Surgery and Suffering

Contrary to rumors that have circulated, I am not dead. Although there have been a few times in the last few weeks when that would have been an appealing option.

As I shared in my last blog (sometime around the turn of the millennium) I was facing surgery for a hernia that I had been struggling with for some time. As it worsened, I reached a point at which it needed to be addressed, so I went in for surgery on March 14.

Since I moved to Guatemala, I have had lots of experiences with doctors and hospitals, but this was my first one from the patient’s side of things. Understand, I had my work done my a private doctor in a private hospital, so my experience was far better than the typical Guatemalan’s hospital stay. Yet it was almost humorous from an North American perspective.

I checked in at the hospital, signed a few forms and put on a ridiculously small hospital gown with backside air conditioning. Then the fun began when a nurse came in to insert my IV. I am not squeamish about needles and pokes, but I admit that I think she was trying to get the IV line from my hand all the way to my heart. I have had concussions that hurt less. Then, after she left, I noticed that blood was dripping from the insertion point, down my hand and onto the sheets. So, at that point, I made a horrible mistake…I called the nurse. She came in and looked at the bleeding, yanked vigorously on the line (while I squirmed in pain) and then pronounced, “That’s normal.” And she was gone again.

I was scheduled to be put under for my surgery, and was surprised when they took me back to the operating room and prepped me for a spinal block. I found out later that the anesthesiologist who was scheduled did not show up, so they sedated me and did the spinal block instead. So, I was awake but drugged the entire time.

Despite all of that, the surgery went well and I returned home the next day, sore but ready for a couple of days rest and returning to work. However, on Monday my fever went up, the pain increased and my incision began to drain…a lot. Our doctor checked me and said I had an infection, so he started my on antibiotics. But over the next couple of days, I did not improve, so we began a series of antibiotic injections.

At some point during this period I had a conversation with the doctor. (The fever and the pain make everything a blur.) He told me that it was rare for these kinds of infections to develop because they take so many precautions. “For example, we don’t have surgical masks to wear for surgeries, so we try not to talk while we are operating. This minimizes the spray for our mouths that could cause infection.” After hearing that, I was shocked that infection could have occurred under such strict precautions.

After a few days of struggle with pain and continued fever, it was decided that they needed to reopen part of the incision to allow for drainage. So the doctor did it. In my home. Without anesthesia.

Have you ever seen the movie Braveheart? You remember the scene near the end of the movie in which William Wallace is stretched out and being tortured by being slowly cut open? That is what I envisioned as I lay there with the scalpel slowly cutting. Meanwhile, the doctor kept saying, “Breathe normally!” At that point, I thought about grabbing the scalpel, stabbing him in the stomach and telling him to “Breathe normally!”

So, nearly three weeks after surgery, here is where I stand in my recovery: 1) Two different doctors have told me there is no more infection. 2) I am still struggling with significant pain surrounding the incision. 3) The wound continues to drain. 4)I have resumed my normal schedule and am, once again, visiting families. (I will write more about these visits in my next blog.)

As difficult as this ordeal has been, I still realized how blessed I am. Most Guatemalans who need a similar surgery will spend hours waiting at the national hospital to see a doctor. (The picture here is of a waiting room at a national hospital.) Because of a lack of government funding, many of these hospitals are telling people they need to go buy their own supplies and bring them to the hospital. (The family of one young girl who recently needed an appendectomy had to go out and buy a scalpel, forceps, sutures and gauze before the hospital would do the surgery.) Most of these hospitals do not even have basics such as Tylenol or amoxicillin. Then, if the patient develops complications like mine, they would return to the hospital and wait many hours again to be seen, only to be sent away without a real exam and with often inept medical treatment.

Just to make it clear, I often joke in this blog and exaggerate for humor sake. (I realize my minor surgical procedure and accompanying pain was nothing compared to what William Wallace endured.) However, I am not exaggerating about the state of the Guatemalan healthcare system. It is in shambles, and people are suffering and dying as a result.

Please pray for the people of Guatemala. And pray against the corruption that assures the politicians receive pay raises and kick-backs, but prevents the hospitals from having basic supplies. Pray for the missionaries who are working hard to fill the enormous gap and catch the people who are falling through. And, while you are at it, maybe you could pray that Jesus will return soon and put an end to all this suffering.

Speaking of suffering, please pray for the family of Sandra. On Friday, this 31 year old mother of two boys was gunned down in the street in the town of Pastores. At first it seemed like a random shooting, but as more information came out, we discovered that it was not random at all. The shooter was a drug dealer who was angry at her because she refused to sell drugs for him. One of my faithful ministry partners, Manuel, had been working with Sandra to help her recover from alcoholism. She had been alcohol free for two months at the time of her killing, and, with the help of Jesus, had cleaned up her life. She leaves behind a grieving family, including two sons, ages 9 and 21, and a mother (pictured here and named Carmen) with whom she lived. We visited them yesterday and were told that the sons are not sleeping at night. They keep hearing their mother’s voice and run out of their room to look for her.

In addition, please pray little Elizabeth. Last week we received a call from the courts in Guatemala City asking us to take this 10 day old little girl with hydrocephalus. We did not have the space or personnel, so we said no. (This is the most difficult and painful part of our work.)  But we also gave them the number for two homes that are run by friends. Knowing her significant medical needs, we wanted her to end up in a place where she would received the treatment she needed quickly. She ended up going to Village of Hope, which is run by our friends, Todd and Amy Block. They have a great ministry and immediately began getting her the medical care she needed, including shunt surgery. We were able to connect them with our neurosurgeon, and Elizabeth had the surgery on Saturday and is now recovering.

The doctor has told them that she only has a small portion of her brain. As a result, they are saying that she will likely only have reflex responses and never talk or interact with the world around her. However, we all know the power of God and the impact of a loving family, which she has at Village of Hope. I have seen similar prognosis that have been blown away. Some of those children are now walking, talking and singing. Please join me in praying for a miracle for Elizabeth. And please pray for the Blocks and the wonderful staff at Village of Hope as they care for her.

That is all for now! Blessings from Guatemala!

Daryl, Wanda and the Crew