Picking My Battles

God is great. He seems to be revealing his grace and beauty to me more and more. I have been so aware of the magnificent sunsets, the soft human touches and the smell of good wine and good company. I seem to feel more and more blessed the longer I stay here. God also allowed me to really experience His love this month as my boyfriend of 3 and a half years proposed to me on top of my beloved water tower right here in Manguzi! Surprise doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt, but it was such an amazing reminder that God is holding me in His hands and has a purposeful and joyful future prepared for me. To my now beloved fiancé, this song is for you! No matter where you are, I’ll be there.

Moving on to my reflections as a maturing OT, this month has reminded me of a number of hard truths I’ve had to learn over the last few years as my understanding of the Christian OT role has developed: 

1) I can't save the world (as much as my heart has always wished I would). 

2) If I take the crisis out of any situation, I always find a far more rational and empowering solution than what I would have initially expected.

3) I need to pick my battles. 

I learnt the first two truths early on in my university journey - and experienced much anguish (closely followed by overwhelming relief) as a result of coming to understand them. The third one has become more and more apparent as my time in Manguzi has come along. There are times when I need to let the hardships I face each day pass me by without becoming involved or overwhelming by them. There are patients who I have treated on a superficial level and allowed to walk out the department despite the unhealed wounds they hold on the inside. While this is never an easy choice, I have learnt that in order to save myself for further service down the line, there needs to actually be a line. While God often calls me to go beyond the role of a mere occupational therapist, there are also times when I have had to step away, to let go of a situation and give it to God.

While out on one of the clinics I attend on a monthly basis, I came face to face with the reminder that I need to pick my battles. Sometimes someone else’s hardship is not for me to solve. And that is unbelievably refreshing. The extract below provides insight to my thought processes that occurred soon after an incident at the clinic this month.

Today I was defeated by bureaucracy. My tears fall hard and hot from my face as we travel away from the clinic we had been working at all day. The bumpy sand road brings out the worst of the already rickety old yellow minibus taxi as we travelled through clouds of heat, petrol and dust back to our base at the hospital. The more I think about it the harder my tears fell as my frustration within the situation overwhelms me. Thankfully my sniffing is drowned out by the laughter of the other health professionals in the bus as they chat away, relieved to see the end of the long clinic day. 

The bus driver, along with the rest of the passengers in the bus, appears unfazed by the incident that had just occurred. They have most likely become numb to the injustices of this place. Or maybe this isn’t their battle to fight. Maybe it isn’t mine either. I wonder whether they would still appear so unperturbed if it was their relative lying on the bed rather than a faceless stranger.

The clinic is situated over an hour’s drive from the hospital and involves navigating a tricky sand road along the way. As I was packing up my last therapy devices, I noticed two patients lying on nearby beds with drips in their arms. They had been waiting for an ambulance to take them to hospital all day. But the sun was soon to set and the ambulance was nowhere to be found. Naively I thought that we could just squeeze the two patients in the minibus with us on the way back to the hospital. The nurse in the opposite room was relieved by my offer as I could see she was worried about the clear lack of emergency services. 

But little did I know that taking patients in hospital cars is clearly not allowed. A simple, but undoubtedly firm "no" from the bus driver left me confused and frustrated. His explanation of "is not in my mandate" or something similar, left me oddly stunned as this was not the first time this week that I  had encountered similar sentiments by other people working within the hospital context. I told him I will make some calls to his superiors and others in positions of power but he seemed unperturbed by my threats. Clearly this was a rule and not one I was going to get around today. I returned to the eagerly waiting nurse inside the clinic. I apologised and explained the situation as angry tears filled my eyes. She comforted me sympathetically and explained that she'd had similar situations in the past. “We will just have to pray that an ambulance arrives before the patients’ conditions become critical”. Her gentle words only added fuel to the raging fire within me and despite my valiant efforts to control my emotions, the tears spilled down my hot face in front of a room full of patients still waiting to be seen by the local clinic nurse. I had been defeated. And everyone seemed okay with it. Why was the bus driver so unashamedly stubborn about this? Why did the nurse's sympathetic words sound so knowing? Why the hell was I crying? 

I guess in the back of my mind all I could think about was the oath I took as I completed university last year: an oath to serve people who needed me, to fight for justice and beneficence. Everything I promised seemed to be slipping through my hands. The weight of accessible health care rested heavily on my shoulders as I climbed wearily into the bus. Maybe I should've done more. Maybe I should have fought harder in the moment. I found myself questioning how these situations still occurred after 20 years of democracy. The disappearing clinic seemed trapped in its rural impoverished world, unaware of the riches and wealth of the politicians it voted into power. Why were the people so supportive of a party who did nothing to assist their current situation and appeared callus to their basic needs? Some days this place all makes sense to me. But today is not one of those days. 

In hindsight, the hospital’s policy is an understandable one and is underpinned by the need to keep the hospital out of tricky situations which could hinder its overall functioning and desire to help and heal. I also noticed an ambulance travelling slowly towards the clinic on my way back to the hospital (the bus driver was all too happy to point it out to me as if to remind me not to mess with a system I did not understand.) I guess all is not lost and the fact that there is so much to improve on means that I get the opportunity to be a part of a struggle far bigger than my own.  This place and its people have stolen my heart and that, undeniably, is worth fighting for.

This theme of “picking my battles” was further confirmed this month by a lesson I learnt from my Bible Study group. Over the last few weeks in Bible study, we have focused on reading a chapter a week of the first book of Timothy. This has been an enlightening time for me as I was forced to get into God's word and apply it to my current context. 

One of the many revelations I had regarded the role of family when caring for a old, sick or needy family member. 1 Timothy 5:3-4 reminds me that while the church and fellow Christians should be helping those in need, it is the role of a person's family to support and care for them prior to the person becoming the responsibility of the church. As a Christian working within this context, I have often found myself urged to go beyond the bounds of my job to assist a patient in need, to work hard at uplift the plight of the suffering and to be a light in an often difficult context. While this is often needed and even expected of us as Christians, there are times when we need to step back and allow a person's family to take their rightful place as carers for their aging gogos and mkhulus. 

The "bleeding heart" Christians, as my mum likes to call them, can actually do more harm than good. Their generous efforts to rectify what appears to them as a crisis situation often creates a sense of dependence to those in need. As an OT, I have learnt that the core of my profession is focused on enhancing, enabling and empowering people to reach their potential. Giving, doing and immobilising people in their own weakness is no way to ensure this. Sometimes I need to pick my battles and consider the way that I help someone before getting involved.

July Memories:

Engaged to the love of my life!

 A fantastic visit from two old friends from Westville. Thanks for visiting Megz and Kim!

Fun times climbing the water tower for sundowners.

The arrival of Bernie and Giles, two med students from UCT, called for a trip to Swaziland and hanging out in trees.

What a beautiful little country we have found nestled within out borders!

Mozambique & post-engagement adventures...what a fantastic group of people!

The opening of the new female ward at the hospital caused for great celebration (and photo-taking!)

Two thumbs up for the new ward!

Teaching a young caregiver how to push her Gogo through sandy areas to prepare them for their home context

A 4 month old baby in gallows traction to help the healing process of a broken femur

A creative mkhulu who used a high chair leg covered in colourful 2litre wrappers as a walking stick

Making a standing frame for a CP child out of boxes and glue

Fun in the department when one of my stroke patients decided she was too cold for rehab

Me and Mama Buthelezi, my first and favourite stroke patient!

The Half Way Mark

With 6 months of com serve already behind me, I am finding myself becoming more and more attached to Manguzi and all the adventures on which it has taken me thus far. The rural com serve experience is not something to be explained, but something to be experienced. You will never truly understand it until you live it. I found a great blog post about 10 reasons to go rural for com serve (written by a doctor). Click here to check it out!

As the months fly by I have found myself being overwhelmed with nostalgia as I walk down the long hospital ramp and think back on all the special memories I have already accumulated in this place. A few of our foreign doctors have finished their placements at Manguzi in the last few weeks and it has been really sad to see them go. Check out this awesome video of our hospital and surrounds that one of our Dutch doctors made (Click here). Thanks Joris! With 6 months left and more people leaving back to their homes abroad, it's difficult not to begin to think of next year and the idea of leaving my new beloved home. 

My boyfriend likes to remind me that the life I lead now is far from normal. I live in this almost surreal lifestyle where going away every weekend is considered standard; where sundowners by lakes are common practice and where living a 30 seconds walk from work is viewed as normal. But while I may live in the bush, it doesn't mean life is relaxed. Adventure and chances for new memories appear around every corner and who am I to reject these enticing opportunities? This month I spent time visiting and being visited by both old and new friends. I completed a cycle race in Swaziland (only barely), acquainted old Durban friends with my new home, visited friends in the closest piece of civilisation (yes, Richard’s Bay seems like another world compared to this life) and watched the awesome Casting Crowns live in concert. In the midst of the travelling, talking, memory making and nature-loving, I claimed a Walsh student as my friend before she even knew my name and drove a good couple thousand kilometres...and that’s just on the weekends! ;)

But busy doesn't always mean good.  I have been “burning the candle at both ends” as my mum would say. I have often failed to listen to God and his promptings recently and was reminded of this in one of the devotions I read. As I read it through sleepy eyes after another late night, the devotion simply read, “Your busyness wearies Me. Small wonder you are fatigued!” I was reminded that prioritising God and listening to what He is telling me should be a matter of first importance. I believe He has a lot to tell us if we just take time to sit and listen. Spending daily time with Him is essential to keep my head and my heart on the right track. It is easy to become self absorbed, proud and conceited without constant alignment of my heart to God's will. Actively listening to where he is leading me, to who He is calling me to be and to how I should be living are all crucial for how I practice OT. Whether it's a kind word to a patient, an affectionate hug to a friend or a listening ear to a colleague, God is talking, I just need to learn to listen. 

God has once again reminded me of the importance of taking time to connect with other people. We serve a God of relationships who wants us to really take time out of our day to interact with other humans. In the hospital setting, I really need to work hard in doing this and learning to spend an extra few extra minutes with each patient. I need to try to understand a Gogo’s story before getting her out of bed; to take time to play with a sick child who has been lying down for 2 weeks; to listen to the story of a struggling outpatient before making a hand splint. The more I do my job, the more in love with the people I have become. It seems that OT is merely an avenue through which I can connect with people and share a small portion of God's love with them. I am privileged enough to do what I love but the more I do it, the more I love what I do.

I am also starting to really grow in my confidence and OT skills. With a course covering the assessment and treatment of cerebral palsy (CP) now under my belt, I feel much more at ease when seeing patients with this complex disorder. I also felt a sense of hope and joy in working with them as I had finally acquired some skills on how to tackle the numerous problems they face. My perspective of CP has changed completely since attending the course and I am amazed at how much there is to do for these children and their caregivers. Instead of racking my brain for what to do within a session, I now have to prioritise the many techniques, positions, and advice I want to share with the caregiver – there is just not enough time for me to do all the therapy I think is necessary each session! What a welcome change from feeling incompetent and clueless!

I have had many rewarding moments this month where the community has shown me their appreciation for my time and effort in a variety of ways. I held a ‘graduation’ party for a group of boys who were no longer going to attend the “Concept Group” that I run once a month for children struggling with basic concepts in Grade R and Grade 1. Much to my surprise, the caregivers of the children organised to meet together prior to the time and spent the entire morning cooking food for the party. I was blown away by this gesture as I knew their home circumstances and lack of financial resources. I was humbled by their kind words of thanks and sharing of food at the party.

I was also recently encouraged by a random nurse who came up to me while I was working with a patient in one of the wards. She asked me if I am the OT at Mahlangulu (one of the clinics I work at once a month). After replying “yes” to her question, she smiled and asked me whether I knew her son, Blessing, a child with a hand deformity I had been treating since the beginning of the year. I could recall seeing Blessing and his Gogo visit me on various occasions at the clinic and had given them numerous ideas of how to assist with his hand condition. The nurse simply wanted to thank me for all the therapy I had provided Blessing as she said he is finally making progress after years of not seeing any change. It was such an affirming moment for me as I was able to see how my skills and advice had made a difference in the life of a child and his family.

As it was my birthday month, I felt incredibly spoilt and loved by both new and old friends. I was showered with words of wisdom and encouragement and reminded of how supported and loved I am. I was reminded that as I grow older it is important not to build a super woman complex and think that I can be everything to everyone. One colleague gave me some special advice on my birthday: (1) Prioritise the important people (2) Prioritise the important goals (3) Learn to say no.

With those words, I will end my June edition of my community service blog. Below are a few highlights of the last month:

 Making Memories at the Hospital:

Cheers to 6 months as rehab com-serves!

Kelly and Cheri, two fellow rehab com-serves chilling in our lounge with their designer coffee table (all you need is some bricks, a pallet and a Mozambique copolana [excuse the spelling])

One of the hospital cats came looking for a cuddle at our house

Zenia, the permentant Speech Therapist, with one of our beautiful Down Syndrome children

Concept Group 'Graduation' Party 

Creative splinting for a club foot

Elizma, the com-serve physio running a session in the community. She is working on Ayanda's balance using a ncansi mat - rural rehab is best!

A doctor in the making?

Connecting with new and old friends this month:

My birthday picnic with my parents and close friends, Megz and Jase, in Richards Bay

Taking Denny & Reah on the path taken by locals to Kosi Bay Mouth

Kosi Bay Mouth at high tide...watch out for Lion and Stone Fish!

Going for a dive at Sodwana with Megan, a UK medical student, who spent 3 weeks at Manguzi.

So lovely to catch up with Lauren and Kelly, my fellow OTs, in Pretoria!

I was blown away by Casting Crowns, an American Christian band who came to Pretoria this month. How wonderful to be a part of over 7000 people all praising God!

Passion, People & Places

May has been yet another month packed with great connections, challenges and learning opportunities. It has been a month of celebrations and special events; a month of busy wards and bustling cities. The past few weeks have flashed by in a blur of numerous adventures, with very little time to take it all in and capture my experiences in written form. This month I attended 3 weddings, went paddling down the Pongola River, went to the most phenomenal music festival in Swaziland, travelled through 3 countries in one week and drove about 4000km. Needless to say, writing has taken a back-seat amidst all the busyness and I've decided to make use of a photo blog to share my experiences with you this month. Enjoy!

Manguzi Life

Eating yummy sugar cane

Sundowners on top of the water tower

Human-less beaches with hot sun in the middle of winter!

Attempting to splint the broken leg of one of the local owls

Elizma, the physio, and I running a self care group for the women in the MDR ward. Who knew they would get so excited about hand massages and painting nails!

Spontaneous drumming group with some children in the therapy department

We bid a very tearful farewell to this inspiring young man as he finally lost the fight against a disease that had plagued his body since birth. Njabulo's legacy will continue to give me strength and hope when working with children riddled with HIV AIDS.

Weddings, Weddings, Weddings!

I had the privilege of being a part of this very special couple's wedding. Congratulations Megz and Jase!

One of the staff in our therapy department got married...a celebration not to be missed.

Nothing like some casual dancing in the middle of the ceremony!

Iain and I travelled all the way to Xai Xai, Mozambique to witness the marriage of these two wonderful people. Congratulations Jose and Marcia!

A view of the reception in Mozambique at Marcia's family's homestead.

The Adventure Continues!

Paddling down the Pongola River with a bunch of other Manguzians was such a treat!

The view before we set off. Jozini Dam wall bidding us goodbye in the background.

Cheri, the audiologist, and me....a formidable combination!

Relaxing at Jozini's Tiget Lodge in the infinity pool.

BUSHFIRE!!! A music festival in Swaziland that left me fired up and wishing for a longer weekend!

Val, Kate and I warming up by one of the large fires in the festival. Our local Manguzian shirts reminding us of the rural life back home.

Making Marvellous Connections

The last month has been filled with special encounters with remarkable people. I’d like to share the stories of the moments I’ve spent with such inspiring individuals as they have brought light into my life and hope into the most seemingly difficult situations. Their stories have reminded of how sometimes, we must go through trials to grow closer to God. Or, as Third Day puts it, we must go through the valley to stand upon the mountain of God. Click here to listen to their song.

The first two beautiful souls I must mention are two malnourished children who I met in the hospital’s paediatric ward. Both suffer from chronic malnourishment and are severely developmentally delayed. The first, Phiwa, is about to turn 5 years old yet he looks the size of a 2 year old and is still learning to walk by himself. The second child, a cute 2 year old from Mozambique, lives in a family where poverty is rife and he has never been able to access the nourishing nutrients his body needs. These two little boys became my month’s mission as I knew they would be in the hospital for quite some time as their mothers worked closely with the dieticians in an attempt to use supplements to increase their weight and undo the effects that chronic malnourishment had had on their tiny bodies. This gave me the time to show the mothers how to assist their children develop and i would visit them each afternoon to play with the two boys. While it sounds simple, it was an incredibly difficult and draining task as initially they were the two most unhappy children I have ever met. They refused to laugh, smile or even be touched by me. They would start to cry as soon as I entered their little room in the ward, wiggling their frail limbs and enormous kwashiorkor bellies in an attempt to get as far away from me as possible. But, by the grace of God, consistent interactions and abounding love, these two little boys started to come to life again.

I shared a particularly special moment with Phiwa the first time I managed to get him to walk out of his little room without his mother.  We slowly made our way over to the small plastic house in the paediatrics playroom. Phiwa approached the house cautiously and stood outside staring blankly at it while I tried to coax him to enter. Eventually, I decided I may as well squeeze into the small house myself and show him it was okay. I started to giggle uncontrollably the moment I had finally fitted my entire body into the area. The absurdity of sitting in a tiny plastic house in order to try coax a small child inside gave me such joy and I was reminded of how lucky I am to have the job that I do. To top off the experience, Phiwa finally decided that he would join me in the house and we squeezed inside together. My laughter became contagious and all of a sudden his tiny mouth curved into a smile, then a giggle and then he let loose a hearty laugh. That moment in the tiny plastic house broke the ice between me and Phiwa and from then on he stopped crying when I entered the ward and would look at me expectantly for each day’s play activity.

Within a few weeks both boys started to engage with me and the days I managed to make them laugh gave me the energy and encouragement to loving them with all my heart. Through constant demonstration and active involvement, their young mothers started to imitate my playfulness and assisted in drawing the children out of their unhappy little worlds. By the time they left the hospital, both boys gave me a smile and a high five. That was by far the best day I’ve had this month.

The second inspirational individual I met this month is a young man by the name of Phumzane Nthuli. As a local Manguzian, he is the pride of many people in the community. Phumzane is the town’s dearest ultra marathon runner, and his passion and drive to win is almost overwhelming. Coming from circumstances that would usually tear at my heart strings, this young athlete has reminded me to appreciate the small things as they bring opportunity and promise. He walked into therapy one day asking for the physiotherapists to give him some exercises for his upcoming race in Cape Town (a city he had only ever heard about, but never travelled to). After talking to the physios, they realised he needed some assistance with organising sponsors for his upcoming races and I was asked to help him. Phumzane and I took time to discuss his goals, his needs, desires and future plans. Together we established sponsorship letters he could hand out to various local businesses and worked out a budget for each race he was hoping to run. His budget made me cringe as I considered how easily I had paid for expensive running clothes, how I had never considered using a bus to get to Cape Town and how using someone’s old running shoes could been seen as such a blessing. While his dreams are big, and his heart even bigger, Phumzane is one of the most humble men I have ever encountered. Phumzane thanked me profusely throughout our first encounter together and I tried hard not to cry as a result of his humility and passion.

I am proud to write that Phumzane did extremely well in his first Two Oceans Ultra Marathon. He returned to our therapy department after the race and re-enacted every detail of his time in Cape Town, much to my delight and encouragement. Having run 56km in 4 hours and 24 minutes, he recieved a gold medal for his achievement and wore a permanent grin on his face as he retold the stories of his time in “that amazing city.” He showed me many photos of his trip down, the free accommodation he stayed in as an underprivileged runner (called Runners Village) and the various parts of Cape Town he saw while there. He also proudly displayed the various apparel he had been given by the Two Oceans sponsors as a part of his time in Runners Village. He was so concerned about thanking the people who had sponsored him, no matter how small their donations and I couldn’t help but get choked up as he repeatedly commented on how he didn’t know how to show his gratitude to those who had assisted him in getting to Cape Town.

Phumzane’s story is one of true courage and determination. If anyone is looking to sponsor an athlete with a heart for his community and a desire to be a role model for the local Manguzi children, I would recommended you check out his facebook page or contact him on 078 758 4698 to find out how you can assist him.

Phumzane proudly showing off his meddle and Two Oceans T-shirt after returning from Cape Town

A truly South African experience

This month I feel like I ticked off one of the important milestones in my journey as a South African: taking a long-distance ride in a taxi. While millions of South Africans use taxi's as a means of daily transport, I have rarely needed to rely on public transport, especially one that is synonymous with accidents, violence, loud music and unroad-worthy vehicles. But things are different out here in the bush* and I felt compelled to share an experience with my fellow South Africans. (Well, that and the fact that the drive between Manguzi and Durban costs me R1000 return in my own car while the taxi was a cool R380 return...enough said).

The entire journey was surprisingly enjoyable, and while sometimes we'd stop for half an hour to wait for more passengers and fill up with fuel, I had very little to be annoyed about. I was able to sleep, read, write this blog, eat and enjoy the scenery without focusing on driving and trying to stay awake. While, yes, the music was loud and some passengers even louder, my position in the front seat of the taxi allowed me lots of space to curl up and sleep. I quickly made myself at home by putting my feet on the dashboard and chatting to the jolly man sitting behind me, much to the amusement of driver and other passengers. With the dark (I mean really dark) tinted windows slightly open creating the perfect breeze, the experienced driver clearly in control of the road, the secure, well-run vehicle with only a slightly cracked windscreen (nobody’s perfect), I settled into journey with a sense of complete satisfaction: it was a cheap, enjoyable ride that I would recommend in an instant and plan to do again as soon as the opportunity arises.

The journey back on the taxi two days later was a completely different experience but just as enjoyable. The driver’s surprising taste for Celine Dion music made me giggle but I enjoyed singing along to her songs nevertheless. That coupled with the gospel music (it was Sunday after all) and chats I shared with one of the local nurses who recognised me made for a pleasant drive. The driver dodged cows with skill and poise as the sun started to set. My only two concerns were found with the passengers incessant need to throw rubbish out their windows and the fairly suspicious rustling bag that was lugged onto the taxi by an obvious Rastafarian (there was no doubt that the enormous bag was filled with weed). I was only proposed to twice between the taxi rank and my home (a fairly normal occurrence in Manguzi for me) and I even learnt how to fill up a taxi with petrol (not as simple as one may expect!)

In retrospect, I realised that it is not the reactions of the black people on the taxi that surprised me (they looked after from me moment I stepped inside the vehicle) but rather my own white suburban civilians who could not quite fathom how I could choose to travel in such a way. I hope this post changes at least one person’s view of taxis. If I'm honest, I trusted their driving far more than my own on these roads!!

Relinquishing control:

Besides being humbled by genuine human encounters this month, I have been journeying with the importance of relinquishing control of my life to completely God. I tend to like to keep different areas of my life in neat little boxes which are opened at when necessary.  I have (mostly) carefully thought out plans with specific details of how to achieve these.  When things do not work out as planned, I feel my life crumbling around me and become frustrated by my lack of control. God has been gently nudging me to change this completely unnecessary aspect of my character and has been guiding my heart to a place where I am able to give all my anxieties to Him. 

During one of my quiet times this month I read something in my daily devotional that really struck me..."do not lift your hand to attempt to accomplish any slightest task in your own strength. This I have forbidden. God helps not those who help themselves, but he is the champion of those who cannot help themselves and of those who are wise enough not to try. It is not your cooperation for which I have asked, but your submission."

A few days later I found this poem which seemed to fit perfectly with what I was experiencing. It is my prayer that it may assist you too. God bless!

Tender Love

Holy Spirit from above,

Tender, undefiled Dove,

In my spirit have Thy way,

O’re my actions hold full sway.

Blest Companion from on high,

In Thy comfort ever nigh;

Bind my heart to Christ in love,

O Thou precious, Heavenly Dove.

This cold heart and these dull eyes,

So unfit for Paradise,

Fire with Thy sacred flame,

Show the power of Jesus’ Name.

Weak I in myself may be,

But my strength shall be in Thee,

Sweet provision of God’s grace;

In Thy gift His love I trace.

I could not Thy coming earn,

Could no more Thy wooing spurn.

Take control and bless and use

As the Infinite shall choose.

*(Side-note: one of my local Manguzi friends was horrified to hear me call her home town "the bush." Clearly we have different ideas of what one considers rural!)

Some of April's moments captured on camera:

Learning how to make a tiny splint for a newborn baby with a club foot

Me and the eye nurse sharing some corn off the braai bought on the side of the road on our way back from a clinic

Fikile, one of the physio assistants leading an exercise group for women with osteoarthritis or chronic pain issues

The bugs in this area seem to just get bigger by the day

What interesting cases we have around these parts! Notice anything different with this child's fingers?

Easter weekend with my boyfriend...a perfect opportunity for us to paint a chalkboard world map on his wall!

I had the privilege of watching these two special friends get married this month. What a beautiful wedding it was!

Broadening Horizons

March has come and gone and I feel like this year is running swiftly away with me! I have had another month of both inspiring and devastating moments; times when I have felt on top of the world and others when I have felt it come crashing down around me. I am learning to rely on God in all these experiences as He is one constant in my life. He is slowly changing my perspective and allowing me to broaden my horizons as opportunities arise.

Enhancing Knowledge

With my mind still focused on developing my understanding of OT, I have found that this month has allowed me to start to deepen my understanding of many techniques and skills to which I had never been exposed at varsity. I am beginning to become proficient in assessing newborn babies for primitive reflexes as we have a growing number of babies entered into our High Risk Baby Programme (this project was established in an attempt to improve child disability rates and reduce the numbers of developmental delays in children under 5 years old in the area). I have broadened my understanding nerve compression injuries and have a good knowledge of how to assess and treat a variety of painful hand conditions. I have learnt the importance of ensuring sterile equipment and clean dressings when treating abscesses and cellulitis and gained priceless knowledge on how to these conditions develop. I often find myself providing advice to mothers with malnourished children who don’t understand the development process and am encouraged when I observe their change in their interactions with their child in order to promote stimulation and development through play. I also work with children who have severe cerebral palsy on a weekly basis and am finally getting to grips with this often overwhelming disorder.

Uplifting Encouragement

I have found encouragement this month from the 4 disabled workers we have in our therapy department. While many people step through our doors each day seeking an undeserving disability grant, I have found great joy in observing how they motivate other disabled people to move away from grant-seeking tendencies and focus on all that they can do rather than needing help to get through every day. These workers have full-time jobs despite their obvious disabilities – they are true activists for enabling people with disabilities to move beyond the limitations within their environment. One of the assistants in particular never ceases to amaze me as she has gathered more and more support in the case against the education department (see previous blog). With the help of a local disabled people’s organisation, Margaret and a local OT, Jabu, managed to gather over 300 parents of disabled children (on an incredibly rainy day!) at Manguzi’s tribal authority to take statements and assist Section 27 in beginning the court case against the department of education to make more placements available for disabled children in the area.

Disheartened Sorrow

As mentioned earlier, March continued to produce the high highs and low lows that have been so evident in my previous two months here in Manguzi. Hearing about the loss of a young child is never easy, however when the child belonged to a small community of which one is apart, it makes it even harder. The therapy department experienced a very sad and difficult Monday after hearing about the death of two babies and two therapy patients over the previous weekend. While I didn't know any of them personally, I know their relatives and I was crushed to hear about the deaths. A subdued gloomy atmosphere covered the department, only intensified by the seemingly mourning sky which continued to pour with rain the entire day. Many times I had to blink back tears as I thought about the lives that were lost. That day I started to really understand the power of community...as the people around me mourned the lives they had lost, I couldn’t help but mourn with them. Their saddness was my own; their grief felt deep within me. It is clear that the longer I live here, the more ubuntu is becoming a part of my life.

That week continued to be difficult as I felt the effects of a developing cold wear me down. I took time to sleep whenever I could and tried to rejuvinate my tired body. However, God's provision never ceased to amaze me during that time. Every morning I would declare his glory over my day and ask that somehow His name would be lifted on high. Every day I was sick I still came home feeling as if I had had at least one break through within my work tasks; be it in terms of patient rehab, writing reports or connecting with external stakeholders. God was completely present within that tiring week and reminded me, once again, that my weakness is made perfect in his power.

Overpowering Beauty

One of the most amazing parts of living out in the bush is that every weekend is transformed into an exciting holiday destination as I explore the abundance of breath-taking destinations that surround me. March held particularly amazing holiday memories as I took a week off work to spend time with my boyfriend and parents. Please allow me to boast, just a bit...

I ended up travelling between Ponto Malangane (Mozambique), Sodwana Bay and Mkhuze Game Reserve in the space of 10 days. It was so magical to see such differences in the types of beauty that these places hold that are relatively close together. I was in awe of the remote beauty in Ponto Malangane and experienced a sense of sheer pleasure walking onto a vast deserted beach at all times of the day.  The beach ran for miles and miles in each direction with little to no evidence of any other human beings. In Sodwana Bay I spent 4 days with my boyfriend, Iain, learning to dive and discovered an underwater world I had never known about. I immediately fell in love with this underwater paradise as God’s handiwork became more obvious than ever before. I loved the feeling of flying over mountains of brightly coloured coral teeming with abundant sea life. During our 4 training dives we had managed to see eels, a ray, a flounder, hundreds of different types of fish and even a black tip reef shark. I then moved onto Mkhuze Game Reserve which houses many of Africa’s finest animals. It was lovely to spend time with my parents and family friends as we searched for game out in the bushy expanse of the reserve. I marvelled at how our God could create something as bizarre and oddly cute as a rhino and then go on to create the delicate, yet deadly shape, of the ? spider. The 10 days out in nature were a great reminder of God’s power, thoughtfulness and utter ingenuity when He created the earth.

March Highlights:

1.    Visiting my first traditional homestead for a home-based care visit to a gogo and her grandson who has cerebral palsy. What a truly humbling experience!

2.    Getting my divers! As previously mentioned, it was such a fantastic experience to observe the world from the bottom of the ocean bed. Life and colours abound and I was reminded of the brilliance of God in the big and the small creatures.

3.     Visiting the owner of an orphanage in the small village of Ponto Mamoli and learning about how he has become the father to hundreds of children over the last 20 or so years. It was so uplifting to hear his story of being called by God into this ministry and I was so humbled to have the opportunity to pray for him and his ministry.

March Lowlights:

1.       I’m still struggling to find my place within the therapy department. While I feel like everyone has settled into their respective roles, I am still trying to find exactly how I fit into the team.

2.   I often doubt the course of action I take when assessing and treating clients and find myself feeling lost and confused on a regular basis. I am often clueless when dealing with more challenging cases and feel like I am constantly bugging my superiors to assist me.

3.   Feeling rather distressed after having to dress and splint the hand of a child who has had 2 finger amputations and 2 contracture releases as a result of old burns. He screamed and cried in my face for the entire hour and had to be held down by 2 women while I treated his hand. I'm not quite sure whether the child or I was more traumatised!

Iain and I gearing up for our first dive at Sodwana

Ready to rock and roll!

 

Visiting Ntokozo and his Gogo at their homestead about an hours drive from the hospital

Zinhle, my fellow community service OT waiting at the homestead (note the goats in the background!)

On my way to Mkhuze Game Reserve these 3 calves refused to get out of my way and I had to make a detour through large potholes to avoid bumping into them.

I found this little guy as I was making my way through the Mkhuze Game Reserve. He was so small but moved at quite a pace!

Two of our disabled workers at the therapy department. They are our wheelchair repairman...how ironic ;)

Stimulation group transformed into a hair braiding session on a slow Friday afternoon

One of the TB MDR patients craft project - bags to sell at the hospital promoting TB prevention.