I started this last night. I will be leaving for the hospital again in a little bit so I won't get to finish it right now but this will get you started on the story of Yamuleith. It’s 11:45 p.m. and the heat index is still at 93 degrees. It is miserable in the house – must be a good 5 to 10 degrees hotter. You know it’s pretty nasty when you are sitting perfectly still and you still work up a good sweat!
I don’t know if it’s because of this stifling heat or the caffeine kicking in from the soda I had a couple of hours ago or whether it’s simply the constant replaying of today’s events in my mind but whatever the reason, I think sleep is going to be pretty elusive tonight . So that means it’s time for blog therapy again.
I need to give you some background on what we’re dealing with right now. Right before we flew back to the States in March, we were taken to visit a young girl named Yamuleith (pronounced Jahmulet). Karen and Dwane, who are the folks who were instrumental in getting CINAFE started, have been helping with Yamuleith’s care and as Karen was also going to be flying back to the States, she wanted to run by and check on her and Karen also wanted us to meet her. She had given us a little history on her but even so, we weren’t at all prepared for what we were about to see.
I will try to do this as accurately as I can. We’ve heard her story several times and so I’m trying to piece it together to get the whole thing right but there is still so much I’m fuzzy on. She and her family lived in Costa Rica and her mother died. Her brothers were extremely abusive and the family moved around quite a bit.
I don’t know if it’s because of this stifling heat or the caffeine kicking in from the soda I had a couple of hours ago or whether it’s simply the constant replaying of today’s events in my mind but whatever the reason, I think sleep is going to be pretty elusive tonight . So that means it’s time for blog therapy again.
I need to give you some background on what we’re dealing with right now. Right before we flew back to the States in March, we were taken to visit a young girl named Yamuleith (pronounced Jahmulet). Karen and Dwane, who are the folks who were instrumental in getting CINAFE started, have been helping with Yamuleith’s care and as Karen was also going to be flying back to the States, she wanted to run by and check on her and Karen also wanted us to meet her. She had given us a little history on her but even so, we weren’t at all prepared for what we were about to see.
I will try to do this as accurately as I can. We’ve heard her story several times and so I’m trying to piece it together to get the whole thing right but there is still so much I’m fuzzy on. She and her family lived in Costa Rica and her mother died. Her brothers were extremely abusive and the family moved around quite a bit.
Finally, due to neighbors complaining about her situation, Yamuleith was removed from the home. She was put back in the home with the father and the brothers ended up bringing her to Nicaragua to avoid abuse charges. Somehow, they traveled back and forth to avoid the law. I’m not sure exactly what happened next.
But moving forward, about 15 months ago, she was found wrapped in a sheet which was wrapped with ropes or barbed wire – I’ve heard both and am not sure which is true – and left to die. She had not had food or water for 5 days. The doctors didn’t think she was going to live. She had suffered major abuse and malnutrition which has caused permanent damage to her body. I am truly amazed that she is still alive even tonight as I write this.
Cesar, a pastor, and his wife, Erika, had brought Yamuleith home to live with them. The pastor is the one who found her and he promised her that he would never abandon her. They are a poor family, who live in a two room house and they have four children of their own – twin boys, Erik & Eddi, ages 14, a daughter, Julissa, age 12 and little Cesar, age 3. The pastor is currently working on the east coast and is gone for 1 to 2 months at a time. Erika, sells beans to try to supplement their income.
Yamuleith is now a special needs child as a direct result of all the abuse she has suffered. She is blind, has a colostomy and a catheter. She is unbelievably thin…Jim thinks she might weigh between 60-70 lbs…and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were less. She has very little movement in her limbs or extremities. Her muscles have atrophied to the point she cannot hold herself up in her wheelchair and has to be tied in to it in order to stay upright. The wheelchair is a plastic chair that has been attached to a wheelchair frame. This is important to know as you have to keep in mind she sits on a hard surface all day. When she is in her bed, she is only able to slightly move her head and several fingers. She is totally dependent upon someone to take care of her every need. She can’t even brush off the ants that crawl across her body.
But moving forward, about 15 months ago, she was found wrapped in a sheet which was wrapped with ropes or barbed wire – I’ve heard both and am not sure which is true – and left to die. She had not had food or water for 5 days. The doctors didn’t think she was going to live. She had suffered major abuse and malnutrition which has caused permanent damage to her body. I am truly amazed that she is still alive even tonight as I write this.
Cesar, a pastor, and his wife, Erika, had brought Yamuleith home to live with them. The pastor is the one who found her and he promised her that he would never abandon her. They are a poor family, who live in a two room house and they have four children of their own – twin boys, Erik & Eddi, ages 14, a daughter, Julissa, age 12 and little Cesar, age 3. The pastor is currently working on the east coast and is gone for 1 to 2 months at a time. Erika, sells beans to try to supplement their income.
Yamuleith is now a special needs child as a direct result of all the abuse she has suffered. She is blind, has a colostomy and a catheter. She is unbelievably thin…Jim thinks she might weigh between 60-70 lbs…and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were less. She has very little movement in her limbs or extremities. Her muscles have atrophied to the point she cannot hold herself up in her wheelchair and has to be tied in to it in order to stay upright. The wheelchair is a plastic chair that has been attached to a wheelchair frame. This is important to know as you have to keep in mind she sits on a hard surface all day. When she is in her bed, she is only able to slightly move her head and several fingers. She is totally dependent upon someone to take care of her every need. She can’t even brush off the ants that crawl across her body.
It would be easy to think that she wouldn’t be able to communicate very well but that is not true. She is a very smart young girl and she loves having visitors. When she’s feeling “good”, she wants to talk and loves to talk about the food she likes to eat…the food that the gringos bring when they visit.
Karen and Dwane have done a wonderful job of helping the family with Yamuleith’s care which is no small feat considering they are in Ohio most of the time these days. And Yamuleith requires a lot of care. They had met her last year through some other folks when she had been hospitalized for malnutrition and they have invested themselves and their resources to help with her care.
Okay, so we met Yamuleith that Saturday night in March with Karen. Her story touched my heart but her sweet spirit and lack of self-pity, stole it. Once again, I thought how we came here to share the gospel, to demonstrate the love of the Lord and to minister to the needy. Once again, God turned the tables. Yamuleith did all those things for us.
Karen asked the family if it would be okay for us to stop by on occasion and check to see how Yamuleith was doing. She assured them that we were good people. You know…that’s a funny thing to hear about yourself…someone having to vouch for your character. It’s actually pretty humbling from both perspectives - that someone might be suspicious of our motives and that someone else had to vouch for us. The pastor and his wife cordially said it would be fine. We didn’t stay long that night but it was long enough to know that this young lady was very unique.
The next day, we went to PriceSmart to buy two cans of Sustagen for Karen to give to the family as she was going to run by once more before she left. We all agreed Yamuleith needed better nutrition and thought this might be one way to help supplement her diet while we were gone. She was also supposed to be having more fruits and vegetables added to her diet but we all had our suspicions that probably wasn’t happening much.
Karen had to leave to return to the States two days later – Monday, March 8th. The date is important. We took Karen to the airport and we assured her that we would check on Yamuleith when we returned from the States. She also said that she was going to have Dr. Oliver from CINAFE check on her while we were gone and that she had suggested that he go twice a week.
We flew to the States the following morning and didn’t return until April 1st. Due to the problems we had with our car, we weren’t able to get out until Monday. Tuesday, we took Dr. Oliver with us and we went to check on Yamuleith. I was shocked at how much thinner she looked. I didn’t th
ink that was even possible. We visited briefly with the family an
d Yamuleith and then left.
We are in frequent communication with Karen and Dwane – thanks to Skype – and so I mentioned to Karen that I thought Yamuleith looked even thinner. We exchanged pictures that we each had taken of Yamuleith and Karen also thought that she was noticeably thinner. The picture on the left was one that Karen took several months ago. The one that we took last week is on the right. She was in a lot of pain that day but what I want you to see is how thin her arms and legs are. And look at her shoulders and chest...every bone is visible.
Karen and Dwane have done a wonderful job of helping the family with Yamuleith’s care which is no small feat considering they are in Ohio most of the time these days. And Yamuleith requires a lot of care. They had met her last year through some other folks when she had been hospitalized for malnutrition and they have invested themselves and their resources to help with her care.
Okay, so we met Yamuleith that Saturday night in March with Karen. Her story touched my heart but her sweet spirit and lack of self-pity, stole it. Once again, I thought how we came here to share the gospel, to demonstrate the love of the Lord and to minister to the needy. Once again, God turned the tables. Yamuleith did all those things for us.
Karen asked the family if it would be okay for us to stop by on occasion and check to see how Yamuleith was doing. She assured them that we were good people. You know…that’s a funny thing to hear about yourself…someone having to vouch for your character. It’s actually pretty humbling from both perspectives - that someone might be suspicious of our motives and that someone else had to vouch for us. The pastor and his wife cordially said it would be fine. We didn’t stay long that night but it was long enough to know that this young lady was very unique.
The next day, we went to PriceSmart to buy two cans of Sustagen for Karen to give to the family as she was going to run by once more before she left. We all agreed Yamuleith needed better nutrition and thought this might be one way to help supplement her diet while we were gone. She was also supposed to be having more fruits and vegetables added to her diet but we all had our suspicions that probably wasn’t happening much.
Karen had to leave to return to the States two days later – Monday, March 8th. The date is important. We took Karen to the airport and we assured her that we would check on Yamuleith when we returned from the States. She also said that she was going to have Dr. Oliver from CINAFE check on her while we were gone and that she had suggested that he go twice a week.
We flew to the States the following morning and didn’t return until April 1st. Due to the problems we had with our car, we weren’t able to get out until Monday. Tuesday, we took Dr. Oliver with us and we went to check on Yamuleith. I was shocked at how much thinner she looked. I didn’t th
ink that was even possible. We visited briefly with the family an
d Yamuleith and then left.We are in frequent communication with Karen and Dwane – thanks to Skype – and so I mentioned to Karen that I thought Yamuleith looked even thinner. We exchanged pictures that we each had taken of Yamuleith and Karen also thought that she was noticeably thinner. The picture on the left was one that Karen took several months ago. The one that we took last week is on the right. She was in a lot of pain that day but what I want you to see is how thin her arms and legs are. And look at her shoulders and chest...every bone is visible.
We continued to make frequent visits, if not every day, then every other day, often taking a medical supply of some sort or a food item for Yamuleith. We were always well received but my concern continued to grow. We began to see more and more gauze pads decorating her body. They were covering oozing sores.
We were to find out that due to schedule conflict and a leg injury, Dr. Oliver had only been to see Yamuleith a couple of times while we were gone. We found out that she was out of some of her supplies that are used to facilitate her care so we purchased those things and took Dr. Oliver to see her again.
Now here is where my American mindset kicks in…if there’s a problem, we need to “fix” it. And in my mind, there was a problem. I noticed that the rest of the family seemed to be very healthy, several even overweight by Nica standards. I also noticed that there didn’t seem to be a lot of attention being paid to Yamuleith unless we mentioned something about her need, like wanting a drink of water, needing to be readjusted, etc. She seemed to be deteriorating right before our eyes.
If that weren’t enough of a concern, I found ants crawling on her, often onto her open sores. I felt sick at my stomach the first time I saw that. I brushed them off. I tried to rationalize the fact that Nica houses are open and of course, there are ants. And they crawl over every surface possible. The problem is that this was happening to someone who couldn’t brush them off herself, who couldn’t even defend herself from their possible bites. The next day when we returned, small tiny ants were crawling on her as she lay in bed. I began brushing them off again and noticed there were lots of them crawling all over her sheets by the headboard.
I told Erika there were more ants. My voice had to betray my disgust and repulsion. She explained to me that because we (Oliver) didn’t bring the more expensive colostomy bags, that the seal wasn’t tight against her skin and that the ants, as well as flies, were being drawn to the odor. I then asked about what kind of supplies that they needed so that we could get her taken care of so that leakage and odor were no longer a problem.
My immediate thought was that she was being neglected. I was reminded that I don’t see all that goes on nor do I know what it’s like to live in conditions like that. That’s true. But I couldn’t shake my unease. I wanted to make this foster family the bad guys…I wanted to be able to point a finger and shake it, shaming someone, whoever…whoever had been responsible for what Yamuleith was having to endure.
The pastor and Dr. Oliver began to talk about Yamuleith. Oliver speaks very good English so he was translating for us for which I was very thankful. Although I understood much of what was being said, Oliver was able to fill in the details which were crucial in this instance. Without rehashing much of her background, the pastor also said that they had other people (gringos) come who wanted to help with her care but they only would help for awhile.
He said that there was a “missionary” who had come and raised funds locally and in the U.S. to help Yamuleith but ended up taking the money for himself. Pastor Cesar said that he and his family were then accused of taking the money and misusing the funds for themselves. He vehemently denied that. He said that he promised Yamuleith when they found her 15 months ago that he would never abandon her and that they had endured shame and poverty ever since. He said that it is easy for others to be critical of their situation when they are not the ones having to live their life. I immediately felt ashamed for my skepticism. He also told us that in order to bring in better money that he was now working on the Atlantic Coast and was gone for 1 to 2 months at a time. This of course, leaves the burden of care on Erika…who is also busy trying to take care of her own children. While he is gone, she is dependent upon the sale of cooked beans from her house.
Pastor Cesar then pounded the final nail in my shame box. He said that he and Erika knew that we had the spirit of the Lord on us and that we were always welcome in their home at any time, day or night. This was a much more sincere offer than the first time he had welcomed us. He said that he could tell that we had sincere affection and concern for Yamuleith and that we had demonstrated great respect for his family. He said that there had been many big fancy cars pull up in front of his house but our car was the one which always brought help and hope.
He then told us that their dream is that someday, they would like to be able to build a separate room for Yamuleith. He would want a “sealed” room with air conditioning so that they could keep out the ants, flies, dust and humidity. He said she would do much better and that her sores would heal.
We were to find out that due to schedule conflict and a leg injury, Dr. Oliver had only been to see Yamuleith a couple of times while we were gone. We found out that she was out of some of her supplies that are used to facilitate her care so we purchased those things and took Dr. Oliver to see her again.
Now here is where my American mindset kicks in…if there’s a problem, we need to “fix” it. And in my mind, there was a problem. I noticed that the rest of the family seemed to be very healthy, several even overweight by Nica standards. I also noticed that there didn’t seem to be a lot of attention being paid to Yamuleith unless we mentioned something about her need, like wanting a drink of water, needing to be readjusted, etc. She seemed to be deteriorating right before our eyes.
If that weren’t enough of a concern, I found ants crawling on her, often onto her open sores. I felt sick at my stomach the first time I saw that. I brushed them off. I tried to rationalize the fact that Nica houses are open and of course, there are ants. And they crawl over every surface possible. The problem is that this was happening to someone who couldn’t brush them off herself, who couldn’t even defend herself from their possible bites. The next day when we returned, small tiny ants were crawling on her as she lay in bed. I began brushing them off again and noticed there were lots of them crawling all over her sheets by the headboard.
I told Erika there were more ants. My voice had to betray my disgust and repulsion. She explained to me that because we (Oliver) didn’t bring the more expensive colostomy bags, that the seal wasn’t tight against her skin and that the ants, as well as flies, were being drawn to the odor. I then asked about what kind of supplies that they needed so that we could get her taken care of so that leakage and odor were no longer a problem.
My immediate thought was that she was being neglected. I was reminded that I don’t see all that goes on nor do I know what it’s like to live in conditions like that. That’s true. But I couldn’t shake my unease. I wanted to make this foster family the bad guys…I wanted to be able to point a finger and shake it, shaming someone, whoever…whoever had been responsible for what Yamuleith was having to endure.
The pastor and Dr. Oliver began to talk about Yamuleith. Oliver speaks very good English so he was translating for us for which I was very thankful. Although I understood much of what was being said, Oliver was able to fill in the details which were crucial in this instance. Without rehashing much of her background, the pastor also said that they had other people (gringos) come who wanted to help with her care but they only would help for awhile.
He said that there was a “missionary” who had come and raised funds locally and in the U.S. to help Yamuleith but ended up taking the money for himself. Pastor Cesar said that he and his family were then accused of taking the money and misusing the funds for themselves. He vehemently denied that. He said that he promised Yamuleith when they found her 15 months ago that he would never abandon her and that they had endured shame and poverty ever since. He said that it is easy for others to be critical of their situation when they are not the ones having to live their life. I immediately felt ashamed for my skepticism. He also told us that in order to bring in better money that he was now working on the Atlantic Coast and was gone for 1 to 2 months at a time. This of course, leaves the burden of care on Erika…who is also busy trying to take care of her own children. While he is gone, she is dependent upon the sale of cooked beans from her house.
Pastor Cesar then pounded the final nail in my shame box. He said that he and Erika knew that we had the spirit of the Lord on us and that we were always welcome in their home at any time, day or night. This was a much more sincere offer than the first time he had welcomed us. He said that he could tell that we had sincere affection and concern for Yamuleith and that we had demonstrated great respect for his family. He said that there had been many big fancy cars pull up in front of his house but our car was the one which always brought help and hope.
He then told us that their dream is that someday, they would like to be able to build a separate room for Yamuleith. He would want a “sealed” room with air conditioning so that they could keep out the ants, flies, dust and humidity. He said she would do much better and that her sores would heal.
I want to tell you that I was on his side 100% at that moment but I don’t think I was. When I am skeptical of something or someone, I have to admit it runs pretty deep…which is so funny when I think about it because I have been accused in the past of jumping into situations before knowing the whole story. I just kept asking God for wisdom and compassion and that He would reveal truth to me.
I know I was pretty quiet that day on the way home. I told Jim that I was wrestling back and forth with my feelings about the family. One minute, I was frustrated and skeptical and the next minute, I felt so badly that they were struggling like they were. I could not nor can I yet, imagine what it is like to be responsible for someone who requires such extensive care. It is so easy to cast dispersions upon those who don’t measure up to our own expectations…it’s even easier when there’s someone like Yamuleith involved. But I know I can’t cast those stones unless I’m willing to take Yamuleith as my own and to be prepared to devote my own 24 hours a day/7 days a week to her. Physically, I can’t do that. Morally, I can’t do that. She’s not mine to take.
So…what do we do here? Do we just let her waste away? What’s the answer? Do we just praise this family for their sacrifice and continue to see ants crawl over the every-increasing bed sores? Do we test our very young relationship with this family by suggesting that she needs better care and then risk offending them to the point we are not allowed to see Yamuleith again? Where is the balance we need in this situation? Is the ever-coveted “relationship-building” process worth more than Yamuleith’s well-being?
Children like Yamuleith are the ones who fall between the cracks. They’re the messy ones…the ones who cause us to find that it is so much easier to be busy than it is to help; the ones who are uncomfortable to be around; the ones whose unimaginable circumstances interrupt our own comfortableness; the ones who shine a bright glaring light on our “religiosity”.
Oh, it would be so much easier to just drop food off, just drop meds off, smile and drive away. But now, now we can’t do that. Not now. Somehow, we have made some sort of unknown and undefined commitment. By brushing ants off this child’s skin-and-bone body, by wiping her oh-so-feverish brow, by holding her bent and twisted fingers and by answering her pleas for help, it is sealed. We are officially involved. Painfully, tearfully, exhaustingly involved. I will finish this later.
I know I was pretty quiet that day on the way home. I told Jim that I was wrestling back and forth with my feelings about the family. One minute, I was frustrated and skeptical and the next minute, I felt so badly that they were struggling like they were. I could not nor can I yet, imagine what it is like to be responsible for someone who requires such extensive care. It is so easy to cast dispersions upon those who don’t measure up to our own expectations…it’s even easier when there’s someone like Yamuleith involved. But I know I can’t cast those stones unless I’m willing to take Yamuleith as my own and to be prepared to devote my own 24 hours a day/7 days a week to her. Physically, I can’t do that. Morally, I can’t do that. She’s not mine to take.
So…what do we do here? Do we just let her waste away? What’s the answer? Do we just praise this family for their sacrifice and continue to see ants crawl over the every-increasing bed sores? Do we test our very young relationship with this family by suggesting that she needs better care and then risk offending them to the point we are not allowed to see Yamuleith again? Where is the balance we need in this situation? Is the ever-coveted “relationship-building” process worth more than Yamuleith’s well-being?
Children like Yamuleith are the ones who fall between the cracks. They’re the messy ones…the ones who cause us to find that it is so much easier to be busy than it is to help; the ones who are uncomfortable to be around; the ones whose unimaginable circumstances interrupt our own comfortableness; the ones who shine a bright glaring light on our “religiosity”.
Oh, it would be so much easier to just drop food off, just drop meds off, smile and drive away. But now, now we can’t do that. Not now. Somehow, we have made some sort of unknown and undefined commitment. By brushing ants off this child’s skin-and-bone body, by wiping her oh-so-feverish brow, by holding her bent and twisted fingers and by answering her pleas for help, it is sealed. We are officially involved. Painfully, tearfully, exhaustingly involved. I will finish this later.
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