You want long nail short nail?

Again I am behind on my blogging. I was going to try to blame it on my illness again but I don’t think I can pull that off a second time. Mainly I haven’t kept up blogging because the end of this week was an emotional roller coaster and it’s taken me some time to digest all the events so that I can write them all down. Thursday morning I was going about the little routine I’ve established at the Haven when Caroline came up to me with Alfred in her arms. She had been working with him in the feeding group when she realized how labored his breathing was. After consulting with Dr.Weaver and the Aunties the decision was made to load up Alfred, Auntie Beatrice, Dr.Weaver and I to head up the road to the clinic. The nurse looked him over then decided that he needed oxygen, and the tanks at the clinic were both empty so Dr.Weaver and I take off back to the Haven to get the machine from Haven 3. We get back to the clinic with it and we’ve left the electrical converter box at the Haven. So I stay with Beatrice while Dr.Weaver makes another trip to get the converter. All in all it took 9 trips total to get the machine and all its parts in working order. Very frustrating since this entire time little Alfred is struggling to get a breath. The doctor and nurse got him all hooked up to the oxygen finally and some meds in him to treat what was beginning to look like pneumonia. Later in the afternoon we went back to check on Beatrice and Alfred. He was resting but still having a hard time getting the really good breathe that he so desperately needed. Now I realize that I’m in Zambia, Africa and that it is quite rural out here on the mission but never have I been so frustrated with medical care in my life. I know that they are doing the very best they can with what they have but the resources are just so very limited here. It was very painful to watch such a small little life struggling so hard against something that would seem almost trivial to us in the States.
Friday morning was more of the same routine with the babies and Aunties at the Haven. Lots of diaper folding and baby rocking is always in order and I’m happy to oblige on both counts. The “Lost Boys” were bundled up like Eskimos because since it’s “winter” (the high is probably 70 to 75 and lows at night around 50s) a jacket and hat is a requirement for little ones! Ha! So funny to see them all bundled up and us running around in our short sleeve shirts seems like we should all be freezing. (I usually peel a few layers off of them to find sweat underneath their parkas! Haha!) After lunch while the other girls were doing some language stimulation I went from room to room with the nail clippers and trimmed all the babies’ finger nails. Some of them were sporting the nails that become quite painful to anyone in their path during “recess” in the common room. These kiddos sit so still while you trim their nails! It’s amazing; Nita even stuck her left hand out so I could trim those nails once I finished with her right hand. Prissy little thing that Nita is!
Saturday we decided to hit the road early and go into Choma for a little shopping but before we left the mission we stopped at the clinic to check on Alfred. I hopped out of Khaki Jackie and headed to his room…no one was in his room…I headed back to the main office and ran into the doctor. I told him we had stopped to check on baby Alfred and with sad eyes the doctor said I’m so sorry but he has died early this morning. Friday night the electricity had been off for a few hours so they had taken him back to the Haven to use the generator for his oxygen but early that morning he had taken a turn for the worse and there was nothing more that could be done for his little body. I reported back to the group the sad news. We ran into Mrs.Merritt on the road and she said that Alfred’s remaining family was at the funeral for his mother but that she would let us know if they decided to bury Alfred at the Haven instead of in town at the cemetery. The family decided they would take care of the body and I think I am thankful to them for that because I was not looking forward to attending the burial of yet another little one. I know that Kelly and Alfred are no longer suffering and are in the loving and comforting arms of Jesus but saying goodbye here sure is hard. I will never forget the sweet little baby boy who had hair that looked like duckling feathers.