Wednesday, 8 January 2014

A difficult week

As mentioned in my last post, I had an accident to my wrist.  After several days in which it remained swollen and painful, the pastors suggested I get an x-ray done in a local private clinic to check for a fracture.  To my surprise there was an actual fracture.  It was decided that my colleague Christine would take me to a town in Uganda called Gulu which has better facilities than Nimule can offer.  By this stage I had developed a secondary infection in my mouth for which the nurse gave me anti-fungal medication.  I was struggling to eat or drink because of the pain.  In short, I was in a terrible state.

Christine has been a tower of strength, first getting me washed and dressed, which I am finding difficult, more or less force feeding me mashed food, and supporting me through the very difficult journey to Gulu.  She comes from Gulu so she able to mobilise family members to help us there too. 

The road from the Ugandan border to Gulu is a rutted, dusty track, heavily used by lorries going to and from South Sudan. The journey took about four hours.  We were fortunate that Pastor Juma had paid for a private taxi with air-conditioning.  Even so it was agonising as it had poor suspension.  We went direct to the hospital called St Mary’s, locally known as Lachoa.  It is a mission-run hospital which boasts specialist doctors and x-ray equipment, unlike the Nimule counterpart.

After a short wait in A and E a doctor looked at my x-ray and said he could see nothing wrong!  Words can’t describe how I felt.  We went to pay.  The cashier looked at the referral and doctor’s opinion and immediately left her desk to ask the doctor to request a second x-ray.  He agreed so we went to the x-ray department where we were seen immediately.  It turned out that there was a fracture after all, so we were asked to come back the next day to see the orthopaedic surgeon.

Christine called one of her sisters who booked us into a small hotel for the night.  Getting there entailed a bumpy bus ride on more unpaved roads.  We shared a twin bedded room.  I had yet another broken night due to pain.  In the morning we found a currency exchange for me to get some money to pay for the hotel and other expenses.  Then we tried to find something I could eat and finally found a store selling yogurt.  Then we went back to the hospital. 

We saw the orthopaedic surgeon who decided my wrist should be plastered and I should return in six weeks’ time for its removal.  As it was being done I queried the fact that there was no attempt to manipulate the bones back into position (the wrist is askew).  I was told that the breakage is typical of wrist injuries to post-menopausal women.  The hospital lacks the facilities to operate and pin the bone and believes the result would be purely cosmetic anyway.  I was assured that my wrist will be fully functional. 

The ultimate in quiet anonymous hotels
Christine’s sister found us another, cheaper and quieter hotel where I could stay and recuperate ready for the journey back.  During this time Christine worked so hard to find food to build me up.  However my mouth was not improving and I felt very weak.  On the evening before we left Christine’s family invited us to eat.  I was so sorry to be such a bad guest.  They had clearly pulled out all the stops to make a lovely meal which I was completely unable to eat. 

We took a bus back to Nimule on 2nd January.  Thankfully with my wrist stabilised the journey was less painful.  There was no air-con so we all got the full benefit of the dust.  I was completely yellow by the time we arrived at the border.  Christine hailed a taxi.  When we arrived back at Cornerstone the taxi-driver refused our money.  I must have been a pathetic sight!
Bus back to Nimule


Family leaves for Gulu
I decided to take my American missionary friends up on their long-standing invitation to stay with them, so I could get a bit of help to recover with nutritious, mashed food.  As soon as I arrived Eddie took a photo of my open mouth which he sent to a doctor friend.  I got an immediate diagnosis of a viral infection.  Eddie was told the correct medicine and went straight into town in search of it.  To my amazement he found it. 
I stayed several nights, feeling better each day.  The first night after I arrived, they had a late night phone call telling them about the worsening political crisis and advising them to leave.  They spent most of the night packing.  The poor things not only had me to care for, but their three little children, who are too young to be exposed to the worries of the increasing crisis.  In the end they left for Gulu (with great reluctance but at the insistence of their home church in the US) on Sunday.  Eddie is keeping an eye on the situation and will be back, minus family, after looking at the situation.

I owe that family a huge debt of thanks for their help, first with the correct diagnosis and treatment of my mouth infection.  Then nursing me back to relative health.  Suitable food is an issue at Cornerstone, but after a couple of days shopping and cooking for myself I am now fully recovered, at least orally.  

Cornerstone is planning to evacuate to Uganda in the next few days, but is dependent on agreement of finances from their supporting charity in the US.  My next post may be from Adjumani, a town in Uganda, close to the border going south-westwards.