Mission Stories

11/30/02

I knew the child was very ill when I came down to the water’s edge.  Gilbert had been standing outside church giving Abigail some fresh air when he gestured for me that I had a patient.  I walked down the long wooden dock of the church and saw a family of 7 waiting in their boat for me.  The mother sat underneath a large red umbrella and cradled a very small infant.  “That baby got sick last night” said one of the older girls.  I had to hop across a few boats to get to theirs as the tide was down and boats were stuck in the thick mud.  I stepped into the old boat and wondered if my added weight might sink us all as the leaks were plenty.  Looking at the child I knew it had been sick for more than 24 hours but I asked my usual health screening questions anyhow.  The older girl did most of the talking and the mother would agree or answer with very few words.  They said the family had traveled up on the passenger boat from New Amsterdam yesterday and had “caught cold” during the night.  They were here for a local’s wedding and would return to town in one week.  The baby had a fever, cough, “spit up” (vomiting), “her belly was griping off” (diarrhea), as well as “these sores came up on her skin”.  I thought the baby was a newborn because she was so tiny and her little body was swimming in a traditional pink and white frilly dress.  We paddled across to the clinic so I could assess her more adequately.  I observed the child as we glided across the water fighting the quick tide.  She had a horrible, mucus sounding cough that shook her tiny frame.  Her eyes were lifeless and dull.  I was growing more concerned for this baby by the minute. 
We went into the exam room and I asked the age of the infant.  “She is two months old” I was told.  Two months!  That is impossible I said.  I asked to weigh the baby and to my shock she only weighed 6 pounds.  My mind flashed to my own Abigail at two months as a chubby, happy little girl.  And now I looked at this emaciated baby.  The mother wouldn’t breastfeed the baby and she said she fed her powdered milk.  She had received no vaccinations to date because the mom hadn’t had time to take her to a clinic.  This being her 9th child, I suppose time could be an issue.  The mother did not even know she was pregnant until her seventh month.  I wondered if she even wanted the child.  The baby’s skin was covered in festering sores.  Her hair was matted with pus from oozing abscesses I presumed.  She cried but no tears came and her skin was dry and shriveled from dehydration and malnutrition.  Her lungs sounded full of gunk and fluid, as well as a temperature of 101.0 raged through her body.  Her eyes were crusted from drainage and it made me sick to my stomach to behold her.  I wanted to snatch her from her mother’s arms to bathe her and feed her and to give her love. 
I insisted that the mother take this child back to town immediately and go to the hospital.  She said she would think about it.  I gave written instructions on how to make rehydration drink and I gave medicine for fever, vomiting, as well as an antibiotic.  As urgently as I could I told the mother that her child was not getting enough nutrition and needed help.  Her little body couldn’t fight off infections.  I told her a boat was passing in the morning and I wanted her to go.  I told them how to find me if the baby got worse during the night and would not drink the solution.  I feared trying to find a vein in that poor child’s hand if I needed to start an IV.
            As I was writing out a referral letter for the mother to take I needed the baby’s name.  The mom said “her name is Theresa”.  When I asked her how to spell it she replied that she didn’t know and I could spell it how I knew best.  She also had no idea of baby Theresa’s birthday, just that it was some time in September.  I sent a prayer up for this child of God.  I know His heart must ache for all the baby Theresa’s of the world, the neglected children who deserve a better chance at life.  I also prayed that God would give me the strength to carry on His work here touching the lives of so many people.