This morning on the Pediatric Ward I was blessed to joyfully discharge a large number of my patients, including this giggly little guy (pictured above). When his mother looked at this picture of her sweet boy between me and the Jesus mural she declared Jesus has worked in me to care for her son. Praise the Lord! This moment was captured just minutes before I grieved signing a death certificate for an infant that just yesterday occupied the next bed. What a roller coaster of emotions!
Welcome to every day at Kudjip Hospital - no matter how many wins we enjoy, the crushing losses are a daily reminder of the fragility of life and our proximity to eternity. Just last week after I celebrated the recovery of our paralyzed spinal TB boy being discharged home (pictured below taking steps!), I later diagnosed two terminal cancers (liver and pancreatic) in the Outpatient Clinic. These two men were not much older than myself and they won’t live to see the end of this year. Being on call that day I also coded a young man dying on B Ward. I was so thankful to have my missionary brother Dr Mark Crouch on hand to guide the resuscitation efforts, but the patient died a short time later.
I am no longer surprised with these terminal cases, as common as they are here, but explaining to the patient and family members that we have no medical or surgical options to help them is brutal. I am striving every day to avoid becoming comfortable or complacent with the loss of life. This numbing is a common defense mechanism for someone frequently witnessing trauma/death, which I fear might rob me of the appropriate heartbreak that should accompany every life lost. (I am reminded of Jesus own grief in John 11:32-35 when his dear friend Lazarus died.)
When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw Him, she fell at His feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” He asked. “Come and see, Lord,” they replied. Jesus wept.
THANK YOU so much for praying for these cases and for all of us here doing our very best to help and heal in Jesus’ Name. There are too many cases and stories to share them all, but I have sought to capture a few examples below which I hope will continue to inspire your prayer support.
I pulled this boy from the Doctor’s Line in OPD last week and took him to the ER for a sedated I&D of his neck ABSCESS. With a lot of pus drained and a night of IV antibiotics on the Peds Ward he looked like a million bucks the next day. Here at Kudjip we daily see many cases of various infections which we can attribute to poor living conditions - sleeping on the ground, drinking dirty water, and having limited hygiene options.
This sweet lady with long-standing ovarian CANCER came back to the hospital for another drainage (paracentesis) of excess abdominal fluid (ascites). The cancer is sadly inoperable and the tumor burden has become quite large, but it’s the build up of ascites which currently causes more pressure on her lungs and GI tract. I was more than happy to help drain the fluid, and as she is a believer we had a wonderful chat about how she can use her remaining time to share the Gospel. I often share Philippians 4:4-7 in these situations, encouraging the believer to rejoice and receive amazing peace in the midst of their trial.
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
I have already diagnosed at least ten cases of TUBERCULOSIS since returning to Kudjip. Along with HIV, Syphilis, and Malaria, TB is endemic in PNG, and we frequently check all these tests for very sick patients as they can present with similar symptoms. This particular young man had the wasted appearance that immediately made me think of TB, and his chest x-ray confirmed the Pulmonary TB diagnosis. As we have excellent medications for TB, I am always thankful to share this diagnosis and reassure them they do not have cancer.
I had time the other day to visit our Supply Warehouse and dig through donated BREAST PUMPS. We had a young mother and baby on A Ward with some breastfeeding/latching issues and I was hoping a manual breast pump might be the solution for this malnourished baby. After finding a couple pump options I worked with the mother and nurses to train on using the manual pump and we are praying this will ensure the baby is well fed at home.
This little guy is a classic case of MALNUTRITION in Papua New Guinea. Once toddlers are no longer getting breastfed, it’s pricey for subsistence farmers to obtain protein foods, so the toddlers waste away on garden foods, flour balls, and soft drinks, until the family finally brings them to the hospital because of a terrible diarrheal illness or pneumonia. We have a wonderful protocol for getting these kids nourished and most can be discharged home within a couple weeks. But, it’s not uncommon the more severe cases die during their hospital admission and it’s extremely common that many are re-admitted at a later date with recurrence of the same malnutrition/illness as nothing has changed at home. One of my hopes during this trip is to reduce readmissions by improving the handoff of discharged children to our PHS (outpatient primary care team) for optimal education, supplies, and follow-up. Please pray for this endeavor.
Sunday night, 2:15AM, the house phone rings. I am on call and it’s the ER nurse asking me something… I shake the sleep from my brain and ask her in Tok Pisin to say it again. She sounds worried and asks me to come see a man with a machete chop through his shoulder. My first thought is to ask her more questions - how deep? how much blood? are his vitals stable? Then the idea crosses my mind that I could ask them to instead call the surgeon on call - surely they would be better at managing this kind of trauma?! My third thought, sharing the same split second as the first two, was “No, I’m here to help and if I can manage this chop, then I should.” So I simply replied, “OK, I am coming.”
I change quickly into the work clothes I’d left near the front door, grab my medical bag, and briskly walk the quarter of a mile across Station to the emergency room. The walk is well lit by street lights but entirely deserted at this late hour. In contrast I find the ER fairly occupied, more than half the beds full of patients getting IV fluids or other treatments and a few staff wearily enduring their night shift. A well muscled man is lying very still on one of the trauma beds, blood pooling on the plastic sheet under him. Donning latex gloves I make my way through a small group of worried folks beside him and carefully lift a large dressing from his Left shoulder. The machete chop is long and deep, but his collar bone and shoulder blade had deflected the machete from damaging any major blood vessels or penetrating his lung. He’s awake enough to relay some discomfort with my finger probing the depth of his wound. I then touch around his shoulder and arm in different places and he affirms he still has feeling in each place. He also moves his arm/hand muscles well enough to reassure me none of his major nerves have been severed.
His vitals are stable and the staff have already started IV fluids. It’s decision time and an insecure impulse interrupts the moment to suggest I wake up the surgeon on call to come help …then just as quickly I repel the thought knowing I can manage well enough given the patient’s stable state. I’ll just close the wound sufficiently for surgery to later do a proper job in the OR. I ask the nurses to set up the Lac Tray and thank the Lord I remembered to pack a bright head lamp in my medical bag. Because the wound is so deep I ask for absorbable suture to pull the tissue together, but they only have one available and it has a tiny needle...oof…this will be challenging. Settling my heart with a Jesus-peace that surpasses circumstance I get to work swabbing the wound with iodine and discover a “bleeder” after removing a large blood clot. The small vessel pumps enough blood that it pools in the space making it hard to find. A couple blood-soaked pads later, I’ve got a hemostat clamping the vessel and the large ragged wound swabbed clean of all clots and debris.
Again exploring the wound’s depths, as long as my pointer finger in some places, I decide a little analgesia would be a kindness to the patient and practical for me as I’ll need him to hold still. The closest nurse stops her work to help inject a dose of Ketamine and Valium into the man’s IV line, and I set to work injecting Lidocaine all around the edges of the wound near the skin. After tying off the bleeding vessel I realize the wound is gaping too far apart for me to easily pull the tissue together and ask one of his family members to help elevate his arm. The next 30 minutes is back breaking work bending over the wound using that tiny suture needle to pull together big bites of tissue and close the deeper spaces. I place a couple drains as well to assist with drainage and reduce the risk of infection. Switching out to a strong braided nylon suture with a blessedly long needle I then tackle closing the top inch of tissue and skin with six large bites.
Brow damp and back aching, I finally straighten up and view the finished job with thanksgiving. I am thankful this wasn’t the first big chop I’ve sutured at Kudjip over the years, and thankful I didn’t have any major bleeders to contend with, and thankful for the peace knowing a very experienced surgeon would be coming behind me another day to redo most of my suturing work, and thankful the Lord inspired me to tackle this job and save someone else a couple hours sleep in the middle of the night. A little while later I am refreshed by a cool night breeze on the walk home and I reflect on a dozen ways the job might have been done better given other circumstances. But then the soul-lifting feeling of thankfulness remains - to be the hands of healing and help is a rich blessing indeed, even (and maybe especially) when things aren’t perfect.
I have a tattoo on my left forearm of a Cross adjacent to the map of Papua New Guinea. When I am far from here it is a reminder to pray for my Kudjip missionary family, for the hospital staff and patients, and for the country of PNG. As I’m sure you can expect many people here have noticed this tattoo and find it very endearing. I tell them they are always in my heart, even when I am not with them. But for now, I am thanking JESUS for this precious time to serve in PNG. And thank you again, so many of you, who have supported our trips to be here.
ALL our Love and Thanks,
Ted, Rachel, Penniella and Solomon