Jed had been running a fever for about 2 1/2 days. Not something I typically worry about here since there are a myriad of bugs that can cause these. But, he didn’t have any other symptoms . . . except his ankle was hurting. About the same time the fever started, he began complaining that his ankle hurt. Like any good mother, I told him to suck it up. I figured he probably twisted it when he didn’t notice and wanted sympathy. But, after 3 days and the fever not improving and the ankle getting worse, we took him to a pediatric doctor in town. That doc took a look at his throat, told us he had a throat infection, and told us not to worry about the ankle, just “give him these antibiotics and don’t let him have ice cream until his throat heals.”
I felt good about the visit until later that day when Jed was complaining even worse about his ankle -- crying that it hurt so bad. So, I found out from a friend that an orthopedic specialist worked in our neighborhood clinic. He happened to be coming in that night, so I took Jed in to see him. As soon as he took a look at Jed, he told me that I needed to take him to the hospital right away because he had a bone infection. Woah. That was not at all what I was expecting . . . or had ever heard of.
So, I quickly went back home and told Chris. Here’s where I started to be blown away by the level of support we have here. I can remember times in the States when friends rallied around us during a difficult time. I was nervous about coming here and losing that constant support. I needn’t have worried. As soon as our friends here heard about what was going on, a few friends offered to watch Abe and Lucy and keep them overnight if needed. We also had 3 men volunteer to travel with us to the hospital since it can be somewhat confusing and it helps to have people who can run to get things from the pharmacy or take test results to the doctors or go get food, etc. We were packed with everything we'd need (sheets for the bed, blankets, changes of clothes, disinfectant, soap, toothbrushes, filtered water, some snacks and books, and our precious smartphones -- for sending messages around the globe!) and in the car to the hospital within an hour. We were also receiving messages from around the globe that people were praying with and for us as we left. Even as I sat with my child, in pain and scared, leaned up against me on the way to the hospital, I could feel God’s presence and His love in the moment. I knew we were covered by the best Healer and best Insurance Policy anyone ever had!
There’s a Psalm that says, “Some trust in chariots, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” These days, I think we could rephrase that psalm. “Some trust in 401Ks and Insurance Companies, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” It did feel a lot like that as we drove up to the hospital complex.
Right away, we were reminded we were in Asia as Chris and our other friend tried to park their cars in the parking lot. 2-3 cars deep in some places. They wedged the cars in and handed the keys over to the parking lot tenants. They would probably have to move the cars a few times to let people in and out. We paid about 60 cents for overnight parking and headed into the building.
First stop, toilet. We asked around and a young man with white tunic, prayer cap, and long beard looked at us apologetically. “You won’t want it, can’t use it.” What he meant, of course, was it was a squatty potty and he thought we, foreigners, would look down on the hole in the ground with a cup of water, no toilet paper, and no soap. We said, “Thanks,” and all had our turn. Next stop, admission.
It took walking to about 2 different areas trying to shove our papers onto the pile in front of people who came after us before we found the counter where we had to pay to be admitted to the hospital. Chris, carrying Jed, Me, carrying our things, and our 3 friends made quite an entourage. Now, as I paid attention to other patients, this was not uncommon. It also seemed that the larger the entourage, the more quickly you are noticed. It also doesn’t hurt to have a friend who is 6’8”. . .
After admittance, we headed to the emergency department where we waited for Jed to get blood taken for some tests. Hospitals here -- especially government ones like we were in -- tend to be very crowded. There just aren’t enough spaces for all the people who need treatment. That means patients must be willing to share beds sometimes. So, we were wiggled in at the foot of another patient’s bed while we waited. Chris and I stood beside him while most of the people in the neighboring beds stared at us, wondering who we were and why we were in that hospital. After a few minutes, the nurses came to try to take Jed’s bloodwork.
That’s where everything went downhill. Jed is terrified of needles and cries and begs and then screams uncontrollably. It’s not fun for any of us! The nurses ended up deciding to take us into a back room where we would be a bit less of a spectacle. We tried listening, reasoning, hugging, and praying. We ended up having to hold him down and just go for it. By the looks on people’s faces as we left the back room, the hospital walls didn’t muffle much.
Then, we moved on to the x-ray room. We asked about a lead vest for Jed to wear as they took the x-rays. They went ahead and took the x-ray. We complained that they didn’t use the shield. They looked at us like we had no clue what we were talking about. Turns out, they didn’t have any lead vest. The technicians themselves, just stood behind a wooden counter to take the x-rays. My prayers go out to those technicians who are exposed to radiation every day of their lives to help patients in this area.
At this point, I was wishing for a quiet place where I could hug Jed or have a good cry, but we were brought into another room where there were 3 beds and Jed was the 4th patient. He ended up laying down at the foot of a bed with an injured woman and her grandson lying there while I sat beside him and we tried to read a book together for a few minutes. After some time, we were called upstairs to meet with the surgeon. Here's a picture of Jed laying at the foot of the bed, waiting for surgery to start.
Now, this man probably handled at least 10-20 surgeries that night. In just the few hours that we were there, we saw about 5 other patients go in and come out. He also had another 20-30 patients in the emergency area and I have no idea how many people were in the wards. We were aware of how busy he was, but he was willing to sit down and talk with us and try to explain things to us -- something he would probably never do with local patients. We were very thankful that he did that. He also talked with Jed and tried to make him less nervous.
He told us that there was definitely an infection in his bone and that the best thing to do would be to do a minor surgery immediately to clean out the bone and then start him on IV antibiotics. We asked him if there would be a way to take a culture of the infection so we could try to find out what exactly Jed had. He told us they never do that there and had no way to make it happen. But, after talking it through, he told us they could get us a sample to take to an independent lab in town. Again, something they normally wouldn’t do, but were willing to undertake for us.
In the middle of all the chaos and unfamiliar territory and stress of it being MY kid, I was looking for things to be grateful for. One of the things that I’m truly grateful for in the whole experience was that group of doctors who were willing to talk to the crazy foreigners who seemed to be questioning everything they did.
After talking with the doctor, we found out that we had about 2-3 hours to wait until he could have surgery so that he could fast for the anesthesia. So, they took us back to the room we were in and the Auntie moved her legs so Jed could lay down on the bed again and I could sit beside him and rub his back. He was able to get a little rest -- it was after midnight by now -- and I was able to look around the room. The woman and young man we shared a bed with were curled up trying to sleep. There was another young man in a bed who had hurt his ankle, but looked like he’d be able to go home soon. He was sharing his bed with a friend and another friend came in bringing some rice and veggies for him to eat. In this country, your friends and family need to prepare and bring the food for you to eat, clean water to drink, clean blankets, soap, etc. In the last bed was another old woman who looked like she had a broken leg. She had at least 5 young men come to visit her and bring her food.
About this time, we told our friends who had been with us all this time that they could go home to their families and we’d call them in the morning. They had run to the pharmacy for us, checked up on the lab work, translated when we didn’t understand, and any number of other things. Really amazing.
I sat in the hospital, waiting for someone to come and say it was time for the surgery. I sat thinking about all I’d seen so far: the crowded rooms, the crowded admittance desks, the doctors swamped with patients, the nurses and orderlies who were trying desperately to find a place to put the patients. This hospital wasn’t as sterile, wasn’t as tidy, wasn't as organized, and didn’t have as complete of care as we would have found in the States. But, God was using THIS place for Jed’s healing. He was using THESE nurses and orderlies and doctors to give Jed what he was needing right now. He was using THESE patients and visitors surrounding us to make us feel welcome. I started reciting in my head and heart all the things I had to be thankful for. I recited all the people I knew were praying for us. I recited my trust in God as the true Healer. About this time, one of the young men looked over at us and said, “You need for anything, you tell us. We will help you. We are local here, don’t worry.” He was the same young man who had apologetically showed us where the bathroom was at the beginning of our visit. The woman who shared the bed with Jed smiled at me and asked politely what was wrong with him. She said, “God willing, all will be fine soon.” Yes, I believed that, too!
Chris decided that he should go and check with the doctors to see if it was time for Jed’s surgery, so he went away for a few minutes and came back with a man who took us to the doctor. Chris carried Jed, I carried our things, and we went back up to the operating rooms.
The surgeon took one more look at everything, asked again how much he had eaten and when, and then said we could start surgery now. Someone gave Chris a list of things we would need from the pharmacy for the surgery and he left to go get it. A young man came and picked up Jed and carried him back. I was asked to wait outside. I sat, praying in a hall with about 6 other families while Chris came back for help in finding a pharmacy that was open after midnight. When he returned with the supplies, an orderly took them inside and we sat down to wait and pray. About 15 minutes later -- or less -- the doctor came out and said that he was finished. He had drained pus from Jed’s leg and they were bandaging him and it all went well. Chris was invited back to see Jed about 5 minutes later. He was coming out of the anesthesia. He asked for me and I also went back. Here is what I saw when I got to that hallway:
Here is the part Jed now laughs about. When I came back, he was staring blankly at the ceiling. I reached out and hugged him and said all kinds of Mama-type things to him. He tried to look at me, but ended up focusing on the ceiling again. I asked him what he was thinking about. “Those lines are really close!” Then he looked right at me, “Mama, you have 4 eyes.” I had to laugh. It was that story that gave him the first laugh of the morning.
The relief that washed over me when we saw he was out and okay turned quickly to a realization that I’d eaten nothing for about 12 hours. I felt like I was going to faint, so I quickly sat and ate and drank something. After we got the okay, they wheeled Jed back down to the emergency ward. There were even more people than before. They moved another patient and found room for Jed on a bed with another young boy. Jed lay upside down on the bed, with his feet near the boy’s head and vice versa. We took out the blanket we had from home, wrapped it around Jed, and he fell asleep at once. I squatted next to the bed, holding Jed’s hand, until a man came over and gave me the stool he’d been sitting on. There were many relatives laying on blankets on the floor, trying to get some rest. Chris suggested that I do the same, so I lay down on a wool blanket we had brought along and tried to sleep. I had to move once to let a patient get by. Chris sat on the stool, holding Jed’s hand, and resting his head on the foot of the bed.
A little while later, a man came to Chris and brought him to a back room. It looked like a storage closet, but they had put a bed in there and we were asked to move back there. A private room?! We weren’t expecting or asking for it, but we said thank you and shifted. It felt a bit strange, leaving the crowded ward when none of the other families could do the same. But, we realized that we were kind of a zoo and it was probably as much for everyone else’s comfort at not feeling like they had to accommodate us as it was for our own comfort.
We laid Jed on the bed, I lay next to him, Chris took the wool blanket on the floor and we tried to get a few hours of sleep. It was probably after 3 a.m.
Jed woke promptly at 6:00. We got to hug and cuddle and get some food in him. We also got pretty adept at using a bottle for a bathroom! The night before, we had promised him that kids who have surgery get to have ice cream for breakfast. So much for the pediatrician's instructions about no ice cream! He started asking when breakfast would be. Trouble was, in this country, shops don’t typically open until after 10:00. So, he was going to have to wait.
We started getting intermittent doctor visits around 7:00. It started with the surgeon. He checked Jed’s leg, that he had no fever or pain, and ordered some more medicines for his IV port. That IV was taken out and we were told that another one would need to be put in before we could leave. The rest of the morning feels like a blur to me. A few people came in and out. It seemed like this room was used as a sort of locker/dressing room for the nurses and staff. They would come, leave their purses, grab their white coats, ask a few questions. Some would look through Jed’s files. There’s no such thing as non-disclosure here as far as I can tell.
The highlight was getting to Skype with Jed’s grandparents. It seemed to be a real relief to them to get to see Jed smile and joke and to know that we were all okay. I can’t imagine how worried they all were. I’m thankful they all knew to pray. I’m also thankful that there is such a thing as Skype. Skype Developer, whoever you are, THANK YOU!!!
The other highlight was about 2 hours before we went home. In walked one doctor, then another, then about 10. I’m still kicking myself that I didn’t get this picture. It seemed like all the doctors in the whole hospital had come to see Jed that morning. They looked at his chart, talked over the treatment, agreed that it was best, shook hands with Chris and Jed, and went their way.
In retrospect, that was probably supposed to be our discharge. But, we had been told Jed needed to have a new IV port put in. So, we waited. Then, Chris started asking questions. Finally, a nurse came to put in a new port. We held Jed while he cried, but then it was done and we were able to pack up, take Jed, and say goodbye to the place. Hopefully for good!
We had a few stops to make on the way home. We took a sample of the infection to a private lab so we could have it analyzed. It will take about a week to get that back. We also stopped to get ice cream! We picked up Abe and Lucy and made our way back to our house. We immediately had to practice our new nursing skills because it was time for the IV injections. If you don’t like medical stuff, tune out for the next paragraph.
Chris gets the injections ready in the syringes and I administer them. Chris has as hard of a time with needles as Jed does and the idea of an IV port makes him clutch at his chest and walk around to try to keep from fainting. But, he holds Jed and talks to him and tries to take his mind off it while I put the medicine in. We had to give only one dose in the afternoon, so we just put in the medicine and then flushed it with saline. He screamed through most of it, but we got it done. After that, we settled in for the evening.
That night was family movie night. It sure felt good to hold our kids and thank God that the first hard day was behind us! We even got to give him his night injections while he was sleeping! So far, that was the only time he slept through them, but he did.
So, now Jed has a splint up to his mid-thigh with bandages all around it. He has a port in his hand for the antibiotics. We will have to keep changing the bandages every 2 days and giving medicine for a week. He will be off his leg for at least 2 weeks and at the end of the week will switch to oral antibiotics for I don't know how long. Before I go, a few more things to be thankful for:
1. Strength for taking care of him. I never would have thought I’d be able to give medicines and watch his leg be cleaned and do the things God has given us the strength to do.
2. Jed’s bravery and growth. I’ve seen Jed go from despair to hope. From screaming and fighting to whimpering and staying still. From complaining about everything that was wrong to remembering the things he can be thankful for. God is using this whole time to clean his leg and his spirit!
3. A doctor who is close. The orthopedic doctor is just 2 blocks away. The pharmacist is also there and willing to make house calls when we need it. They both want to help in every way they can.
4. Less shots. We were told that we can drop 2 doses of antibiotics per day, so now, we only have 14 injections left over the next 4 1/2 days instead of 23.
5. People who know. God has surrounded us with people who are ready to help. Including the Doctor and Pharmacist. 2 foreign doctors who live here and will answer calls. A few foreign nurses who are also ready to help. My brother-in-law who we can Skype and ask questions to -- Thanks, Paul! Other friends who are doctors, nurses, etc. who have all volunteered to answer questions or help in any way.
6. We get to be at home. In the States, we would have spent a week in the hospital. This would have been better over there, but here, it’s better for Jed to be home since it’s cleaner and less crowded. So, we’re glad we can be a family all together right now.
7. Cost . . . how to even say it. It has cost around $50. That includes parking, admission, blood tests, IVs, medication, x-rays, surgery, hospital stay, crutches, wound dressing, follow-up visits with the doctor. Everything!
So, God is good. His mercies are new every morning. His grace is sufficient for us. If you think of us, you can pray that God continues to give us strength, and most of all, that God gives Jed complete healing through this process.
A closing pic of our smiling boy the morning after surgery before we were discharged. Gosh, I love that kid!!!
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