Concluding our Dusin Adventure

Meeting God in the Highlands

(PART 5 - Final)

I think it's safe to say that when you begin dreaming in the language you are studying, your studies are paying off well. I can't recall with whom I was arguing, or what about, but I clearly remember speaking long sentences quite fluently to make my points. Rachel, slightly irritated at the memory, tells me she heard most of it. :-)

After our morning studies, a neighborhood friend, Jeffrey, brought us some "Switfrut" to try. He demonstrated with his own fruit how to crack open the hard rind to find the sweet seeds inside. Imagine clusters of miniature grapes that closely resemble frog eggs in size and texture, each with sweet clear jelly coating a large seed. I think Rachel and I both completed the task of "enjoying" this treat out of courtesy to Jeffrey who watched with eager anticipation. With sticky sweetness on my fingers, I was then approached by a butterfly. I think anyone else would have run away, but I bravely offered my hand upon which it landed...with a body the size of my index finger, and each wing the size of my hand! I was proud to have captured such a wild beast with the mere offering of my hand, but sadly, the big fella departed before Rachel could grab the camera. 

Not the butterfly, but another terrible beast of these mountains...

During the afternoon, three men came to the door, asking to speak with me. The eldest requested medicine for a boy who had been sick. The fact that I am a Physician was supposed to be a secret while in Dusin, but the word must have gotten out somehow. I was forewarned by our Kudjip counselors, the Myers, that I wouldn't have a moment of rest and study if the local population knew I was a doctor. I had every intention of obeying this directive, but when asked directly to come see a very sick boy, I was severely torn in what to do. I told the men I didn't bring any medicine with which I might treat they boy, but they asked if I could just look at him, to see whether he needed to go to the hospital or wait further. The closest "Haus Sik" (hospital) to Dusin is across a couple mountain ranges in Singapi - about a 4 hour hike if moving quickly. As the story went, the boy became tired 3 days prior and had fever, cough, and had only slept, taking in very little water and almost no food. They denied any "sua" (wound/abscess), "traut" (vomiting), or "pekpek wara" (diarrhea). I'd seen a number, if not most of, the other children with snotty noses and cough, so a viral respiratory infection of some form seemed likely. I ultimately agreed to see the boy, and it wasn't far to go. I was led to the storage shed of the local store, and found myself crawling through a couple tiny doorways into a very dark space without evidence of a child. The man opened a window and the blinding light revealed storeroom shelves with stacks of ramen noodles, rice, sugar, salt, and there in the middle of the floor was a bundle of blankets - no movement or evidence of life. The man pulled back the blanket to reveal a small boy, maybe 3 years old, curled up next to a half-eaten pack of dry ramen noodles, looking quite withdrawn and frightened. He was hot to the touch, his heart was racing, and once moving, he had a spasmodic cough. He wasn't too dehydrated based upon a wet mouth and a few tears during my exam, and he quietly responded to a few questions from the man which I asked. He denied any pain - just felt tired and cold. I regretted not having a stethoscope with me, as I was primarily concerned for possible pneumonia, but the boy wasn't breathing overly fast, and wasn't having any difficulty breathing. Obviously, I was more than a little concerned for this boy - possibly my first patient in Papua New Guinea - but there was nothing I could do. I strongly suggested to the gathered men that they increase the amount of water he was drinking, and try to get some chicken broth into him - not just plane hard ramen. I asked them to keep me updated with his progress - if worse, then he would need to go to Singapi for fluids and antibiotics - if better, than it was likely just a viral infection that needed to run its course. Although I felt completely useless, they thanked me profusely. Later I found Pastor Thompson and gave him the full story, at which point he informed me of a cupboard of medicines in the back shed of our house, which he said are for the Dusin people - when a medical professional is present. Great, I thought, now I've got no excuse at all to avoid stepping into the Doctor role. I went and inventoried this cabinet, which contained quite a number of antimicrobials, and selected the appropriate dosing of Amoxicillin to treat the boy's likely pneumonia. The pills went into a little baggie, which I set on the kitchen counter - still undecided as to whether the boy would need the treatment. In the States, the boy would have had a plethora of blood labs drawn (including cultures), given IV fluids, received a chest X-ray, and started on an IV antibiotic in preparation for admission to the Pediatric Ward. With only oral antibiotics at my disposal, I decided to wait and watch, with a plan to see the boy first thing in the morning - if not awoken in the night for a worsening of his condition.

That evening, Pastor Thompson and Esther invited us to join them to sample their typical dinner. We followed Pastor Thompson and his youngest, Melissa, down to their house, where we were ushered in to sit on thatch mats next to the open fire. Since we had already eaten, we were a little overwhelmed with the heaping pile of vegetables we were served. They described the cooking process, and named each of the foods - taro root, kaukau (sweet potato), and cooked greens - all of which were delicious. The greens reminded me of something between spinach and asparagus, and the sweet potato was milder in flavour (which I liked) than the orange version I'm accustomed to back home. Pastor Thompson regaled us with some "story" (conversation or stories) about other foods they cook, and we did our best to share, in Tok Pidgin, a few cooking stories of our own. We didn't finish the plates in front of us, but were reassured it was OK - the five children would be happy to help us finish. 

Highland children - Beautiful and full of Joy

As we walked back up to our house, I was shocked by the night sky - clearer than I'd ever seen in my life, every star and constellation in full splendor, and the Milky Way spreading from horizon to horizon. We saw two shooting stars, a few orbiting satellites or airplanes, and the clouds coming across the Northern mountain range showed off an illuminating battery of lightening. What an honor to witness this immeasurable creation of God in all its majesty!


The following morning, I found the boy somewhere between fevers, still warm to touch and without energy, but not as tachycardic (heart racing) as yesterday. The father said he had increased the boy's fluid intake which likely accounted for his slight improvement. His cough had not changed however, so I produced from my pocket the small baggie of Amoxicillin, and explained in great detail (in my best Pidgin) the dosing/duration, how to crush the tablets into a couple ounces of warm chicken soup, and stir between sips to ensure the boy got all the medicine. I also gave the boy a small wooden cross necklace, which I had found within the medicine cabinet. It is very unlikely he will remember my presence or help, but perhaps some day, the cross round his neck will inspire a connection between compassion and our Savior. 

I am thankful for our Dusin experience, for the kindness of Pastor Thompson and his family, for all the smiles and soccer provided by the local kids, and for the opportunity to unplug amid God's untouched creation. God only knows what awaits us in this year of service at Kudjip Hospital, but my eyes and heart are wide open. 

Upon our return to Kudjip - in a TINY aircraft! :-)