Paul and Becca

Here is the crew we had for Christmas dinner.  Since the Ethiopian Christmas is not for another 2 weeks, we were able to celebrate with all of the forengies (non-Ethiopians) of the community.  From top, left to right…Dr. Asle Aarsland (anesthesiologist, from Norway, grew up in Ethiopia, lived in Galveston), Stephne Bowers (runs the orphanage, from South Africa), Dr. Harry Bowers (optomotrist), Dr. Mary Vanderkooi (runs local rural clinics), Gary Vanderkooi (helps with all of the construction on site at the hospital), me, Paul, Lydie-bug, Maria Aarsland (daughter of Asle, visitng, very sad she will be here instead of the national championship game on Jan 7th…she’s a longhorn), Kari Aarsland (wife of Asle and great joy to be around!), Dr. Ruth Droppers (internal medicine, been here for 3 years, from the Netherlands), Dr. Mogus (internal medicine doctor and fiance of Dr. Ruth, from Ethiopia and lived in Canada for a while).  Bottom, left to right:  Dr. Marco (new PAACS resident from Madagascar), Sarah Jane Aarsland (daughter of Asle, visiting med student from UTMB Galveston, here to study malaria), Sophie Ness (nurse, does rural clinics, been here for 6 months, Noah Frank (been here 2 months, here to run a local foster home, from California), Sam Hartman (been here 2 months, here to run a local foster home, from Seattle), Benjamin Bowers (12 years old, son of Harry, is teaching nathan how to play soccer), Nathan “stinker-bug” Gray (has his own camera in hand), Karmyn Bowers (13 years old, son of Harry, loves caring for Lydia).

I’ve been feeling kind of crummy the last few days and seem to have picked up some kind of bug. It’s a real delight with elements of involvement including the upper respiratory tract, chest, muscle and joints, stomach and lower GI system. Lovely! Anyway, it’s around seven thirty at night and I have no energy to do anything but lay here; so it seemed a good time to share a little on the blog. I can’t think of any overarching theme so I’ll just share some experiences and thoughts from the last week and half. Instead of lumping them all together, though, I’ll just spit out a few different posts.

We miss you all,

Paul

We’ve been following online the developments of a man I’ve mentioned before on the blog, Matt Chandler. He is the pastor of a church in the north Dallas area, Flower Mound, called the Village. I first heard about him from a friend of Becca a few months before we came to Ethiopia. I’ve listened to many of his sermons from their church website and have grown a lot under his teaching. Roughly two and a half weeks ago, he had a seizure and was found to have a brain tumor in the frontal lobe of his brain. He has since undergone surgery and is still in inpatient therapy awaiting discharge to home. I worked at Baylor with his neurosurgeon and so was pleased to know he is one of the best.

As Becca and I repeatedly check their church website for updates and a report about the pathology, I think often about Matt. I’ve only met him once… indeed I’ve only seen him once. It was during our last time in the States when Becca and I had the chance to visit their church. It was odd to finally see the person attached to the voice I had heard so often. He is only two years older than me and also has a young family, three young children. In some ways it’s hard to imagine what he’s going through, but in other ways it’s all too easy. When I imagine what it would be like to face a deadly and/or debilitating tumor at this point in my life, near the beginning of a career and with a young wife and family, it’s shocking. From a purely personal standpoint, I know that my soul is safe in Christ. I know that to leave this world is to be with Him. But I also know that it would break my heart to leave Becca and the kids without me. My heart and mind quickly go into this seesaw of contemplation, swinging from grief and pain to trust in God’s sovereignty and good purpose. My brain knows the answer but my heart has a hard time embracing it.

That seems to be the way of human grief. Mental analysis, though a necessary bedrock, is poor comfort. How wonderful it is that our Savior came and lived and endured among us to bring us home. How wonderful it is that He said, “I am the way and the truth and the life…” The most beautiful Truth in existence is a person, the one thing that brings the best comfort to pain, unlike theories and arguments.

I rejoice that Matt and I are brothers in Christ and that one day we will worship together before the King. In the meantime, I’ll pray fervently that he be fully healed and that his ministry here, both to his family and the rest of us, would continue. However it goes, though, alongside Matt I’ll trust that God is truly good and that He is working all things according to His good purpose. And we’ll trust that Christ is enough to get us all through.

Operating on little children has always made me nervous and it has been no exception here in Ethiopia. We’ve recently been faced with two babies with congenital abnormalities of the anus. (Yes, I know I talk about lots of gross and embarrassing body parts… but, hey, I’m a general surgeon. What do you expect? Just be thankful I’ve omitted the pictures.)

I operated on the first one around five months ago, a week or two after his birth. His anus had failed to form properly and he had a tiny, abnormal opening just in front of the normal location of the anus. Technically, this is called an imperforate anus with a perineal fistula. He was quite sick from the obstruction and we had to perform a colostomy to let him recover. He was now back in the hospital and ready to have his anus repaired. Not only have I never done this, I’ve never even seen it done… not in person anyway. I’ve watched a video, though. Using some advice from a pediatric surgeon with PAACS down in Kenya, we operated on the boy yesterday. By God’s grace, we were able to open him up and create an anus in the proper place. Assuming he recovers well from this, we will reverse his colostomy in a month or so.

The second child with imperforate anus came to our clinic last Friday. She was nearly six months old and this was the first time she had been taken to the doctor… truly amazing. Her anus had also failed to form but she had formed an abnormal opening into her vagina (sorry, more embarrassment). The amazing thing is she had survived six months like that and had actually gained nearly normal weight. I knew this repair would be much trickier than the previously described boy so we questioned the parents about going to Addis Ababa where there is one pediatric surgeon. It quickly became evident they could never do that. Even though she had survived six months, I didn’t think she would make it very long without a repair so I decided to give it a go. She too would need a colostomy first, followed by a definitive repair. So we got the admission process started and I assumed (big mistake) that she would be put in the hospital. I found out the next morning that they had left for home, stating they didn’t have enough money for admission. My heart breaks because we could have easily cared for her through the benevolent fund if I had known. I’m praying she will come back.

We operated on yet another one year old child today with yet another coffee bean in her airway. This one ended up being quite a bit more difficult. Through a combination of bronchoscopy (a flexible scope looking in the airway) and a tracheotomy (surgical hole in the airway), we were able to get it out but it was quite difficult. Since we have no means to actually do anything through the scope except look, we still had to perform the standard hanging-upside-down-and-pound-the-back routine to dislodge the bean but this time it slipped above our tracheotomy and got stuck there. Dr. Aarsland, our anesthesiologist, was ultimately able to shove it down to our surgical site with the scope so we could pluck it out. Cold sweat dripping down my back, I mentioned to him at the conclusion that I hate this procedure.

Last Thursday, Soddo Christian Hospital graduated its second PAACS resident, Solomon Endrias. Solomon has completed five years of training and is moving out into the world. The ceremony was held in the hospital chapel and was well attended by family and hospital workers. Complete with gowns and regalia, it was a good experience and enjoyed by all. I really enjoyed the celebration and the joy at his completion of training. He and his wife are still seeking God’s direction of where to go from here. She needs to complete some schooling in Addis Ababa and, in the meantime, Solomon will be working on his hope to start working at a rural district hospital in the area of his home.

Lydia, you have no idea how much we love you.  You are the sweetest baby we have ever met.  You smile all the time and if we glance your way you are returning a huge grin.  You giggle when we play patty cake and when we tickle your tummy.  You sleep when it is time to sleep and you play when it is time to play.

Lydia, please forgive me for not having hours of video recorded of your first 4 months.  Maybe I can make it up to you by sharing hours of conversation a few years down the road…while your brother and dad play video games together.

Of course, the lack of attention you are receiving is mostly your brother’s fault…but you also have no idea how much he loves you.  He talks about you all the time, when you are sleeping…”Ee-ah?” and when you are playing…”Ee-ah!”.  He will sit and watch you and he sings to you when you are sad.  He loves to give you kisses and hold your hand when we pray for both of you at night.

And it doesn’t even have to be said that you have stolen your daddy’s heart.  He will love and protect you for the rest of your life.

Lydia, thanks for being the sweetest thing ever, I pray one day you will know just how much we love you and that our love is nothing without God first loving us.

“We love because he first loved us.”

1 John 4:19