ear, which turned out to be 3 tumors next to each other, totaling about the size of 1 1/2 (female) fists side by side, one end of the tumor seemingly festering.





After somewhat letting the shots kick in, the 'point man' began an incision along the outside of the tumor. I quickly realized that this would not be the type of procedure I had imagined. The tumors were much larger than I expected, and solid. There was nothing draining out of the cut. They were going to slowly separate the tumor from the skin, and remove it. Soon, the point man left (to get something else? I still don’t know) and everyone got a little bit closer, since one of the men holding Pagi down was now using the scalpel.

Eventually I offered to hold the flashlight, so my boss could take a turn cutting and swabbing up blood. Before I knew it, my boss was called upon to go somewhere and asked me to take over the blood clean-up. What do you do when you’re the only ones there for the job? Of course I’ll wipe up blood! No gloves? No matter.






So on went the surgery, separating the skin from the hard mess of tumor. At one point, Pagi began hyperventilating and we paused the surgery to stop the excessive amount of blood he was losing. Eventually the tumor was cut out of Pagi’s neck. At the risk of giving “t.m.i.,” I even helped scrape some out with my hands, I’m pretty sure. None of this could have been very sanitary anyway, though. They stitched him back up with about 8 or 9 stitches for an incision
about 8 inches long, would be my guess. I realized after this was over that this must be why doctors “scrub-in” up to their elbows. It took a good 3-5 minutes to get all the blood off.







Sadly, I don’t have any pictures of after the surgery, but
the last I heard, Pagi was doing well. Within a day he was standing up and
eating. So far, so good. : )
So I guess you could say that on Easter weekend I was “covered
in the blood of the…goat.”

Picture Blog

Well, I figured it's about time to put some pictures up to show you what it's like where I live.

one of our beautiful sunsets

we have occasional "brown outs" that last anywhere from 20 minutes to 19hrs..

In the public market

The Mode of Public transportation

beautiful landscape

There are tons of beautiful flowers that grow in the tropical climate.

we are really close to the sea.. it's gorgeous.

delicous food that we eat here

a "thrift store"!!

Bored? Here’s something for your amusement.

The other day I was in my house, washing some dishes after breakfast. As I turned around toward our front door, I see a young boy, about 10 yrs old, standing in the doorway of our house. He’s vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. The look on his face tells me that the look on mine must be shock. He stands there, feet planted, and says only one word-- “Bola”—while cupping
his hand together repeatedly. After a few seconds and with a complete mental block, I look over at our dishes and point to a bowl in a questioning manner. He looks at them, then back at me, and once again says “bola.” This time he looks around behind our door and spotting the basketball, picks it up and walks out. It is only then that I realize he is our friend’s son, who often lends that basketball to my housemate.

I promptly facepalm and laugh at myself for a few minutes, not knowing what just happened. Oh, the hilarities of language barriers!

Scene two:

I am sitting in a coffee shop the other day, and happen to
be skyping my friend. She is talking when out of the corner of my eye I see
something outside the window that catches my attention. There are 3 people
walking down the sidewalk—a man and 2 girls. The first girl has a hospital mask
on. The second is carrying an IV bag above head level, with the cord running
from it to… the first girls hand! It’s hooked up! The man is walking behind
them, all three strolling along in no hurry. As I describe this to my friend on
Skype who has noticed my wondering eyes, all of the sudden, I find myself
asking her, “We don’t do that in the States, right?” I am confirmed in this,
and so continue watching. They stop at the corner, and the women with the IV
bag hands it off to the man before turning back and leaving them. They stand at the corner for a minute before finally continuing on. I wish I could have gotten a good picture of it, but the place they stopped obscured my view of the women with the IV in her, and it was a little too far for a camera to get good shot, anyway.

I’m not really sure how one goes about closing a story like that. what does one say? ’Don’t let an IV stop you from living your life’?

Kalilangan

This past weekend was the annual festival of Kalilangan--a celebration to commemorate the founding of the city. It was full of events, and even a carnival with games and rides!

Still, the best part was Monday's parade. it was full of colorful costumes and beautiful dancing; not to mention catchy music!

The city was full of people, and of course the crowd was pushin in on the paraders. So the police had to make sure to hold people back behind a line... our particular police man near us was fun, joking with us as he reminded our friends to move back. So, pulling out my "I'm a foreigner" card, I asked for a picture with him, and he obliged.