Hospital Ministry

One of the things His Cherished Ones does outside of the baby house is hospital ministry at the nearby Provincial hospital. George, my ministry assistant, and/or I will go one or two times a week to visit patients and check on friends in the hospital. 


Hospitals here are VERY different from American hospitals. It is common thought that you go to hospitals to die. Very true. If you saw the hospitals here you would probably realize the reality of that thought.

 The wards are usually over crowded, people often sharing beds. This was taken of an empty ward, but even in wards that are being used, there is no more medical equipment. Just this. 

People are often abandoned, left to die in the hospital. Others are there, waiting, because they cannot afford to pay for their treatment. Still others are trapped there because they cannot pay their bill. Even if they are discharged, they cannot leave until their bill is paid. 


People need help. They need money. They need medical care. They need to be remembered. They need hope. 


We have a few friends who we help in different ways. We have paid the balance of Steven's bill so that he can be transferred to a vision treatment center. He has recently gone blind from complications from illness. We have bought medicine and paid for additional treatment for the Turkana mzee, Robert, who has a tumor in his stomach. We have brought blankets, clothes and bathing items for Emmanuel, the 2 year old baby boy with TB and meningitis who was abandoned by his mom almost 6 months ago. We bathe him, then sit and hold him. These are the types of things we do at the hospital. We remember people...and let them know that they are not forogtten.


A few weeks ago we took some visitor friends with us to visit. I don't take pictures there. And I ask people not to take pictures. I really have a hard time seeing people being treated like objects of picture ops. But this day was different. It was something I had never seen, and I knew it was something the patient would want to remember. 

As I was talking to another patient, Ali, I heard the familiar sound of a moaning man from the bed just across from where I was. At first I did not even look up. But as it grew louder I glanced up and saw an unfamiliar sight. A mzungu (white person) - my mzungu friend - was putting an IV into the man.

Ashley is a nurse in Houston. When the doctor went over to put in a line for this patient, Ashley simply asked him if she could do it. She told him, "I'm a nurse in America." The next thing I knew, she was asking for a pair of gloves and was inserting the IV tube. The patient's father was beaming. This was a huge privilege and exciting moment for them - a mzungu was treating his son! And I knew it would also be a memory that Ashley would want to remember, so I asked if I could take pictures. The father of the patient asked if he could be in the picture. 

Isn't it crazy how easily and quickly a doctor handed that over? Just when I think I have seen enough in this country that things don't surprise me anymore, I prove myself wrong. 

Thanks to all of you who support HCO so that we can support others. Simply our presense makes a difference to people, reminding them that God remembers them and loves them, but helping with their physical needs gives them a picture of Jesus that they also need to see. Once again, it takes the whole community of Christ. Thank you to the partners of HCO who are part of that community of Christ! You ARE making a difference in the life of someone in need!