22 Jan 2015 Where the streets have no name

22 Jan 2015

Where the streets have no name

    We have participated in several mobile medical clinics and provided care for hundreds & hundreds of people out in distant villages.  This outreach has HUGE potential and we are working toward acquiring more medications and reliable transportation.  We are visiting places far off the beaten path.  These villages are found on trails off of rutted up sandy roads. It reminds me of the song by U2 (& redone by Chris Tomlin): "Where the streets have no name".  Great song. Play it as you read this--

    2 nights ago we drove home from our mobile clinic deep in the bush. I was riding in the back of a pickup truck with 4 men, a mother and her baby girl and young son (plus 2 wooden benches, a stool, several mats, boxes of equipment and medications.  It was one of those reassuring and inspirational moments that remind me that its all worth it. The clinic was a huge success (Thanks Zach & Charis for Project 21) and I was now enjoying an open air view of a brilliant night sky from the back of a truck.  The hot dusty air blew in my face and parted my beard as I stared up at infinite stars and a sliver of a moon. We bounced along passed countless villages and saw people sitting around cooking fires in the pitch black darkness. I imagined elders telling stories to their children and grandchildren around those fires. There are practically no real books in this part of Chad so history is passed along through story telling.  

    I wonder if one night they may be telling stories about how the hospital or the church or God or even "you" reached out and made a difference.  We all have a part in shaping that history. 

 

-Mason

24 Jan 2015 Fatigué

24 Jan 2015     Fatigué

Je suis fatigué. [I am tired]. 

 I think everyone who serves here is tired too.  We work 6 days a week at the hospital and are on-call every night. This is busy season for the OR and we have about 2 more months before our annual leave.  Je suis fatigué... I haven't written much for a long time. Here are a few  highlights of our past few months: 

*Grace & Emmie are thriving. They are making friends and learning more French.  Our compound is surrounded by a wall and every day (morning & evening) kids are sitting on top wall calling "Grace"..."Emmie"...

"Give me ball" or "Give me water". 

We received 3 soccer balls in a care package and we loan them out every day and the local kids return them (almost) every night when they are done. We also give them fresh water to drink. It's such a little thing for us but it builds relationships and trust with our "neighbors".  The girls now frequently hop the wall to play with the locals. 

*We've had two great visits in Dec and Jan from friends/anesthesia students.  They all brought gifts and stories from home and really served to lift our spirits.  One group had perfect timing because a visiting anesthetist (Shawn) covered the OR for me (& gave me an IV!) while I was bedridden with malaria for 3 days. Everyone gets it--that's life in Chad, Africa. 

 Our 2nd visiting group brought fresh energy and encouragement. David kindly took on any project thrown at him & Jessica rolled up her sleeves and ran the OR like a seasoned anesthetist and not like a 3rd year student. They are future missionaries no doubt as they departed for home continuing treatment for malaria without complaint. 

*Three  Chadian nurses are still in-training to be safe anesthetists. They are mastering spinal anesthetics, learning simple pharmacology and how to administer general anesthesia. It is exciting to see them improving.

 

*We have received amazing donations from a few people and have been able to fund student tuitions, school supplies, and uniforms.  We could easily triple this with more resources. The need is so great and opportunity limited.  How do you break the cycle? Education is so important.  The issues Chad faces likely will be solved by a Chadian.  The kids we aid may help shape this country's future. 

*We have been able to pay for medication for many children in the village and on the pediatric ward whose families just couldn't afford care.  We continue to see kids needing treatment for severe malaria, typhoid, tetanus, meningitis, terrible burns from fire or scalding water, various cancers, snake bites, and debilitating malnutrition. Again, the need is great. 

*We have received many emails and care packages over the past several months. Your messages, care packages and prayers have been truly encouraging.  Life here is incredibly rewarding, incredibly stressful and exhausting!

So as I reflect on our time here, we are making an impact. You are part of that impact. 

Our family is getting used to dirty black feet, insects, heat, and lots of meals served with rice. We are ready for 2 months in the U.S. to eat well, relax and reconnect with you all.  If you want to hear stories, see pictures or have us over for a meal in April or May--please let us know.  Just don't serve rice & beans. Je suis fatigué of that meal :-)

  -Mason

"Love your neighbor as yourself"

         Matt 22:39

Praying under pressure 13Dec2014

* I decided to tweak an email I sent to a friend and share a lighter side of my life here in Chad.

Praying under pressure 13Dec2014

     I was preparing to lead morning worship at the hospital this am and pressure began to build. Staff, patients and visitors gather to sing & pray each day at 7am. I found out late yesterday afternoon that it was my turn to lead again-- yikes! I got pulled into this because I didn't understand one garbled conversation a month or two ago. Apparently there was an incomprehensible chat in French between me and a notorious "low talker" Monsieur Mumbles during which time I agreed to help out a few times a month. Seriously? I barely speak the language!

     It takes me a long time to write & translate and practice my French but I pulled it all together last night and finished preparing early this am. 

     I arrived early to read & pray as I waited for worship to start. And I waited. And I waited. Then realized that I need to poop.  I can hold it, no problem. I waited some more as the sweat built up on my forehead. I waited precisely 24 minutes and then took decisive action: its time to get prayer time over with! I had urgent matters pending!

     I went inside Urgence (ER) and asked "don't we normally pray & sing each morning? Where is everyone?"  The nurse mumbled something about people... Not here today...etc.   I was 1% disappointed and 99% relieved since I had been venting some serious gas during our entire one minute conversation.   I turned and shouted the French equivalent of "see ya!" as I sprinted home just in time. 

     I may not have prayed in front of a crowd this am but I sure did pray during the entire jog home that I could hold it together for a few more minutes! I also prayed no one was on the only toilet in our house. My plan B was the backyard & I was fully prepared to squat and wave at the neighbors if necessary!

-Mason

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

Snuggle 9 Dec 2014

Snuggle     9 Dec 2014

     If I close my eyes, I can see an image of my wife, Kim, lying in our bed with our girls. Just snuggling. 

Kim lays on her side and pulls one of the girls tight against her-- their face buried into her chest and they squeeeeze each other. You can see the love. It's very sweet. 

     Yesterday we had a little boy arrive to pediatrics. Apparently, he drank some pesticide spray.  Our pediatric consult area is outdoors. Under the trees, in the dirt, there is an old metal bed frame with a metal mesh-like surface that we sit on. Sometimes when kids need close monitoring, they lay on this "bed".   I was very busy in the OR but finally got out to check on the boy. He was laying on his side on the metal bed...And it was clear...he was dying.  The team had given him all of the WHO recommended infusions and medicines but it was just too much pesticide and he arrived too late. He was dying of organophosphate poisoning. 

     I slipped a pulse oximeter out of my pocket to confirm what I already knew. Oxygen levels were very very (very) low. I couldn't believe he was alive with numbers that bad. He was drowning right in front of us.

We have no ventilator. He will not recover.  It was not a pretty way to die. 

     I kneeled down to tell the mother and father the sad reality: your son is going to die...very soon. The mom walked away in obvious despair but returned quickly.  She crawled up onto that metal bed frame and snuggled up to her son. She pulled him tightly against her body with his face buried in her chest and she hugged him as she sobbed.  I could see so clearly my own wife snuggling our daughters in the same manner. She does it almost everyday. And this was the last time this momma would ever snuggle her little boy. I can't imagine the depth of pain but I had an intensely personal response to her grief. I saw her as I would have seen my wife and my child and I had to push back the tears. 

     I sent away the very large crowd that had gathered around to watch. I wanted the family to have privacy and let that boy die in peace. I offered medication to make him comfortable and told them to stay as long as they wanted.  The dad requested to leave immediately. He walked away to hire a moto. I couldn't understand and I kept asking them to please stay. The boy is almost gone...don't let him die on the road. But they left. 

     This is Chad. Most people are poor. I found out later that it costs a lot more to hire a moto to carry a dead body than a passenger. They had to get moving right away or they couldn't afford to get home. I would have paid double...triple...anything to let that boy die in a bed while snuggling his momma. 

     Snuggle your loved ones tonight. 

     

-Mason

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

4-3-2-1 8 Dec 2014

4-3-2-1      8 Dec 2014

I was called out of our morning meeting at the hospital around 730am with the wave of a hand. I knew what it was even before I asked for confirmation: Bébé? Oui. 

     A mother had just delivered twins but baby #2 wasn't breathing. I gave oxygen, breathed for him with an ambu bag and tried to keep him warm. Danae (the OB/GYN) lifted her scrub shirt to press baby against her skin to warm him as I continued to hand ventilate. Eventually he was breathing on his own and was sent to our "NICU"-- that's the neonatal intensive care unit; except in Chad it means he is getting oxygen while he rests in a tiny cardboard box in our OR with 2 hot water bottles tucked beside him.  Guess what? He's still alive tonight!

     Flash forward to around 8pm when our volunteers arrived from the US. They were only here 10 minutes before an urgent phone call: maternity...a mom turned quickly...send Mason now! I threw on scrubs and my friend Shawn (also an anesthetist) hurried along behind me. 

     We arrived to find a seemingly dead looking pregnant woman laying on the floor and frothing at the mouth. We moved her quickly down the sidewalk to the OR and began CPR. Chest compressions, oxygen/ventilation, IV epinephrine...Nothing. Now thats a terrible situation--lifeless and pregnant. I told Danae "she's dead-dead ...get the baby out". 

I barely finished the sentence before Danae cut down and retrieved a baby girl. Good pulse but not breathing. After an extended period of manual ventilation and stimulation the baby perked up and breathed on her own! The unmistakeable scent of Arabic perfume lingered in the air as it radiated from the cloth I used to wrap the baby in. The fabric had been part of her mothers clothing. Blood covered the OR table, floor, and the surgeon. We cleaned up the baby's mother and brought in the family for a final viewing. Tears and prayer filled the OR. The family left to find a truck to carry the body away and I walked home alone under a brilliant night sky, still replaying the events of the day and looking for lessons to learn. 

     I returned home to find suitcases filled with treasures from the US. Our friends brought items purchased or donated for us and our hospital-- it was like an early Christmas. After 30minutes of sorting goodies and eating junk food another call came: stat C-section. Seriously?!

     A very young mother with complicated labor was already in preop when I arrived. Unfortunately the dead body from an hour ago was still in the OR (still waiting for family) and we had to find a way to move it out and bring in the new patient without making a big scene. If it wasn't so sad it would have been comical. We pushed the dead woman into our tiny  preop room after angling the new patient's stretcher in a way that she had to twist around to see the body.  And that's exactly what she tried to do. We built a human wall with the 4 of us as we shuffled along pulling the new patient past the body (just 2 feet away). 

Now in the OR: IV fluid, monitors, spinal anesthetic administered easily--cut down and baby retrieved in textbook fashion. Except...Silent baby. Floppy baby. Apneic baby. After stimulating, warming, and ventilating with oxygen...nothing. Pulse rate 160:perfect. But he's not breathing. 

Ventilate. Stimulate. Spank...again and again. The sound of surgery continued behind me. NDilbe attended to the mother as I worked on the baby boy. After maybe 40 minutes that baby boy had a perfect heart rate, perfect color, perfect body temperature... but he wouldn't breath. Not even a sputter. I told Danae I was stopping. We have no ventilator here and no other option. Chad is harsh. Only the strongest survive. I kept my hand draped over his chest and I stroked his hair as I felt the warmth of his body slip away while I whispered words of prayer. It think it took about 10 minutes to see his heart rate slow and then finally stop. I stayed with him and I finally glanced over my shoulder at his young momma: She knew. She saw my eyes and heard the silence. It took 10 minutes to watch a baby die once I quit breathing for him. How long will it take to forget this day?

4 resuscitations

3 babies in peril

2 babies beat the odds

1  husband/father/friend who is beyond thankful for faith and daily blessings. Life is good even when it's hard. 

-Mason

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

*Dieudonne 21 Nov 2014

*Dieudonne     21 Nov 2014

     I want to adopt Dieudonne. 

(Dieudonne means "God gives")

He is 11yrs old and weighs about 35lbs.  He looks like he's 6.

I can't really adopt him because he has a family. Possibly a nice one. Dieudonne was very sick with malaria and they brought him to me for care. We treated his malaria with all of the right medications and a blood transfusion but he also had a worrisome incidental abdominal mass.  He recovered fully from malaria but after failing conservative medical treatment for his mass we decided to operate. 

     I wonder what was going on in his parents' lives 11years ago when they joyously named their newborn son "God gives"? They were poor and living in a harsh country with virtually no personal possessions.  I remember thinking those things in the operating room after little  Dieudonne was safely anesthetized and the surgeons opened his abdomen. The news was very bad. Cancer. Invasive. Inoperable. My heart sank. We had to close up with no hope for long term survival. Would his family still love on him & feed him knowing that he would die? With very limited money and food, that may be considered bad resource management.  Sometimes parents give up on kids who are going to die. It's not meant to be cruel, it just makes practical sense. But I'm not practical like that. I have the luxury and burden of being born in the United States where food, shelter, and healthcare are much more readily available. Shouldn't everyone be so blessed?  That's why I would want to keep Dieudonne. 

     But Dieudonne will head home in a few days for an uncertain timeline toward death. There is no hospice, no pain medicine and no comfort in his time left. His comfort will come through God. 

     There are two points to this blog post. 

1) 

God gives. We can't always appreciate the ripple effect of how a loss contributes to a magnified gain elsewhere but that is often the case, isn't it?

2)

I want to get out of here. Not permanently. I mean I want to get out into the villages and the bush even further...with people and supplies and equipment.  I want to check on people like Dieudonne at their home. Lots of people leave our hospital and we don't see them again. Lots of others never come to the hospital at all. It's too far, too expensive, too scary.  We also want to do mobile clinics sometimes.  So I want transportation and I hesitate to ask for help, but I really need help with this. 

There is a good truck available here but it needs huge import fees and taxes paid. $7000!  It's a one time expense.

It's Christmas season. Instead of signing us up for fruitcake-of-the-month club, would you consider donating to a worthy cause that keeps on giving?  Perhaps you or your church or your business would be willing to financially help us to better serve kids like Dieudonne?

For specific details about options for giving, please private message me on Facebook or you can email me:

mcdowellcrna@gmail.com

-Mason Kim Grace & Emmie

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

*16 Nov 2014

*16 Nov 2014

     Rainy season is over. Actually it ended in October. We have traded torrential downpours for hot breezes. The moldy bath towels that used to take 2-3 days to dry are now pristine in just a few hours. 

     Can you believe it may not rain again in Chad until next May? Well that's good in some ways. Road travel is possible again though no one has graded the dirt roads so it is still cratered like the moon. But IF we wanted to go anywhere and rutted, dusty, double black diamond mogul field washboard roads weren't a deterrent, we would still have another problem to overcome: gas. There has been a shortage here since early October. At times there has been no fuel. Or if you could find it, the gas that typically sold for 600 FCFA (francs) per liter was going for 1500 or even 4000 francs per liter.  Luckily I walk to work at the hospital everyday so I'm not affected directly.        

     So back to the rain... Rain is life here in Chad. Everything needs water to live, including bugs. Right?

  We live in the bush of Africa. I know you guys have bugs where you live but we have more. Trust me. On top of that-- we have lights-- INSIDE our house. Well, kind of. We have light bulbs in practically every room but we don't use them. I replaced our light in the living room with the dimmest bulb available in Chad. I figured I could outsmart bugs by using a light the same wattage that your 1986 calculator watch used.  It didn't make a difference. Bugs just love light and even though we are in a house dim enough to require us to wear headlamps, we still host a massive insect party every night. Like its the Superbowl and tickets are free so drop on in and bring everyone you have ever known, met, or seen.  

I don't know where they come from but they find a way inside. We have screens on our windows but these bugs somehow liquify and ooze through only to reanimate and fly directly into my: eye/drink/yawning mouth. 

     Have you ever had a bug in your bed? ONE bug is annoying and a little creepy.  I routinely wake up with dozens in our bed. At first I had to rub my arm or leg every time I felt a bug. I slept in until 7am today happy as could be. Me and all of my buggy friends.  Today was laundry day and before I could put the sheets on the bed tonight, I had to sweep all the bugs off of the mattress. I will conservatively estimate there were at LEAST 50 bugs & possibly 75 bugs hanging out on the mattress. It probably took me 10 minutes to get most of them off but by the time I finished, they were back on the part of the mattress where I began the de-bug process. Did I mention this is all going on INSIDE a bug net that covers our bed? These bugs are small and persistent. I finally recognized that I wasn't in charge so I just put the sheet on the mattress like they like it. I will dust off my side again at bedtime. After I'm asleep, they can feel free to join me. I don't bite. 

     So, the rain is gone. Bugs should take the hint and go away too. I'm asking everyone reading this to turn your front porch light on tonight to draw their fire. Give us the night off. You can have our bugs tonight. Maybe turn it into a fund raiser? 

     Instead of dumping that bucket of cold ice water on your head, leave your recessed canister halogen florescent oil rubbed bronze front porch light chandelier on tonight and donate $1 for every bug you can count after 1 hour. Message me for info...I could use the cash for more bug spray. 

-Mason

P. S. 

  Some details have been slightly exaggerated, but I did inadvertently swallow a bug tonight. 

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

*One at a time 15 Nov 2014

*One at a time  15 Nov 2014

People who really want to make a difference in the world usually do it, in one way or another.  And I've noticed something about people who make a difference in the world: They hold the unshakeable conviction that individuals are extremely important, that every life matters. They get excited over one smile.  They are willing to feed one stomach, educate one mind, and treat one wound.  They aren't determined to revolutionize the world all at once; they're satisfied with small changes.  Over time, though, the small changes add up.  Sometimes they even transform cities and nations, and yes, the world.

     I copied this as a reminder to me (from the foreword of a book I have been reading again: "Kisses from Katie" by Katie Davis/Beth Clark

 

What am I thankful for?

How can I do more?

-Mason

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com

7 Steps to Poverty 10 Nov 2014

7 Steps to Poverty 

10 Nov 2014

There are wealthy people in Chad, Africa. Some of them may even be wealthy by Western standards.  In Chad, I am wealthy and my family lives on less money than the average teenager makes in a year working at McDonalds in the United States.   From my perspective, I am rich because of reasons beyond money.  

I've been reading a book that describes 7 Steps to Poverty and it reminded me that I should count my blessings.

(This is from "He Walks Among Us"):

Follow me as, one at a time, I take seven things away from you.  And let yourself feel the pain of the poor.

First, I will take away your clothing.  Don't panic, I wont take them all.  You can keep the ones you are wearing.  Can you imagine wearing the same clothes every single day? You can wash them each night but even this small takeaway is humiliating.

Next, I will take away electricity and power.  Imagine going home to a dark house each night.  None of your appliances work: you cant use your refrigerator, telephone, heater, air conditioner, dishwasher, television, computer or stove. Your showers are cold, and now you have to wash your clothes by hand.  Inconvenient is an understatement. 

Takeaway number 3 is really tough.  Im taking away your clean water.  None of your faucets toilets, or showers work, and your only water source is a stagnant water hole about a mile away.  You must walk hours each day to fetch the water your family needs, and because it is teeming with bacteria, you and your children are constantly sick.   Making this situation even harder is the fact that none of your neighbors have been affected, and they don't even seem to notice your suffering.  

Im afraid now I have to take away your home, so you have to live in a 10 x 20 ft mud hut with a dirt floor and no beds, and little furniture.  Your whole family sleeps in the same room on the floor.

Takeaway #5 is devastating: food.  Long ago your children lost their smiles.  Now they are so hungry that the gnawing pain wont go away.  You have to find what little food you can by picking through your neighbors' garbage.  Already sick from drinking dirty water, your children become malnourished, and their bodies cant fight off diseases.  Your 4-year-old daughter seems to be slipping away.  

Getting her to the doctor is urgent but, tragically, the 6th takeaway is healthcare.  To your horror and disbelief, there is no doctor and you have no option except to watch powerlessly as your daughter, wracked with parasites and diarrhea, dies before your very eyes.  How can this be happening?

So what else could I possibly take away? Takeaway #7 is hope.  Your hope has died in the ashes of your poverty.  And you wonder why no one else has stepped in to help you.  

Do these 7 takeaways make you feel compelled to do something about hardships that billions of people endure each day?

If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in him?    1 John 3:17

-Mason

whyweshouldgo.blogspot.com