Hi, quick prayer request. We have a little baby boy, 4 months old, who needs a lot of prayer. He had pneumonia, and now has fluctuating fevers and is losing weight. We don´t know what´s wrong, and he is battling to live. Please pray that we can figure it out and give him the treatment he needs.
Thank you!
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
News
Kristin and I have a week left (this week) in our Familias Saludables program in Dos de Diciembre, a town near km 38. It's been so nice to be living at 38 with the rest of our "family" here in Peru. Where we will be stationed for our next program is still to be decided, but will most likely be near Pucallpa.
I was planning to put more pictures up from my lovely vacation, but my flashdrive is toast, thanks to one of the lovely internet cafe computers over here, so pictures might be a little while coming.
Hard to believe I've been in Peru for about 7 months now!
We just picked Willem up from the airport today. He is South African, and is coming to live at km 38 until December. So, we have another addition to the family.
The other newest addition is a guy names Luis, a peruvian who works with the guys in the chacra at 38. Oh, and a new little lamb. So cute.
And, that's the news. Love and miss you all. God bless.
I was planning to put more pictures up from my lovely vacation, but my flashdrive is toast, thanks to one of the lovely internet cafe computers over here, so pictures might be a little while coming.
Hard to believe I've been in Peru for about 7 months now!
We just picked Willem up from the airport today. He is South African, and is coming to live at km 38 until December. So, we have another addition to the family.
The other newest addition is a guy names Luis, a peruvian who works with the guys in the chacra at 38. Oh, and a new little lamb. So cute.
And, that's the news. Love and miss you all. God bless.
Teaching, Learning, Following
Before break, Kristin and I decided to re-vamp our Familias Saludables (Healthy Families) program by teaching classes instead of presenting charlas (health talks). Classes provide much more time to cover important items, enabling us to go much more in depth into each topic, and benefiting the people even more.
Since our original charlas were about 15 minutes long, and each class would be two hours in length, this meant doing a lot more research. And so, the long hours of discovery started: Surfing websites, reading books, creating outlines, and finally printing handouts. I felt like I was back in school.
Finally our classes began, and so did the fun. All the tiring hours and back aches were worth it. To share valuable information about nutrition, hygiene, and water is a big responsibility and an amazing opportunity. It’s wonderful to watch the eager faces and bright eyes of the people as they soak up the information.
Although all the topics we teach are of great importance and very helpful, I have a couple favorites. The first is water, and specifically water as it relates to urinary tract infections. Let me explain. During clinic weeks I work triage, meaning our medical patients see me before Dr. Mathews. My job is to find out what their main problems are, so things go faster with the doctor. Every time a woman comes through, here’s the typical scenario:
“Marisa Vargas Tutusimo,” I call, holding my little triage card and glancing around the room, searching for a face showing some recognition at the name, despite my lacking pronunciation. Finally, after a second call and some laughter at my equally dismal attempt, a shy woman emerges from the corner with a baby on her hip. Her long, shiny black hair is clipped loosely behind her head, and her eyes hold typical Peruvian beauty, subdued only by the tired circles beneath them.
We walk into the little room sectioned off by a piece of cloth and a chalk board and sit at my desk. The baby, chubby with light, malnourished hair and legs full of sores starts to fuss, and the girl breast feeds as I ask why she’s here. As the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I even need to ask. I almost always know what’s coming. Not because I can read women’s minds, but because most women here are suffering from the exact same thing.
Bringing my mind back to our consult, she leans a little closer and tells me how her head hurts constantly, she is dizzy a lot, and feels weak. I nod and write a couple symptoms as I prepare to ask the question I ask every woman who comes through triage complaining of these symptoms of dehydration: “Do you have pain when you urinate?” Her eyes widen for a split second, and in that moment I can see her surprise at being asked, and her relief that there is hope. Placing her work worn 19 year old hand on the table and leaning forward again, she says, “Yes, for three months.” I nod reassuringly, ask a few more questions, and write her diagnosis on the triage card: urinary tract infection.
Most of the people here in the selba (jungle) work in large jungle gardens called chacras, where they grow yucca, platano, pineapples, lemons, mangoes, rice, and other local fruits and vegetables to sell and live on. Waking up at the crack of dawn and returning just before dark, men, women, and even children work using machetes, wooden plows, hoes, and shovels: All this under the hot, sweltering, humid tropical sun; a sun that saps their energy and drinks their sweat. In such a climate dehydration is a deathly reality; not just because of the hot sun, but the lack of water. Despite working twelve hours a day in such heat and humidity, the jungle people drink, on average, one liter of water a day. Not nearly enough. And, for the women this is a double curse. The sun causes dehydration, and dehydration causes urinary tract infections.
Because this is such a large problem here and so easily prevented, I spend a large part of class talking about the importance of drinking water – especially for women. It is very rewarding to help them learn how to deal with and prevent such a painful, wide spread, and dangerous problem.
The other topic I enjoy teaching about is medicine use. “Vitamins, please.” “I need vitamins for anemia.” “My back hurts all the time and I know it’s because I don’t have any vitamins.” “I don’t need anything but vitamins.” I regularly hear these comments and many more like them during clinic week. For whatever reason, cultural or not, Peruvian people are convinced that vitamins are the cure-all. That and the noni-plant – an odd-shaped little fruit that is claimed to heal everything from cancer to hemorrhoids. But, since we don’t have noni, it’s vitamins that are clamored for, over and over again. We meet such requests with good, sound reasoning and explain that their prescription will contain every medicine they need to get better, and whether that happens to be Complejo B (complex B vitamins) or not doesn’t really matter. These explanations are, of course, met with stony, unwavering faces and short, impatient “yah’s,” making it clear that they feel insulted at our stupidity.
Vitamins aren’t the only pill we have problems with. In fact, in our visitations with the people, Kristin and I have discovered a number of people who have many misguided, and a few very strange, beliefs about medication. Here are a few of them:
If a medicine causes side effects (not harmful, just annoying), you should stop taking it.
Once a medicine starts making you feel better, you don’t need it anymore.
Because of these beliefs, many times the patients we treat during clinic week stop taking their medications. However, realistically, who can blame them? They have been taught to be their own doctors and pharmacists: You can go to any corner mom and pop shop and find Tetracycline, Diazepam, and Tylenol stacked neatly on the shelf waiting to be sold to whoever decides they need them, and in whatever quantity.
These issues and more are discussed in class, and the people are given opportunity to explore them and learn safer, more effective ways to use medicines.
Urinary tract infections, water, how to use medicines, and many more topics fill my hours, days, and weeks, as I laugh, learn, and share with the people of Peru. I am so thankful for this opportunity. Being welcomed into the hearts, homes, and culture of the Peruvians is something very special. It is an opportunity few people experience, and turns my thoughts to the Great Teacher. After all, Jesus as our perfect example spent much of His time on this earth healing, helping, and teaching: Meeting people’s physical needs as well as spiritual. What a blessing to be walking in the steps of the Savior.
Since our original charlas were about 15 minutes long, and each class would be two hours in length, this meant doing a lot more research. And so, the long hours of discovery started: Surfing websites, reading books, creating outlines, and finally printing handouts. I felt like I was back in school.
Finally our classes began, and so did the fun. All the tiring hours and back aches were worth it. To share valuable information about nutrition, hygiene, and water is a big responsibility and an amazing opportunity. It’s wonderful to watch the eager faces and bright eyes of the people as they soak up the information.
Although all the topics we teach are of great importance and very helpful, I have a couple favorites. The first is water, and specifically water as it relates to urinary tract infections. Let me explain. During clinic weeks I work triage, meaning our medical patients see me before Dr. Mathews. My job is to find out what their main problems are, so things go faster with the doctor. Every time a woman comes through, here’s the typical scenario:
“Marisa Vargas Tutusimo,” I call, holding my little triage card and glancing around the room, searching for a face showing some recognition at the name, despite my lacking pronunciation. Finally, after a second call and some laughter at my equally dismal attempt, a shy woman emerges from the corner with a baby on her hip. Her long, shiny black hair is clipped loosely behind her head, and her eyes hold typical Peruvian beauty, subdued only by the tired circles beneath them.
We walk into the little room sectioned off by a piece of cloth and a chalk board and sit at my desk. The baby, chubby with light, malnourished hair and legs full of sores starts to fuss, and the girl breast feeds as I ask why she’s here. As the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I even need to ask. I almost always know what’s coming. Not because I can read women’s minds, but because most women here are suffering from the exact same thing.
Bringing my mind back to our consult, she leans a little closer and tells me how her head hurts constantly, she is dizzy a lot, and feels weak. I nod and write a couple symptoms as I prepare to ask the question I ask every woman who comes through triage complaining of these symptoms of dehydration: “Do you have pain when you urinate?” Her eyes widen for a split second, and in that moment I can see her surprise at being asked, and her relief that there is hope. Placing her work worn 19 year old hand on the table and leaning forward again, she says, “Yes, for three months.” I nod reassuringly, ask a few more questions, and write her diagnosis on the triage card: urinary tract infection.
Most of the people here in the selba (jungle) work in large jungle gardens called chacras, where they grow yucca, platano, pineapples, lemons, mangoes, rice, and other local fruits and vegetables to sell and live on. Waking up at the crack of dawn and returning just before dark, men, women, and even children work using machetes, wooden plows, hoes, and shovels: All this under the hot, sweltering, humid tropical sun; a sun that saps their energy and drinks their sweat. In such a climate dehydration is a deathly reality; not just because of the hot sun, but the lack of water. Despite working twelve hours a day in such heat and humidity, the jungle people drink, on average, one liter of water a day. Not nearly enough. And, for the women this is a double curse. The sun causes dehydration, and dehydration causes urinary tract infections.
Because this is such a large problem here and so easily prevented, I spend a large part of class talking about the importance of drinking water – especially for women. It is very rewarding to help them learn how to deal with and prevent such a painful, wide spread, and dangerous problem.
The other topic I enjoy teaching about is medicine use. “Vitamins, please.” “I need vitamins for anemia.” “My back hurts all the time and I know it’s because I don’t have any vitamins.” “I don’t need anything but vitamins.” I regularly hear these comments and many more like them during clinic week. For whatever reason, cultural or not, Peruvian people are convinced that vitamins are the cure-all. That and the noni-plant – an odd-shaped little fruit that is claimed to heal everything from cancer to hemorrhoids. But, since we don’t have noni, it’s vitamins that are clamored for, over and over again. We meet such requests with good, sound reasoning and explain that their prescription will contain every medicine they need to get better, and whether that happens to be Complejo B (complex B vitamins) or not doesn’t really matter. These explanations are, of course, met with stony, unwavering faces and short, impatient “yah’s,” making it clear that they feel insulted at our stupidity.
Vitamins aren’t the only pill we have problems with. In fact, in our visitations with the people, Kristin and I have discovered a number of people who have many misguided, and a few very strange, beliefs about medication. Here are a few of them:
If a medicine causes side effects (not harmful, just annoying), you should stop taking it.
Once a medicine starts making you feel better, you don’t need it anymore.
Because of these beliefs, many times the patients we treat during clinic week stop taking their medications. However, realistically, who can blame them? They have been taught to be their own doctors and pharmacists: You can go to any corner mom and pop shop and find Tetracycline, Diazepam, and Tylenol stacked neatly on the shelf waiting to be sold to whoever decides they need them, and in whatever quantity.
These issues and more are discussed in class, and the people are given opportunity to explore them and learn safer, more effective ways to use medicines.
Urinary tract infections, water, how to use medicines, and many more topics fill my hours, days, and weeks, as I laugh, learn, and share with the people of Peru. I am so thankful for this opportunity. Being welcomed into the hearts, homes, and culture of the Peruvians is something very special. It is an opportunity few people experience, and turns my thoughts to the Great Teacher. After all, Jesus as our perfect example spent much of His time on this earth healing, helping, and teaching: Meeting people’s physical needs as well as spiritual. What a blessing to be walking in the steps of the Savior.
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