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Showing posts from July, 2015

Tomorrow.

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He's lying beside me. He didn't want to sleep on his own tonight, because he's nervous. He doesn't understand everything, but he understands enough. He's clutching a teddy to his chest with a scar that resembles the one tomorrow will give him. Something to remember it by, for the rest of his life. He's four, but he's so small. And I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad. And I wonder if tomorrow will help him to grow. He seems alone, if you read his paperwork. Abandoned. But he's not. The child is adored, by everyone who meets him. He isn't going into this surgery as an orphan, far from it. His paper says something different than the cries of our hearts. As he enters that operating theatre, he takes pieces of our hearts with him. He holds pieces of our hearts, as the doctors work to put his back together. Tomorrow, C. will get open heart surgery at 8am Bolivian time. If you're in the UK that's 1pm. If you're anywhere else con

But if not...

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Back Story: I am trying my best with the medical stuff, but no promises for 100% accuracy. This is C. When C arrived to CDA he was just a newborn. When he was about 6 months they found out that he had a heart murmur, but it was likely to fix itself. Then at a check up when he was 3 they discovered that it hadn’t, and so he was diagnosed with a Ventricular Septal Defect, and heart surgery was scheduled for late June. That one fell through, and it was rescheduled for this Friday. He was admitted this morning for two days of poking and prodding before it happens. There’s a quote floating about Christian social media that always catches my eye: It comes from the book of Daniel, where Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were being threatened with being burnt to death in the furnace if they didn’t worship idols as King Nebuchadnezzar wanted them to. (Much of my memory of this story is mixed in with the Veggie Tales about

I have no witty title, it's just an update.

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 Hello and here is an update. It includes both photos and words because I am a multitasker. I have now been in Cochabamba for two weeks and it feels more like two months or maybe two years. The apartment search has begun with a trip to the most beautiful apartment ever, which was unfortunately located in a building for older people, who were worried we were going to party it up with crying babies in the middle of the night, which may or may not be a legitimate worry. So prayers for apartment search would be much appreciated. Now, onto the past week(ish) since the fun hospital stays with #sickbaby. Here is the original #sickbaby, who has been missing from photos but definitely  not  missing from my life. He is doing awesome, working out with a physio, and has a family. He should be leaving next Monday to leave with the  best  family for him, he (and they) really hit the jackpot, and I am so excited to see it - even if I will miss that little face greeting me every time I

Day 2 in the Hospital.

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Last night was less exciting. Still a lot of poo, but thankfully all contained. Had amusing conversations with the mums on the ward about who had come to look after #sickbaby during the day. It basically went, "One of them was very white (Danyelle, Texan, blonde and just slightly less pale than I am) and the other two were not white at all. (Gina and Michelle, who are Korean-Americans)" Bless them. Brought my duvet with me (no Paddington cover, their heads would have exploded...)  caused all manner of confusion as they're not really a thing here. "What is that?! What do you call it?! Did you get it here?! Can I touch it?!" In related topics, if anyone knows the Spanish for duvet, please let me know. (I believe the American for duvet is comforter, if you're confused. Thank you Big Bang Theory.) I slept through his six o'clock bottle, which the others are amazed by because about it was freezing. Despite the fact that we ha

Night Duty in the Paediatric Hospital

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So, this little guy ended up in the hospital.  This photo was taken after he did a naughty thing while getting his temperature taken, read on for the story. I took the night duty, since everyone else was doing things this morning, and I wasn't. (I missed out on ice cream to be there, so let it never be said I am not committed to the children.)  It was just filled with all sort of weird. I thought I'd fill you all in. Firstly, the taxi driver who took me to the hospital asked me to translate an Abba medley for him. H e had given me a really good price, so I obliged. (For all those interested parties, I told him I didn't know what 'voulez-vous' meant, translated Money, Money, Money and then just said, "mostly they're singing about men".) You cannot enter the wards with food. They literally checked my bag. They took a bottle of Coke and a bag of crisps to "look after". I was as shocked as you are that they were still th

#cleftpalatelife

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Baby I This afternoon, the baby who got to come to Horita Feliz was based entirely on who was awake when I went upstairs, and my determination that the rest of the room should stay asleep for as long as possible. And when I grabbed him, getting him out of the room of moody, sleepy toddlers before they woke up and chaos ensued was my only  thought. What I'm saying is, I didn't even think about the fact that he had an open cleft lip and palate. Or the fact that I was taking him to a room full of the Casa kids, who have a joint appreciation of continuous, never ending questions. Or the fact that it might attract some stares from the mothers there. Seriously, I just wanted the kids to stay asleep. For everyone's sake. --- "Tia, que es?! Porque es así?!" He must've asked me 3 or 4 times. "He was born like that, but it's okay - the doctor will sew it up soon." Then he asked again, (what did I tell you?) and I changed my answer.

a whole lot of maybes.

I'm reading a book at the minute. He's a doubter, at least that's how he comes across to me. Like he's not 100% sure of anything. So, in many ways, I think we're similar. His book is teaching me something that I've been learning for years. Something which I knew, or believed, but was too scared to admit. I don't think it's a deal breaker if we disagree on some God stuff. I'm learning this from him. I'm learning it from podcasts on the essentials and non-essentials of faith. I'm learning as I attend churches that aren’t quite like my home church. As I make friends who aren't quite like me. Who don't quite have a faith quite like mine. But at the end of the day, I'm learning it from Him. That, just because someone thinks infant baptism is the right choice, it doesn't mean their faith is invalid. Just because they don't believe God has predestined some to be saved, and some to not. Just

Goodbyes Suck.

So, less than two weeks after saying goodbye to Northern Ireland, to my parents, Dan, the dog, all the rest of you, I'm saying goodbye again. PFO, pre-field orientation. A cynic by nature I was dubious of how useful it would be. I could've stayed at home for longer - my goodbyes could've waited an extra month. PFO was just going to be going over stuff we already knew, or the really boring stuff, like all that fun orientation you do for every other job. I was so very wrong, and I am incredibly thankful. Lucky charms for breakfast, always good. What in goodness name is this? That is not  a biscuit. Why have I spent so much time in Memphis and still not seen Justin Timberlake? Baseball is rounders, and there is a reason we don't play it professionally. I thought Tesco was big, in what universe could you ever have a need for a Walmart this gigantic?! Chick-fil-A is amazing. Send it to the UK, or better yet, Bolivia. You appear to be driving on the wrong side