Basking when the light breaks through

This happened yesterday:

As did this:

Both are pictures of a glimmer of light through some dark clouds. In the first, Scott and I were talking our evening debrief walk with the dog (sanity 101) after a heavy rain, and startled by a spectacular rainbow.  In the second, I was walking back into hospital after teaching a core lecture on sepsis to our interns on Paeds, and they were in high spirits having just had a good teaching time and lunch, and suggested a photo together.  The pharmacist stopped the group and said, what's going on?  And it clicked for me:  we were having a good day because we had stopped to celebrate some victories.  In fact I had snapped photos of several milestone patients who were healing, and shared them on our patient-care what's-app group, which unexpectedly led to a totally changed atmosphere for the day.

The power of noticing the good, when mostly we are steeped in murkiness and sorrow.  This is a hospital where a baby or child dies on about half of our days (that's actually probably an underestimate).  A dear Kenyan friend who had been away in England two years took her first Kenyan call this week, and had a rough night over a critically ill child who ended up dying.  It was the first death she had had in two years of work.  Let that contrast sink in.

So somehow, by prayer or the Spirit or confluence of noticing hopeful events, yesterday we took time to celebrate.

Baby L was our first thanks.  He was admitted for two weeks, with kidney failure and crazy high sodium in his blood due to dehydration, infection, a mom without milk . . and he went home completely normal.

These two preems (unrelated) had been with us for 55 and 57 days, both 28-weeks out of 40-weeks gestations, dipping below 1 kg (2 lb) and they went home healthy and well after many struggles.  The intern who carefully monitored them really felt the sense of accomplishment.

This little girl came in so anemic and sick she was nearly dead. She turned out to have TB and some other issues, and after two weeks of anti-TB medicines she is headed out the door with a new chance at life.  Her mom turned from somber to hopeful.

The triplets:  All boys, and though one is Shadrack the other two aren't Meshack and Abednego (much to my disappointment).  The first-born as usual is the biggest, and being about 200 grams ahead of his brothers, he graduated from the incubator today!

Here are two incubators worth of babies on the bench, while their moms make their beds.  I don't think we've had less than 50 babies in the Newborn Unit any day all month.  

This preteen (face blurred) lost both parents to AIDS, and came in weighing less than the average kindergardener.  After weeks of nutritional rehab, and much advocacy, she got some more advanced treatment for her primary problem, a miracle worth celebrating.  She gained 4 kilograms and went home with her older sister who is her caretaker.

Scott explaining how to monitor labor to all the interns . . including the basic stuff by which lives are saved.

So join us in that moment when the light breaks through, when the clouds are not the only reality, when team work produces some life-saving results, when we get a view of redemption.  Bask.