I felt like making a face like this also when I saw the bag of opium on the floor and when the man tried to take my syringe used to inject Lidocaine into his wound.
KryCo village is a remote, poor village. It is the village farthest away from BYT that we travel to see. We had just treated 33 patients there on the small porch of a dirty hut. Weary from the trip in, the heat, and from struggling with supplies, and proper understanding and treatment of each patient, I climbed onto the back of our motorcycle looking forward to the breeze which would cool us as we drove home. The way out of the village is quite steep. Halfway up the steepest part we were flagged down by some people living in the last hut. We want to cringe and groan inside our hearts because:
1. We do not want to stop on a steep hill.
2. All our medical bags are packed neatly and bungee corded onto the bike. And,
3. Why hadn’t these people come to the house where we were treating people for the last 2 hours? . . . But we stopped and untied our bags.
I entered the small crooked bamboo hut carefully. There was no ladder in, so I “gracefully” pulled myself up inside. These people were from another village. We had not seen them here before. The woman, WahTha, was lying on a mat, feverish and hardly able to walk. Her history is one I do not like to hear because I do not understand it! She said her blood is all messed up and running up and down inside her body. When it gets to her head she cannot walk and sometimes passes out. The blood rushes back and forth inside her making a whirring sound. Now how do you treat that? She was obviously sick though. I took her vital signs and treated her as best I could with what I had and determined to come back and follow up with her. As we repacked our bags and prepared to jump out the side of the house, a man, DooCher, 56 years old, shows us a horrid infection on his right forearm that he had had for one week. I had him take off his jacket so I could see his entire arm. My heart ached inside my chest as I saw the all too familiar needle track marks up his arm -another opium addict. His infection was probably caused by a dirty needle. Numbing medicine really won’t help this, but I do it anyway to help the man understand that I do not want to hurt him, but must remove the puss. Blet Jaw captured the moment by taking this picture of DooCher’s face as the puss was removed. I want to make a face like this also as I see a bag of opium on the floor and the man tries to take my syringe and needle that I had used to numb his arm.
We prayed with these people before we left and tried to tell these dear ones something about the lovely Jesus and His power to save.
I pray again now: “Oh dear Lord, I pray that your death on the cross and the way You were lifted up from the earth, will draw ALL men unto You, even DooCher – Please Lord set this captive free!”