a little good news

So, we returned this week to WVU for the results of Jennifer's battery of neuro-pyschologic tests which she did last week. The first thing our PsyD said (the one who scores and interprets all the tests) was "Let me put you at ease - this is all pretty good news."

As Jennifer and I have debriefed this visit with a few people, Jennifer likes to say, "Scott heard the good news - and I heard the bad news."

So, yes, there are some areas where Jennifer struggled a bit. Dexterity with her right hand - due to injury in the parietal region of her brain. Her short term memory is not what is was. She said, "Yes, there are mild residual cognitive deficits which is very much in line with the nature of the traumatic bleeding..."

But the vast majority of the results were stellar.  

"Your have great spatial skills - perfect." 

"Verbal: your ability to find your words and get them out perfectly fine."

"Your reasoning skills are absolutely superb."

"Your ability to focus amid distraction - really really good." 

"You have good insight."

"You are only four months out and we know you will continue to get better over time."

Bottom line - she has demonstrated a fantastic level of recovery. This evaluation has given us confidence that she is functioning at a level that allows her to safely re-engage with her work as a pediatrician and as a manager of people in our mission. 

Thanks to all of you who have prayed for her.

At this point, she has been given a green light to think about returning to Uganda this spring. We have begun to think through the possibilities and considerations. We hope to correspond with a travel agent soon. There are many things to think about. And, of course, we are thinking of all the people we haven't seen since her injury. Omicron has made it so difficult for us to see people. It's distressing, but we feel like it has been the responsible thing to do.

Prayer request: wisdom as we consider the timing of our return to Uganda, discernment about what our work schedule will look like as we seek to balance responsibilities leading the Uganda Team, our Africa Area (ten teams!), and clinical work in the hospital.  We do NOT intend to have Jennifer resume her work life as it looked pre-September-6th! The hospital work is the place that will be the slowest ramp up.

So, prayer warriors unite! We need a lot of prayer. Bundibugyo is a tough place to live with a lot of needy people and problems. We've been living lives of relative comfort and few demands. No one is knocking on our door with severe medical problems. There are no buses which are hooting their horns beginning at 4:45am. There are no mosques blaring their calls to prayer while it is still dark. But we do desire to get back in the saddle and re-engage with our life in Uganda. We know it will not be easy--but it is that unique place where we find an intersection between our hearts and the needs of a broken world.

Stay tuned

 January has been full of challenges.

We discovered that our furnace here at our farm in WVa died during trip away. Thankfully, our wood stove and firewood stockpile allowed us to survive until a new furnace could be installed--but not before the pvc pipes in the bathroom wall froze and burst- resulting in a week without showering. But all's well that ends well.

This past week, Jennifer followed up with the neuro-ophthalmologist at WVU who gave a good report. He documented continued improvement in extra ocular movements and reduction in size of her dilated pupil. Most importantly, he definitively stated that corrective surgery for her eye muscles will not be necessary. He recommended a routine follow-up appointment in 6 months - which basically means she's doing well and nothing more to do except an occasional check-in visit. Her eye is not normal, but as the nurse helpfully stated, it's live-able. Yes. 

Friday, Jennifer endured four hours of rigorous and exhausting testing - cognitive, memory, coordination. "I'm going to read you a list of 20 words, repeat back as many as you can remember." Then 5 minutes later during another exercise - "Hey, repeat as many of those 20 words back again." Again 30 minutes later. "Here's a list of random numbers - now repeat them back to me; now repeat them back to me in reverse order; now repeat them back to me in numerical order." "Now - here are three letters: B, W, Q. Repeat them. Now serially subtract 3 from 81." In the middle of that serial subtraction exercise she taps on the desk and she must repeat the three letters. Now here are three different letters and a new number to start the serial subtraction. Go. And on and on.

Four hours of that. It will take some days for the exam to be scored and evaluated. We must return next week to receive the results and recommendation. Please pray for that visit. That she can receive the results with humility and grace.

Meanwhile, we are fully engaged with our work as Area Directors. We had a week of meetings with our Area Directors in the second week of January (Zoom). We have regular zoom call with those we supervise in Uganda, Kenya, Burundi, DRC, and Malawi. We've been helping work through some of the complicated issues with the Christ School-Bundibugyo restart. While we wait for these results--we're busy!

There and back again

 On December 7th, we embarked on a cross-country journey in our white Tacoma (affectionately known to the  family as “ShadowFax”, the trusty steed of Gandalf the Gray—that’s me) to spend Christmas with our kids and my mom (Nana). Why drive 6550 miles in winter? Well, primarily to stay “COVID-safe” in this crazy time of Omicron. We avoided airports, restaurants, and non-family human encounters as much as possible.

For many legs of this journey, we felt like hobbits trying to fulfill a quest. We began within hours of the terrible tornadoes in Kentucky. From Denver, we headed north to drive around the steepest peaks of the Rockies on I-80 West—only to find it closed—and then turned around and drove over the steep Loveland and Vail Passes, our 8 hour day turning to 15.  But we passed over and though to Salt Lake City.

We hiked, talked, and drank bottomless cups of coffee with our kids—until it was time to head west again to spend an extra week with my mom, picking her up in California and bringing her back to SLC for Christmas. But again, ShadowFax was pushed to her limits. Winds in western Utah blew over 18-wheelers. Ice and blowing snow in western Nevada caused others to jack-knife into the ditch. And a blizzard in the Donner Pass (famous for stranding early settlers in the 1840s) threatened to impede us. But, as they say in Uganda — we reached.  

Christmas in Salt Lake City was magical. Fresh snow provided gorgeous backdrops for our dog walks and skiing outings. We spent three nights on the slopes of Alta above Salt Lake City—with enough food for a month (just in case). Homemade lasagne (homemade noodles and all), our traditional Norwegian White Dinner on Christmas Eve (all the food is white), then steaks, fresh sourdough cinnamon rolls, and French cassoulet. What a celebration!

But we were nearly stranded again as a foot of fresh powder fell on the night before our departure—so we shored up the hooves of ShadowFax with chains—and galloped out beautifully.

So, many times these last three weeks, I’ve felt fearful.  Fear that we wouldn’t make it. That our precious time with our family would be cut short or lost. Fear on the top of the mountain that I might not ski to the base without injury. Fear that I might collide with another vehicle on icy roads. All legitimate fears.

In Scott Erikson’s Honest Advent, in the final chapter he posits this statement: Be Not Afraid could be a legitimate substitution for Merry Christmas. For Christmas is Immanuel—God with Us. Why should we fear?

As we enter 2022, there are so many threats looming—threats to our lives and health, threats to democracy, there threats to our goals and dreams, threats to our communities, churches and families, threats to our very planet. In Serge, every year, our Leadership Team does a SWOT analysis (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats). The strengths and weakness are internal; the opportunities and threats are external. The threats lead to fear, and the more we love that which seems threatened (i.e. connecting with kids!)  . . . the harder is to overcome them with faith and courage. 

Erickson ends with this: Today, let our fears be the starting place of divine connection…Let us not be afraid, for Love has drawn near.

Advent Resources 2021

 

What we're reading devotionally this December...

1.Our Favorite...the online Advent devotional series put out every year by Biola University.  This year they are focusing on the Christmas Canticles (you must go to the devotions to learn what that means)...it is an amazing combination of visual art, music, poetry and devotional reflection. We look forward to this every year--and here's a bonus--they have a series for Lent too!

Here's the link

https://ccca.biola.edu/advent/2021/

2. Second fav, is a book by Scott Erikson called Honest Advent.

There's a Kindle version available on Amazon HERE.

A poignant quote from one of the early devotions...

May you receive the light of divine annunciation in the flames of your best-laid plans.

3. And last, an Advent devotional from Kate Bowler (author of No Cure for Being Human)

Download from her website for free HERE.

Be that one leper

 

As Jennifer and I have entered Thanksgiving week, we have been inspired by the season to be in touch with those who helped save her life 11-plus weeks ago. We know how rare and meaningful it is to see the patient who was nearly dead, now able to walk and speak words of appreciation. So in the last week, we visited both the Emergency Medical Services crew (ambulance) and the Helicopter crew that were called to Sago Road on Labor Day. Thanks to West Virginia small town spirit and can-do, she also was connected by phone to two of the passers-by who stopped and called 911 and waited with her on the road. Without exception, each vividly remembered the day, the injury, the severity. And each expressed thankfulness to God to see her alive and nearly well. 

We listened to a Trinity Forum (ttf.org) presentation over the weekend on Gratitude and the presenter challenged us to be thankful “to” (someone) this Thanksgiving rather than our traditional habit of being thankful “for” (some thing). This Thanksgiving we have a long list of those TO WHOM we express our thanks:

-to the kind drivers who saw Jennifer lying on the road and stopped to help and didn’t run away from the blood and sorrow

-to the skilled and faithful people who were doing holiday duty and responded to the 911 call

-to our organization (Serge) that provides for us and allows us time to heal, and colleagues who stepped into the gap to take up our work

-to those who mobilised prayer and communicated love - and to those who prayed

-to all in our family who came to be with and support us

-and to God who has been our Rock and Refuge.

Gratitude in the midst of grief has been our theme this month. That is true of life every month, but our cups are especially overflowing with both this month.

Thankful for all of you who follow, read and pray. Happy Thanksgiving.  

Why We Fight

 

One of our Bundibugyo teammates wrote to Jennifer this week to help her think through a presentation she will be doing in church this week.  She asked Jennifer to articulate the vision of why we work in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (aka, The Nursery) of Bundibugyo Hospital.

This is what she wrote back…

… off the top of my head I look at NICU work as being the hands of Jesus to the most vulnerable and marginalised.  This world is broken since the Fall, so hard and wrong things happen particularly in childbirth (specifically mentioned in Genesis) to everyone, but those in the poorest places have the least capacity to withstand those struggles. In Uganda, neonatal deaths account for almost half of childhood mortality and in fact are in the top five causes of death in the whole country, all ages. Jesus came with a concrete mission to reverse the curse, to defeat evil, to bring life. He did that by the cross and resurrection, and He invited his followers to participate in the same. He modelled welcoming the “least of these” and teaching that “of such is the Kingdom of Heaven” as he gathered children.  We try to imitate Him and embody His light and salt approach by moving out to the hardest edges, walking into the places where hope is hard to find, where evil seems to be winning. In Uganda one of those places is the maternity and NICU service, a place that should be full of joy and yet too often holds not just suffering for the sick baby but the worst kind of sorrow for the whole family. By being present we show that God does not shy away from suffering, is also present, sees, notices, cares. We touch, treat, weigh, measure, listen, advocate, teach . . .PRAY . . .because God cares about these “least of these” infants, it is part of His Kingdom coming that Life gets the upper hand over Death, and it helps people see that God’s work in the world is different than the way things normally go. There is actually hope.  Most NICU stays are a week to a month, so we get lots of time with the moms.  They hear the prayers, they see the help, and they dare to hope that God is at work in saving their child. Of course many do still die, but in my experience the parents still find a lot of meaning and comfort that we enabled them to make every effort to save their loved child, and we can offer them hope of eternity together.

Jesus preached and healed, and sent his followers out to do the same. 

It is our holy privilege to do that in Bundibugyo. 

We interrupt this chronic crisis to bring you: A Birthday

 

Today we celebrate 61 years of Scott. And in honor of that I, Jennifer, who have been silent for a bit over two months, am sneaking back onto this forum while he runs an errand to invite you to celebrate with me. Because this birthday finds him (us) in an unexpected place with an unclear plan, or at least more realistically aware that every birthday finds us in places that are complicated combinations of our choices and life, and we never can plan on the next one! So today please join me in a bit of joy. 

Today's birthday has been joyful, largely due to the presence of our second-born who by God's mercy was able to walk through every step of the first two weeks of this near-death blip with us, and also to come back over this Veteran's Day long weekend. He's been a stalwart and a gem. It's also a glorious Fall day in West Virginia, for a father-son bike ride and polar-plunge river dip, for sunny rocking on the front porch with guitar-accompanied singing truth, for making food and talking. But mostly, today is joyful because it provides a frame in which to gather thankfulness for Scott. It's not the first time he's been instrumental in saving my life but definitely the time that death has come closest. I am thankful for his presence, recognition of the situation, pushing for the helicopter extraction and then sticking by me in the complicated journey of care. He's been constant through those four days on the ventilator, five in the ICU, ten in the main hospital and another week in the rehab.  Then another seven weeks of plugging along at our farm taking me to umpteen appointments, managing both of our jobs at distance alone, shopping, cooking, and on an on. I am trying to be aware of just how drastically my fall has knocked into dozens of other people's lives and plans, but no one's as hard as Scott's. So On this birthday, I am thankful for the companion God has given me (41 years of friendship, 34 years of marriage), and specifically for his capacity to pivot on this unplanned sojourn as we wait to see what it means for our lives.

Our mantra of late has been the paradox of gratefulness and grief. I'm grateful to be alive and in recovery, yet also grieving for the loss of so much of life for now. In the same way on this birthday I'm grateful for Scott's wisdom, energy, faith, commitment, kindness, care for me, capacity to stay involved in our own struggle and those of our team and Area and friends . . . but also grieving that he has to be away from a life that we spent 28 years investing in, the human beings that fill his heart, the hands-on work that brings him satisfaction. Two birthdays ago we got Bwindi in Kampala; last year we went to a Safari Lodge for a lovely treat of a time together. This year we've been boosted for COVID at Walgreens and watched the Veteran's day parade, and are treasuring the weekend with our son and chatting with the rest of the family. We are  marveling that we can be here, even making his mom's traditional carrot cake (without Ruth 61 years ago none of this story would be possible!).

After today, back to PT and zoom calls and the slog of survival, back to hoping and praying and waiting. I'm aware that my brain is not to be fully trusted (going to have this read by someone before posting) and everything takes more energy than it should. But for today, I'm glad that I'm not in this crazy situation alone, that God gave Scott 61 years and counting, and hoping it is many more. He's done a great job of recruiting prayer for me, which is definitely my lifeline. Today pray for him, to also meet God in the mess, to be filled with faith, hope, and love as we recited in our wedding vows from 1 Cor 13, to accept the new normals with grace and find good in his next year of life. And to have a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!