Accept suprises
that interupt your plans
challenge your dreams,
give a completely different direction to your day,
and who knows, to your life;
It is not chance,
Leave the Father free himself
To weave the patterns of your days.
My reading lately has been leaning toward the contemplatives, Richard Rohr, Thomas Keating, Thomas Merton urging me toward accepting the moments I have, rather then the ones I wish could be. They talk of consenting to the moment, even if it’s not what you want or imagined, and asking what can be learned from the situation before you. What is, the great teacher.
I’m realizing more and more that this sort of acceptance doesn’t come naturally. You really do have to practice accepting and letting go, practice finding the treasures in situations that you didn’t ask for or invite. I suppose the good news is that the more you practice searching these kind of treasures, the more you truly do find. Maybe there is something to that those who seek finding.
Improvising Universal Precautions at the Medical Workshop
I just had a great opportunity to practice letting go again last Friday. I had spent the day before at a Health Conference with the rest of the health team, teaching Wilderness Medicine, practicing first response to snake bites and improvising first response at remote car accidents. We had a good time together and laughed alot as we practiced splinting and treating our broken arms and snake bites. I noticed I was itchy, and even had a bit of a rash breaking out, but changed my clothes, took shower and kept on teaching. Later in the evening, the rash seemed 
to be spreading so I took an anti-histamine and headed to bed. I woke with a day full of plans in my head, to move up river, meet with the team, and a million other small details when I looked in the mirror and saw my eyes were puffy and face and body were covered in a red raised rash that looked conspicuously like the ones I’d treated for allergic reactions in the Emergency Department many many times. After a very brief conference with myself, I realized that my remote location in Sudan was one of the last places I’d sign up to have an allergic reaction, and went looking for my doctor friend to convince me it was no big deal. Unfortunately, she seemed more worried then I was, and soon we’d put in an IV, given some steroids and headed off to the find a doctor of mine at the UN in case things took a turn for the not- so- easy- to- breathe.
We arrived at the UN to find my friend Randy, a exuberant doctor from India who just happened to have returned home a few days early from repatriation in India. It was wonderful to see a familiar face, and to meet a new friend Pallabhi. We were treated like royalty at the UN field station, and I was happy to get a cocktail of antihitamines and steroids to keep the reaction at bay. Flanked by the my friends, Tabea and Sonja, a German doctor and Dutch nurse who just happened to be at the medical workshop that week, we decided to take advantage of a MAF plane that just happened to be in the area to pick up passengers from an other organization. My friend Daniella, a German ICU nurse who just happened to be going out on R & R was a welcome companion in 
case the reaction continued. We we flew together to Juba where Scott just happened to be stationed, and he was able to board the plane with me that happened to have an extra place for him. Scott and Daniella sat on the tarmac, giving me an another steroid injectiton in into the IV when a colleague I’d met in a far away village strolled up to ask what we were up to. He’s a family practice doctor with 30 years experienc in the States, retired now and working in a remote part of Sudan. You guessed it- he just happened to be flying to Nairobi with us for the weekend. By the time we arrived in Nairobi, I felt like I was watching a greater hand weave all these little miracles into the tapestry of a tender concern for me. I didn’t mention that the rash and didn’t return again untili we’d safely landed on Nairobi’s, and had stepped foot into the hospital.
It turns out these things don’t just happen at all. It’s humbling to thing of the way things might have gone if we didn’t have all the details conspiring to bring us safely to Nairobi. It has again reminded me the power of people praying for before we knew we needed it. I know it doesn’t always go that way, but today, I’m feeling really grateful that they did last week. I spent the day with another sobering gratitude, realizing that my friends in Sudan would not have had the option to be evacuated if something went wrong. And certainly, few people in the world have access to the kind of chocolate cake my husband buys me after every visit to the doctor.
The plot continues to thicken. We’re to determine the reason for allergice reaction, as all of us have a great deal of stock in not happening again. There are many theories, and I’ll not likely share them all here. It’s a bit tricky. The doctors say that it may have been a random event, that will never happen again, or it could happen again next week. The really tough part is everyone agrees that a remote part of Sudan is not the best place in the world to have another one, and until there are more answers, I’ve lost my ticket to return to my little Tukul, the muddy streets, my friends and neighbors there and the work at hand.
Tough work, letting go. As I said, I woke up last week with my own plan to start up the Nile, back to life, back to work, and found myself on a plane heading in the other direction. There’s a very real chance that I won’ t be able to return to life in the field, to the clinic, to the people. It has been a lesson in loving what you have while you have it, not knowing when you’ll find yourself heading in the opposite direction. It has been a lesson in gratitude for what is, much more then for what cannot be, and most of all, it is an opportunity to consent to plans that are bigger then mine, being willing to embrace them, grieve them when necessary, and move forward.
One thing is for sure, the adventure continues, and we’ve all got a front row ticket together. We’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, if you are ’suprised’ by a flat tire, a sick child, an event, welcome or unwelcomed, that seems to be taking you in the opposite direction, we’ll invite you to join us. You certainly aren’t alone. Try saying yes anyway, and see where it leads. It is not chance, leave the Father free himself to weave the patterns of your days.
We didn’t really know what to expect–we had read the guide books and talked to friends. They all said the same thing–go to Masai Mara, you will see some incredible animals! I thought it would be a fun trip for my Mom who came to visit last week on her way home from visiting my sister and brother-in-law in India. I imagined we might see some nice giraffes and maybe some wildebeest, zebra, and cape buffalo. We booked three nights with a local company, Jocky Tours, and headed off . . .
From there we headed on a longer drive towards the Mara River. On the way I spotted a large grey lump in the distance. As we approached it slowly took the form of an elephant. What fun to see elephants in the wild, with plenty of space to wander and roam! After a few minutes we came across another bunch in the distance with a baby trailing the group!
We continued to see beautiful antelope, elephant, and birds (the secretary bird is quite unique!) on our way to the river where we saw hippos and even a croc (just his snout was showing in the water).
After a picnic lunch we headed back towards our camp to relax after another great day. We had seen all of the big 5 in one day and, on top of that, each one had babies with them!
We went into the next day wondering what could possible top the previous day and a half. Enjoying nice views of the park and beautiful wildlife in every direction, we happily bounced along in the safari van, stopping here and there to see an animal up close or enjoy a new bird (the lilac breasted roller was one of our favorites!). Soon, we were impressed by a group of three cheetahs by the roadside. As we watched them, they seemed quite interested in a young impala not too far away. Our curiosity and excitement grew as we watched one slowly move towards it. In a matter of seconds, the cheetah accelerated towards the impala as the impala started off. The cheetah quickly gained on it and made the kill right in front of us. Talk about amazing! I had to pinch myself just to remember I wasn’t watching this all on TV. The other two cheetahs joined to partake of the meal and we watched them feast!
Still on a high from the cheetah viewing, we cruised around the park, seeing more elephants with babies and other great sites. As we came up the side of a hill, a lion eating something caught our eye. A few other vans were parked near by and our presence must have interrupted his meal, but rather than walking away, he decided to walk straight towards us! He walked with his food, a young zebra, in his mouth within ten feet of our van. He stopped for a moment on the hillside at eye level and stared right at us–quite a powerful and humbling experience.
We had to call it quits after this finale, overwhelmed by the majesty and beauty of God’s creation. The whole experience was a bit surreal and one that will remain with us for the rest of our lives.
We had a great driver named George who had been driving in Masai Mara for quite some time (as evident by the wildlife he was able to help us see!).
One of our undertakings on during my last rotation was a de-worming campaign for all the school children in the village where I live. I’d never done a de-worming campaign before, but then, nobody had, so it was at the very least a great opportunity to learn. Funny how you can become the village expert on a topic, just by being silly enough to say, ‘yes, I”ll do it.’ 
After their hand washing performance, each child came to a table manned by teachers from each school, local health care workers from the clinic and volunteers from Medair and around town. Just before the handwashing campaign, Commander Deng and I did a one day teaching with 2 teachers from each school on the benefits of handwashing, and de-worming as well as formulating a plan with each of them how to carry it out in their schools. They really caught on well, and by half way through the first day had decided to expand into two ’stations’ for handwashing and de-worming.
De-worming is a process of killing off all the soil based worms that plague children’s tummies, causing anemia, illness, low attendance and pre-disposition to other serious illnesses like Malaira and TB. The medicine we use for ‘de-worming’ is called Mebendazole, and the dose consists of 5 tiny tablets to be chewed by each child. My favorite position at the treatment table was just next to the CHW responsible for making sure the children chewed all their tablets. It was truly entertaining to watch them make chewing faces all day llogn to remind the students to chew all the tablets. I learned valuable 
Arabic words such as Chew them all, and stick out your tongue at my particular post.
Thought this is a our second October in a tropical, equatorial location, all those years living in Colorado and Oregon have left me with a small timer that tells me when it’s time to eat roasted vegetables, bake bread and settle in for a long winter’s nap.Fortunately for me, the rains have come this week to Kenya, and the chill has afforded the opportunity to wear socks and the occasional wool hat for effect (until I have to take it off because I”m roasting) and even my hoody sweatshirt. The folks around me continue to complain that it’s cold, and I just smile and say, ‘it’s supposed to be, it’s October.”
pumpkin patches, apple cider, wearing mittens, golden aspen groves and the first frosty morning heralding another winter, and all the magic that takes place in me as I watch the turning of another year..
The last rotation flew by, and had some interesting twists and turns. Rain has come again to Upper Nile, and with it a whole new variety of flying creatures in all shapes and forms. One evening when Scott was working on a project in another part of Sudan, I”d reached my limit with the squeaking scratching, flapping creatures that had overtaken my room. The final straw came just before the generator was going off, when I found the wee bat flapping his way through my sheets- in my bed! I took my sheets outside, shook them out and
promptly grabbed my things and headed out-of-doors to sleep in a mosquito dome under a tree in the middle of the compound. I made my little home away from home, set up the bed, zipped myself inside, far away from the flying mice (also known as bats) that had been frequenting my room. I read for a while and turned out the light, and as my head lay on the pillow, I heard a faint scratching sound. In my head, I began the familiar conversation, Inside or Outside? I don’t really care if it’s a fire breathing dragon, as long as it’s on the other side of my flimsy net. I’d convinced myself it was outside, whatever it was, and I 
plopped down on the pillow again. Almost asleep for a second time and the insistand scratching began again… Definitely inside, I thought this time and began looking for the culprit. After several moments with my dim flashlight, I saw my unwelcomed guest… a small black bat, hobbling around the inside of my mossie dome, near my pillow. I know that I’ve acclimated to this place, because rather then screaming or swearing, I thought to myself, well, that’s not ideal, is it? A chase insued, and I learned that night that bats can be quite resourceful when they don’t want to be caught and thrown out. Finally I found jar, caught him and sealed him in and tossed it it outside. I layed my head down on the pillow a third time and trying to go to sleep, had a nagging thought that if I didn’t get up and get the bat out of the jar, he’d die in the night. Perhaps this wouldn’t be a problem for me, since I did find him breaking and entering, but ever since Scott started greeting all of these creatures, from scorpions to snakes to bats, with the familiar,’ hello, creature of God, ‘ I’ve had a bit more trouble doing them in… So, I got up and put on my rain boots and escorted the bat to his new home away from mine. I”m not sure what time it was when I finally settled in, but I don’t rememember my head hitting the pillow the fourth time.
suppose, is that it wasn’t a cocoon, really, just a very far away place, with little internet, lots of work to do and too many bugs just when you finally had a few minutes to write a letter to someone you love. So, the blog hasn’t seen much change lately, but hopefully we’ll have a bit more luck in the next rotation. Thanks everybody, for checking in anyway, waiting patiently and staring at the same picture of a tomato that has been gracing our blogs for weeks. We’ve made it back to Nairobi and will be heading out for a bit of family time with Mom Griebling who is stopping in for a few days visit, but we’ll try and post a few blogs that have been brewing over the last few weeks.
I suppose I have to agreee with Becca, that
My friend Margaret has been a nurse in Southern Sudan for many years. I’m sure her past holds a history I will never unlock, and she seems to think it’s not the past that matters, anyway, but right now. She is one of the two staff that manage the clinic, and she has a quiet leadership about her. Mother Teresa did say once, it’s not the person that does the most, it’s the person who sacrifices the most who makes 
an impact. I think this is true of Margaret. The staff, the patients listen to her, because she is the first one at the clinic in the morning and the last one to go home, often walking home when the sun is just setting. She works hard, and has such an obvious concern for the patients. The hardest thing we have to do in a day is work together to chose which patients need to be sent home to be seen another day. She never wants to send any away, and would rather work into the night then see them walking away without medicine. She’s soft spoken, and when I tell her how amazing I think she is, she rolls her eyes and moves quickly on to another topic. Even on the days when things are unstable here, she always tells me we’ll find a way through it. 
honest, sometimes it’s easier to go to another country and love their neighbors, rather then loving that lonely neighbor next to you. I suppose that the big things, the ‘saving the world’ things affirm to that we’re doing something that matters, but it takes a lot more faith, in my book to let go of all that just love because you know it matters, wherever you are.
Saturday concluded two weeks of training for our community health workers (CHW’s). They came from our clinic and 6 surrounding clinics in the area to learn more about treating malnutrition, Malaria, Tuberculosis, HIV/AIDS, and a variety of other illnesses they commonly encounter. My counterpart Liselotte did an amazing job of organizing the training, bringing in local doctors, members of the County Health Department, senior clinic staff and Medair staff to teach.
Kala Azar, Brucelosis, and HIV/AIDS. Favorite, not because they are good for people, but favorite because there is so much we can do to help treat and prevent them. This was a sharp group of students, and I have to say I’m continually impressed by their committment to their own people, their willingness to travel long distances, work long hours and study in order to serve in their clinics. Of all the work 
we do here, I continue to feel that this, leaving a legacy of knowledge is one of the greatest things I get to do here. I thought I’d leave you with a few photos of our staff as they finished the training. Congratulations, everybody!
