In the waiting room...

Many of you continue to pray for and to ask about Kenneth.  This past week’s appointment was such a good encouraging visit for him in the respect that the palliative care doctor said that she’s so impressed with how well he is maintaining.  She did stress that he was maintaining and not improving.  His weight seems to have stabilized the last few months and his energy level remains good considering the cancer.  Now that he’s taking the morphine along with his other pain medication and as long as he stays on schedule with those, his pain rarely gets out of hand.  His appetite has returned and so he’s back to eating like he should…it’s only the occasional bouts of nausea or a more intense level of pain that seem to throw his appetite off.  

We continue to praise God for the work we see Him doing in Kenneth and through him.  Dr. Ortiz made sure to tell Danelia and us this time that she, too, believes in God and that she also believes in miracles but she made it very clear that she is a doctor first and that she believes in medicine and the work it does and that nothing has changed with Kenneth’s condition.  I’m praying that God will do a complete healing in Kenneth and use him to teach her that she needs to reverse the order of those beliefs!  But whether the Lord chooses to do that or not, we don’t doubt for one minute that as long as he’s drawing breath, God has a plan for him and we’re so privileged to have him as part of our lives.

We are always worth a few good stares from both parents and children who may not be used to seeing us sitting in the waiting room.  There are a few of the children who seem to be afraid of all of this white skin being so close to them but for the most part, the kids are extremely curious about us.  So, we often feel as though we’re on display.  This observation was reinforced to us during this hospital visit.

Kenneth became very bored early on this visit.  He tired quickly of the cartoons that they were showing on the television and he lost interest in the coloring things I had brought for them.  We did the routine thumb wrestling until that also got old.  Finally, I asked him if he knew how to play “Roca, Papel, Tijeras” (Rock, Paper, Scissors) and he told me no.  So, I explained it to him and Jim and I demonstrated how to play it. 

   

It was a new and fun game and before long, I realized that the children were starting to gather around and watch while Kenneth and I played.  I asked them if they wanted to learn how to play and they all said no but I watched them try to make the shapes with their hands.  So, I just told them to try it and I would help them.  Before long, we had “Roca, Papel, Tijeras” games going on all around us!  What was really funny was that when I first started playing with Kenneth, I would wrap my “paper” around his “rock” to show him how that constituted a win.  I also took my “rock” to break his “scissors” and took my “scissors” to cut his paper.  Well, watching the other kids play, I saw them do the same thing, imitating everything I had been doing to teach Kenneth.  This drove the point home even more that we are always being watched and how important it is that we are conscious to always show Christ at all times.     

The down side to this week’s visit was seeing one of our favorite boys that we’ve gotten to know at the hospital.  Luis is the same age as Kenneth and they were roommates during one of Kenneth’s hospital stays.  Luis and his family live about 5 ½ hours away.  They are a poor family but Luis’ has a priceless smile.  He grins from ear to ear and we are always glad when we happen to see him in the waiting room…that is until we remember why he’s there.  Luis has 4 younger siblings, one being a six-month old baby.  His papá, a quiet, gentle man, is always the one to bring him for his appointments due to the long bus ride and so his wife can stay home with the other children.  His father works on a finca, harvesting and separating corn…it is hard work and pays very little.

  

For the last few years, Luis has consistently looked stronger and healthier than Kenneth.  And even when we saw him last August, the last time we saw him before we came back to the States for furlough, Luis still looked good.  That’s why we were so shocked and saddened to realize that the horribly thin little boy with the gaunt face and dull eyes standing before us was Luis.  His cancer had come back with a vengeance and it was ravishing his poor little body.  When I looked at his papa, I realized he had the same empty look in his eyes that I saw in Luis’s…I thought I was going to cry on the spot.  It’s never easy to go in to the waiting room in the cancer ward…but somehow, seeing a child we had come to know and care for take such a dramatic downward turn in such a short time really hit me hard.

His father told us that they had been at the hospital for the last 20 days, staying in the housing area (a dorm type system) that is provided for those like Luis who are there for extended outpatient treatment or for parents to rest while their children are patients.  The doctors were trying to get Luis’ blood counts where they needed to be so they could start chemo again.  But, his numbers weren’t going in the right direction.  They were there that day to find out what that day’s blood work showed.  If the numbers still weren’t where they needed to be for treatment, they were going to send them back home and have them just get what treatment they could if and when his counts improved.  Even before Luis had his appointment that afternoon, I think we all knew that there was not going to be any treatment and that most likely, his counts are not going to improve.  

When Luis and his father went in to Dr. Mendieta’s office, Jim and I just looked at each other.  Normally, the time the doctors spend with their patients is no more than 10-15 minutes, going over that morning’s blood work and then writing scripts for whatever medications might be needed.  Occasionally, a doctor will spend a little longer and we find that happens quite often with Dr. Ortiz and Kenneth as she seems to be very thorough in discussing things with Danelia.  Dr. Mendieta is not known to spend that extra time with his patients.  It was almost thirty minutes later, when Luis walked out of his office with his head hung down.  His father stayed in the office.  Luis didn’t even smile at us when he walked by us to go over to another office across the hallway.  Finally, his father came out and even behind his sunglasses and his hat pulled down low, we could see the face of a man who was shaken to his core.  

Danelia went and talked with him for a few minutes and then came back and told us that they were sending Luis home and that things didn’t look good at all.  Luis not only looked bad, he was bad.  She also told us that his father had stayed so long in Managua that he had lost his job at the finca.  She said that he was going to have to take the regular bus back home because they didn’t have the money for the express bus which would cut the travel time by a couple of hours and he didn’t know if Luis felt strong enough for the bus ride that day.  He hadn’t felt like eating that day.

Jim and I were just sick over the news.  We have really come to care for this brave young man…who is just one of many brave children that we see each time we go…too many.  I had asked Jim when they went in to see the doctor if we could send some money home with Luis’ papá and of course, he agreed without hesitation.  Thankfully, I try to keep a little extra tucked away in a pocket in my purse and so I discreetly got it out and tucked it in my jeans’ pocket.  When his father went out in the hallway to find Luis, I followed him.  I asked him what the doctor said and he told me in a very shaky voice.  He indicated that the papers in his left hand were prescriptions for medications and the paper in his right hand was for the hospital nearest their home town.  I got the feeling that he probably didn’t read well and that he was repeating instructions from Dr. Mendieta.  

When I replied that we thought a great deal of Luis and that we would be praying for him, I realized my own voice wasn’t nearly as strong as I had wished it would have been.  His father just looked down at the paperwork in his hands and nodded.  I took his hand in mine and pressed the money in to it.  He was shocked at first that I would reach for his hand but I think he was even more shocked at what I had left in it.  I told him that he was to use that to buy food for his family or medicines for Luis.  He simply nodded his head and agreement and rasped out a teary “Gracias.”  I walked back in to the waiting room and sat down next to Jim, with that sick, hollow feeling you get when you know that things just aren’t going to go the way that you really want them to go in situations like this.  

And that’s how some days go in the waiting room at the cancer ward for children.