Another thing I never thought I'd see

Hannah (one of three Hannah's aboard!) has been so helpful this past week since we met. After a tearful evening last night when Peleke and I hung up, she urged me to head to the HC with her today to see some of the kids. It sounds like there are some here from Liberia for cardiac diagnostics. Walking in our little corner of town, I was again overwhelmed by the smell and noise. And the JimmyJohns may yet run me over!

There were only a handful of kids at the HC (and most of them shy), but we did manage to interact with two of them. One was all smiles and kicking the ball around with Hannah. He wore the footwear of children the world over- Crocs. He was such a ham, trying to get into all the pictures. We happily obliged.

I found this little guy sitting quietly on the bench playing with his toes. As I sat watching him before coming over, I noticed some things. JVD. Ascities. Jaundice. Supracostal retractions. Nasal flaring. He was too quiet for a toddler. I wanted to run all the way back to Seattle with him. I wanted to thrust him into the arms of my PICU back home demanding, "fix him!" Without the aide of diagnostics, I'm still pretty sure he would be ventilated, on a transplant list, and given an array of medications and nutrition.

But instead, I did what we're here for. His mama took a break. I gathered him in my arms, his big belly between us and his fuzzy head under my chin. I felt his frail chest working hard against mine. We watched Hannah play soccer with her new friend. I watched his eyes open and close as he fought sleep, his impossibly curly eyelashes bobbing up and down. I felt his thin little arm snake around behind me, grabbing my t-shirt. We stood there swaying quietly, cuddling in the grey morning.

When he had to go to the bathroom, we took a group trip to the toilet. On his spindly little legs he stood up (and judging by the results, his aim is much better than most men- or so the public toilet seats would lead you to believe). He leaned back, trying to balance with his big belly trying to pitch him forward. Finished, we went outside again to watch the morning pass too quickly. He perked up for a little bit- I even got a few giggles out of him. It broke my heart.

So while I feel a little discouraged by what we can't do here in the way of medical interventions, I'm going to work this evening with a better appreciation for the things we can do.