Hospitals

It’s funny… I kind of expected that, after going to Cajamarca a few weeks ago, I’d have a pretty normal life here in Trujillo for a month, return to Cajamarca for the medical campaign the week of July 4^th, and then finish out my time in Trujillo. Funny how things change.

The last few weeks have certainly not been calm, and I’m thankful to have a chance now to just sit still in the apartment (actually, it’s not even my apartment – staying with another nurse from the mission since the other interns left). But I’ve spent the better part of the past three weeks with one of our patients in and out of the hospital. He’s an 82-year-old man named don José, and we’ve been trying to get him an endoscopic surgery to remove nasal and sinus polyps since December. So, after lots of appointments, delays, and endless lines and paperwork relating to his government insurance (which, in spite of everything, thankfully covers just about everything), he finally had that surgery about two weeks ago. After a night in the hospital, he went home…which is actually a room in the church, since he has extremely limited resources, no family, and a few months ago could no longer live with the family he’d been with.

Patients waiting to make an appointment with the government insurance.

Lots of waiting...

But a week after his surgery, he started having some pretty severe stomach issues (won’t go into detail) that left him so dehydrated and week that he couldn’t even stand up. So, to make a long story short, we took him to the hospital and he spent the next 8 days there to get rid of his stomach infection, recover fluids, and get his distressed kidneys working right again. Like I said, the insurance helps a ton, but in the government hospital it’s pretty imperative to have somebody with you because if the doctor prescribes a medicine or test, you have to go pay (or get it approved by the insurance) and then pick it up yourself. Perhaps one of the understaffed personnel could take care of it later, but the medicine would probably be delayed way too long, or the tests might go undone. So, rotating with a few ladies from the church and a couple of clinic staff, I was in the hospital with him for a good part of the last week and a half.

Pretty crazy there for awhile. But I learned a lot, saw a lot, thought a lot, and got to know (at least by recognition) several people who worked there. Of course there are all types, but the majority – at least on his floor – were very good to us. And when he began to recover appetite and strength enough to be more talkative, it was really cool to get to know don José better. This little man – who was born in Cajamarca, only went to school through 3^rd grade, has educated himself through enviable curiosity and reading, lived in Lima during his young adult years, was in the army for two years, ran the 100 and 400 m, likes soccer and basketball, was in love once better never got married, had everything stolen from him 40 years ago, moved to Trujillo, grew old without family, sells candies in the big Hermalinda market, and became a member of the Wichanzao church a month ago – has been through a lot. And, despite the nature of the circumstances, it was cool to get to hear some of it.

Don Jose in his hospital room.

Thankfully, don José went home Thursday. He seems so much better, and we’re praying that he keeps recovering his strength and can return to the rhythm he had before. But even so, the truth is that he’s getting older and living alone in the church probably isn’t a viable long-term solution. I was thankful to get to care for him over the last few weeks, but there’s always a little doubt of “How much is okay?” Because the truth is, I’m leaving in a month, and the economic and family situations of many of the church members don’t give them much leeway to dedicate the care he needs. But, I also think that I/we haven’t done more for him than we would for an elderly family member, and I don’t think he should be denied the same attention just for being poor and without a family. But the next decision will be how to best care for him in the future. I probably won’t be part of that decision, but I’m praying for wisdom for those that are and that God will open up the right options.

Paces and Peace

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the pace and rhythm of life. I think it’s always changing, but there are some things that always seem to crop back up. Goodbyes, for example. A year ago, I was saying goodbye to the places and people that defined my college experience. In these last few weeks, I’ve said goodbye to the other six interns I’ve worked with for the past ten months. I guess when you live, work, and learn together in such tight community (especially in a different country and culture), you get pretty close. The group was very special to me, and I’m thankful we’ll always have this bond. But things will look a lot different now that they’re gone. Besides missing their friendship and doing life together, I’m living in a different place, and I don’t have the schedule of two weekly intern studies or teaching SALI English classes anymore.

But, despite missing the companionship of my compatriots, I’m looking forward now to the different pace of this last phase of my time in Peru. The pace of the month leading up to their departure was frenzied, to say the least. Practically, people were finishing up SALI classes, packing their belongings, and saying difficult goodbyes to their friends and lives they’ve made here. Emotionally, all of that is combined with processing what

this past year has meant, how it has impacted them, the struggles, joys and lessons they have experienced, how God has worked in their lives. In a way, I went through part of that process with my friends – at least in a supportive, observant way. But I know my turn’s coming soon and, although I definitely don’t want to get ahead of myself, I think their goodbye process started my reflection wheels turning. Which, considering that I get to spread that process over the next couple of months, is a good thing, I think.

But I was pretty worn out by the time they all left, so I was thankful for another change of pace: I spent last week in the mountain city of Cajamarca, helping a couple there with some ideas for conversational English classes they’re starting at the church. I hope some of my presence was helpful, but I also just appreciated the chance to learn from their relaxed way of doing life and to enjoy being out of the city-pace of Trujillo. Seeing the room where the Spanish conquistadors held the Inca king Atahualpa hostage was a wonder. Going for a run in the dairy fields outside Cajamarca was refreshing. Visiting a few of the mountain churches gave me a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively as I saw the distinctive, difficult, and beautiful reality of the culture and congregations in towns like Huacraruco, Manzana Mayo, and Quinoapata.

Whether it’s guiding a horse in a circle for four hours making a brick mixture, selling vegetables and fresh cheese in the market, or working in the clinic in Wichanzao, I guess we all have our own pace. Maybe God gives part of it to us, depending on our personality. Maybe sometimes it changes, depending on our circumstances. Maybe we should always be aware of it, running hard enough to make the most of every opportunity but slowing down enough to relish relationships, take in the scenery, and take care of ourselves. I’m pretty sure I’ll be trying to find that balance my whole life. But I’m thankful for the chance to try, and for people who inspire me to run hard and those that show me how to slow down. I think God gives us peace somewhere in the middle, when we run for Him but aren’t striving to be enough on our own…when we’re close to the pace He’s made us for.