I am establishing a tradition this year focused on the week of Thanksgiving.
As long as I'm able, I will write and share posts during the week of Thanksgiving about being thankful, appreciative and grateful.
Stories, memories, recollections, perhaps sharing a thanks for the first time.
A reminder to myself, an active revisit of the countless times in my life that people have made a difference, that someone made me laugh, that someone held my hand, that someone shared their love, that someone exemplified courage, leadership, kindness, friendship, compassion, humor, honesty, support.
THANKS FROM MY HEART - LILIAN AMPOMAH
She doesn’t recall many occasions in her life when she’s
really been scared.
Not monsters in the closet type of scared, or scared for her
personal safety, but the type of scare that comes from being in situations where
she has no control. The type of
situations where as a front row participant she knows well that there is
urgency and the potential for serious complications.
She was in such a place the firs week of December in 2013.
On an early Friday morning the first week of December, she sat
in a hot, confusing, noisy and crowded emergency room at Ridge Hospital. Ridge, a government facility with a pediatric
ward, is in Accra, the capital city of Ghana. That day she sat on a stiff, worn, wooden chair, next to another stiff wooden worn,
chair. The NGO volunteer, Elena, with the 1st grade student, Lilian.
Elena was anxious to be in such a place, her mind racing and
imaging because she didn’t know what she didn’t know. Her heart and soul racing because she was
responsible for the decision to admit Lilian to the hospital.
Lilian, 7 at the time, anxious because her body was very
weak and lacked oxygen. She was very sick and she wanted to get better. Both were waiting in the ER for Lilian’s name
to be called. They were anxiously waiting for Lilian to be taken back to the
surgery theatre for a chest tube insertion as an out patient procedure.
The procedure when completed would accomplish draining fluid
from Lilian’s right lung. Lilian, a very bright and funny Mawuvio’s first
grader, had an advanced case of plueral effusion. Her small lung compromised; a
heavy dark balloon inside her chest, flooded with liquid. The weight of the
unwelcomed substance pressing against all of her life. Since Tuesday she had been extremely weak. The
sound of her breathing visible, painful whispered groans as her chest cavity
barely moved.
As they both waited, Elena held onto the chest tube kit and
remembered the 90 minute drive the day before from Kissemah Village to Korlebu
Hospital to purchase the kit. She remembered carefully holding onto the
prescription from Dr. Sereboe and hearing the instructions over and over.
“If you can go to
Korlebu and purchase the chest tube, once inserted, it will drain the liquid
from the child’s lung”.
Dr. Sereboe was direct, her tone practical. She meant what
she said and was confident in the results if the tube was inserted. It was like she’d shared the same observation a thousands of times
before. When Dr. Serboe handed Elena the prescription she reminded her, “it has to be a chest tube kit for a child,
not for an adult.”
On the way to Korlebu, Elena prayed over and over in her
head for the surgical pharmacy to have a chest tube kit, the exact size need for Lilian an #18. And on that morning, they did. Halleluiah !
Ninety minutes there and longer to get back, it wasn’t until pass noon the following day that Lilian was readied for the procedure.
As they both waited in the small ER area, Elena assured
Lilian that the tube insertion would not painful. Elena explained to Lilian that the
doctors and nurses would give her medicine, perhaps an injection that would put
her to sleep or make her not feel any pain.
Elena spoke details out loud to Lilian without any idea of
what was actually going to happen. It was hopeful reassurance based on what
Elena would do if she was managing the insertion of the chest tube. Elena was doing everything possible to
audibly share love and calm with the young girl.
Lilian had been through so much already, IV’s, injections,
X-Rays and just the day before, a lung aspiration that made Lilian cry and
scream in ways no parent should have to witness.
Almost ten days of being sick and of Lilian’s family not
knowing the severity of the “cough in her chest”, culminated in this moment in
the ER. Lilian’s family lived in a
cement house in Westland, an area of Accra known as West Legon. The house under
construction, no roof, no windows, no electricity or running water. The 2 story structure, square and naked waiting
to be completed.
Lilian like many children in Ghana, slept on the cold concrete
floor. The cold, damp cement/ a willing accomplice encouraging the virus, the
foreign sickness that invaded her tiny body and took over her right lung.
During their wait in the ER, Elena looked many times into
the child’s eyes and smiled. She held
her hand and assured her that angels were watching over her. Elena reminded
Lilian over and over of how brave and courageous Lilian was. Lilian was a model
In the hospital system, no matter where Lilian was taken,
because she was a child she would always get queued to the front of the line.
This happened at the pharmacy, at the lab and when she got her X-rays. In the ER, the queuing was different. It was based
on the severity of the patient’s symptoms and/or injuries, or at least that is what
seemed to be taking place that day.
Lilian was quiet. Lilian was observant. She sat still. Next to her a large green
oxygen tank, her new friend and soldier. The tank had been
wheeled over to the ER with the help of an orderly and Kwame and Elena. Lilian had given her tank a name, Pumbaa, one of the characters from the Lion King.
The minutes that passed stretched slow. The activity and the volume in the room, a marked contrast to the hands barely moving on the face of a plastic dusty, made in China clock, barely hanging on the wall. Many times Elena held back tears. Tears of anguish, fear, of not knowing what was going to happen when Lilian tube was inserted.
During the exchange of small talk and
observations between the two, Lilian always smiled. The light in her eyes
always present. At one point she looked up
and said to Elena, “Madam, you are also brave to be here with me."
Soon after they called Lilian’s name. A nurse came and
helped Lilian and Pumbaa move to the small room where the procedure would take place. Elena handed the chest tube
kit to the nurse and away they went. The door slowly closed and now Lilian was in the hands of the ER team.
Twenty days after the tube was inserted Lilian was released
from Ridge Hospital. Shortly after that on December 28th, she
celebrated her 8th birthday. During there entire stay in the hospital Lilian only cried once, when her lung as aspirated. Lilian never complained. Unless she was sleeping, she always smiled and the light in her eyes never faded. She spent many days and hours waiting for the fluid to drain. And drain completely, it finally did !
During the recovery in the children’s ward, Lilian became a
spokesperson for other sick children.
She became an ambassador for hope for the families of the other children who were assigned to the same area where Lilian’s bed was. She was a favorite of the doctor’s who made the daily rounds. She completed her school work
and spent many afternoons coloring and reading her favorite story, The Lion
King. She took all her exams for Term 1
and was the top student in her class for the term
