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.