This past week has been quite possibly the worst week I have ever had in Ghana.
Last Friday:
---4am: I started vomiting (first major problem), no pure water to rinse my mouth with after vomiting.
---4:30-night: other bodily issues, body pains, high fever (Ghanaian heat <3 )
---6:30pm: Hospital visit #1; tested for malaria; diagnosis:"Well we are not sure if you have malaria...your results weren't clear...so we will treat you for a stomach infection but if your fever and body pains don't go away within two days come back because that means you definitely have malaria and we have to treat you"
Saturday:
---Morning: slightly better; no more vomitting, other bodily issues had calmed down
---Night: Tried eating rice; nausea came back, had to sleep immediately so I didn't vomit everywhere
Sunday:
---all day: not able to eat except for a few crackers before my antibiotics, almost got sick each time I ate, fever and body pains gone
Monday:
---all day: same as Sunday
---overnight: no sleep, upset stomach again
Tuesday:
---Morning: woke up with stomach bloated out like I was pregnant-most of bodily issues had come back
---8:30am: Hospital visit #2; more lab tests; re-diagnosed as possibly having worms
---Afternoon/early evening: excruciating pain from the pressure inside my stomach/intestines, thought my stomach was going to explode
---8pm: Took my one dose of de-worming medicine and went to sleep as instructed by the doctor
Wednesday:
---7am: Woke up and my stomach felt better so I had clearly had worms that were now killed, tried going into work but was so tired I couldn't sit up
---afternoon: slept the rest of the day
---evening: fever came back with swollen glands
Thursday (Today):
Glands still swollen, can't tell if fever is back cause I am drowning it with fever reducer...ate my first meal in 6 days.
And all of this right after that newspaper article just came out in Glen Ellyn with me stating "I never get sick in Ghana...its pretty amazing"...serves me right
I might have officially screwed up my back by lying on that hard bed for the past week but hopefully it will go in time.
I have missed home more than I ever thought possible in the past week.
However, I have never felt as supported by friends and family back home. The amount of text messages, phone calls, bbms, facebook messages, e-mails etc. is something that I am eternally grateful for.
Hopefully I will continue to get better and be back to my normal crazy, busy self in no time at all.
Finally, I just wanted to point out a few things that made my week bearable which were 3 quotes from two friends:
After being told I was being de-wormed:
Peter Evans said "awe, its like you are pregnant"
Chris Getman said "I think I've had to give my dog de-worming medicine. what is going on with that?"
And then finally, an explanation of why I am in in such agony:
Peter Evans (again!): "you swallowed a worm that is now feeding like its thanksgiving?"
Excuse my poorly written blog, my writing is not quite up to par yet.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Happy Mother's Day
According to most Ghanaians I know- I am a mother- of over a hundred children.
I've never felt like I have had much of a motherly instinct but my time spent in Ghana has slowly proved me wrong.
I first realized it when one of the U12 players told me "Claire, you are going to be a good mother" When I kind of laughed and asked why,he said "You would do anything for us and we aren't even your children"
Corny-yes; but true. I would do anything for these kids.
There is such a need for mothers around the world. There are so many children looking for someone to fill that space where their mother should be. Deep down, I know there is no replacement for a mother and I know that what I am doing does not even begin to resemble the unbelievable unconditional love someones own mother gives-but I will try.
I just can't wait for the day I can officially adopt one of these kids and fill the role to the best of my ability-despite the fact it will never be as good as their real mother.
Until then- I will continue to love these children more than I love myself.
Happy Mother's Day!
P.S. Today I gave out my first business card that wasn't written on a scrap piece of paper...pretty exciting!!!
Amazing smoothies:
Me and Vero:
Me and Precious: my youngest sister
I've never felt like I have had much of a motherly instinct but my time spent in Ghana has slowly proved me wrong.
I first realized it when one of the U12 players told me "Claire, you are going to be a good mother" When I kind of laughed and asked why,he said "You would do anything for us and we aren't even your children"
Corny-yes; but true. I would do anything for these kids.
There is such a need for mothers around the world. There are so many children looking for someone to fill that space where their mother should be. Deep down, I know there is no replacement for a mother and I know that what I am doing does not even begin to resemble the unbelievable unconditional love someones own mother gives-but I will try.
I just can't wait for the day I can officially adopt one of these kids and fill the role to the best of my ability-despite the fact it will never be as good as their real mother.
Until then- I will continue to love these children more than I love myself.
Happy Mother's Day!
P.S. Today I gave out my first business card that wasn't written on a scrap piece of paper...pretty exciting!!!
Amazing smoothies:
Me and Vero:
Me and Precious: my youngest sister
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Clean feet and a fully charged battery
My time at home was as I imagined...refreshing, relaxing, and just what I needed.
I selfishly ate four meals a day, even when I wasn't hungry.
I spent much needed time with family and friends that helped me pick up the pieces of my brokenness as I prepared myself to love at full speed for the next two months.
I got off the plane in Accra, Ghana with clean feet and a fully charged battery to keep going with the other half of my life.
The transition was smoother than I ever could have imagined. I dropped my bags at the house and headed to the football pitch since my phone had already rang five times since I had gotten off the plane...I was an hour later than I had said...they were letting me know.
I spent Friday afternoon sleeping on the ash foam mattress in the Cantonments Club House. The boys were coming and going throughout the day and I just happily fell in and out of sleep feeling completely at home.
I am a lucky girl. Everywhere I go I get to reunite with people I can't imagine my life without.
My headache came that afternoon and lasted until Monday afternoon but I think that was just a sign to take it easy.
I slept 14 hours on sat. night and after church with Awuni and Ishmael I spent all day Sunday with my host family. Our neighbors were having a naming ceremony/party in the street for their newborn baby girl.
Monday was a holiday so I headed to the orphanage after saying a quick prayer for God to guard my heart...he did. For the first time since coming to Ghana in January I just sat with the kids talking for hours. It was just what I needed. I ignored all calls from Cantonments and gave my full attention to the ones who originally captured my heart.
Monday late afternoon I headed home and sat with Catherine in our room reading our books together. Her mom called us to the kitchen later for some sliced up mangoes and then we finished the night off by cooking together. It felt like summer days I used to have when I was about 10. Perfect.
Everything about the past four days of being back here has been wonderful. I have spent a good amount of time talking to our neighbors and having deep conversations about the difference between joy and happiness: the best example I could make was asking the man I was speaking to if he would feel the same thing when 1)his daughter was born and 2) he was watching Messi play football--sadly he said he would have the same feeling--its ok, he clearly has issues--for those of you who can't figure it out #1 is the joy and #2 is the happiness.
I explained that money may be able to bring you happiness but never joy. Happiness is temporary but joy is sustaining and what allows us to survive.
It is amazing what clean feet and a fully charged battery can do for a girl.
I am joyful.
Me and Okos/Elvis:
Me and Asa:
I selfishly ate four meals a day, even when I wasn't hungry.
I spent much needed time with family and friends that helped me pick up the pieces of my brokenness as I prepared myself to love at full speed for the next two months.
I got off the plane in Accra, Ghana with clean feet and a fully charged battery to keep going with the other half of my life.
The transition was smoother than I ever could have imagined. I dropped my bags at the house and headed to the football pitch since my phone had already rang five times since I had gotten off the plane...I was an hour later than I had said...they were letting me know.
I spent Friday afternoon sleeping on the ash foam mattress in the Cantonments Club House. The boys were coming and going throughout the day and I just happily fell in and out of sleep feeling completely at home.
I am a lucky girl. Everywhere I go I get to reunite with people I can't imagine my life without.
My headache came that afternoon and lasted until Monday afternoon but I think that was just a sign to take it easy.
I slept 14 hours on sat. night and after church with Awuni and Ishmael I spent all day Sunday with my host family. Our neighbors were having a naming ceremony/party in the street for their newborn baby girl.
Monday was a holiday so I headed to the orphanage after saying a quick prayer for God to guard my heart...he did. For the first time since coming to Ghana in January I just sat with the kids talking for hours. It was just what I needed. I ignored all calls from Cantonments and gave my full attention to the ones who originally captured my heart.
Monday late afternoon I headed home and sat with Catherine in our room reading our books together. Her mom called us to the kitchen later for some sliced up mangoes and then we finished the night off by cooking together. It felt like summer days I used to have when I was about 10. Perfect.
Everything about the past four days of being back here has been wonderful. I have spent a good amount of time talking to our neighbors and having deep conversations about the difference between joy and happiness: the best example I could make was asking the man I was speaking to if he would feel the same thing when 1)his daughter was born and 2) he was watching Messi play football--sadly he said he would have the same feeling--its ok, he clearly has issues--for those of you who can't figure it out #1 is the joy and #2 is the happiness.
I explained that money may be able to bring you happiness but never joy. Happiness is temporary but joy is sustaining and what allows us to survive.
It is amazing what clean feet and a fully charged battery can do for a girl.
I am joyful.
Me and Okos/Elvis:
Me and Asa:
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Paradox
Some of the best times come with lights out (for those of you who don't know lights out means that the power is out).
Lying as still as you can as to not feel the heat...but still feeling the sweat drip off your body and sink into the 1 inch ash foam mattress beneath you.
But it is these times when the whole family gathers in the living room. Spreading out a sheet on the cool tile they all lie down to sleep...but it is only 7PM
Since it is still early in the night there is laughing that echoes through the house into the back room where Catherine (age 16) and I are...Catherine is on the ground with a straw mat and I am in my bed pressing my body against the window hoping for air.
We can hear Precious (age 9), Priscilla (age 13), Vero (my Ghanaian mom), Prince (my Ghanaian dad) praying and singing praise songs. Although they can't seem to make it through a prayer or song due to the fact that Precious is either imitating an over enthusiastic Ghanaian pastor or attempting to sing the bass line of a song.
Catherine and I are bursting into fits of laughter from our room listening to all the commotion.
But there is something so comforting about this. It reminds me of the days my brothers and I used to yell room to room late at night...mostly when my parents were out of town and we would have Jess Fischer staying with us. Or when we would all cram into my parents bed and no one would get any sleep because of all the giggling and shoving that would take place.
Family, love, and laughter heal pain. I am so thankful for that.
I have been having a lot of encouraging conversations in the past few days. A lot of conversations around allowing the pain I feel to be turned into love. That each time I feel pain, I need to be able to outwardly express it as love.
"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Mother Teresa
This morning I am thankful.
I will be home in 4 days for a week break...my body is aching for that week break. :)
A picture of my sisters last May and their cousin. (Back left is cousin Lorattia, back middle is Priscilla, back right is Catherine, front and center (like her personality) Precious):
Lying as still as you can as to not feel the heat...but still feeling the sweat drip off your body and sink into the 1 inch ash foam mattress beneath you.
But it is these times when the whole family gathers in the living room. Spreading out a sheet on the cool tile they all lie down to sleep...but it is only 7PM
Since it is still early in the night there is laughing that echoes through the house into the back room where Catherine (age 16) and I are...Catherine is on the ground with a straw mat and I am in my bed pressing my body against the window hoping for air.
We can hear Precious (age 9), Priscilla (age 13), Vero (my Ghanaian mom), Prince (my Ghanaian dad) praying and singing praise songs. Although they can't seem to make it through a prayer or song due to the fact that Precious is either imitating an over enthusiastic Ghanaian pastor or attempting to sing the bass line of a song.
Catherine and I are bursting into fits of laughter from our room listening to all the commotion.
But there is something so comforting about this. It reminds me of the days my brothers and I used to yell room to room late at night...mostly when my parents were out of town and we would have Jess Fischer staying with us. Or when we would all cram into my parents bed and no one would get any sleep because of all the giggling and shoving that would take place.
Family, love, and laughter heal pain. I am so thankful for that.
I have been having a lot of encouraging conversations in the past few days. A lot of conversations around allowing the pain I feel to be turned into love. That each time I feel pain, I need to be able to outwardly express it as love.
"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Mother Teresa
This morning I am thankful.
I will be home in 4 days for a week break...my body is aching for that week break. :)
A picture of my sisters last May and their cousin. (Back left is cousin Lorattia, back middle is Priscilla, back right is Catherine, front and center (like her personality) Precious):
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Hot Saliva before you vomit
Friday and Saturday brought a bad mood.
Sunday and Monday brought a lack of interest- No desire to be in the house, at the football pitch, at work, or at the orphanage.
But still, I could feel no sadness. I was numb, I had never felt that before, I felt nothing.
Even talking to a friend on the phone yesterday my words were hollow. I spoke about Yaw’s death as if it were a television show-maybe with even less passion than that.
Even today the lack of interest persisted but I forced myself to go to the football pitch.
But it was tonight that the numbness started to fade.
After leaving the football pitch I ran into Laurie (the woman who is adopting from Osu Children’s Home). It was inevitable-she brought up Yaw. After learning that I hadn’t even found out until a week after his death AND from a volunteer who blurted it out like it were the score of a football match she started apologizing. She was torn that she had forgotten to call me and that’s when she started telling me the story:
She said that he had fallen out of his wheelchair a few days earlier; that he had cut his mouth open when he hit the pavement-
They took him to the doctor for his cut but he was in too much pain to eat-he was starving-
Two days after his fall she could see his soul leaving him-he was hollow- “he just looked so tired and needed to let go”
Thursday night he died in his sleep-
As they took his body away, Laurie gathered the boys for a prayer-they clapped for Yaw and released him to God.
This is when the numbness started to go. She stood up from her chair and embraced me. I felt my body convulse as she squeezed me as if she were the only thing keeping me together. She told me to let it out but I couldn’t. I clenched my teeth, swallowed the lump in my throat, and squeezed my eyes shut so that the tears wouldn’t come.
It is like right before you vomit when the hot saliva comes. Once you taste that hot saliva you know that it is only a matter of time before you vomit. How many times can you swallow that hot saliva before you throw up?
But I need to keep swallowing until I get home on Tuesday.
I can feel it rising within me; not just the pain from Yaw’s death but the feelings I have been swallowing about the kids at the home and my crumbling relationships with them. Flashes of when Victor died come to my mind and I am reminded of the paralyzing sadness that controlled me for months. I feel the anger, and sadness, and pain, and jealousy of other volunteers that have replaced me begin to rise up in my throat like bile.
Yesterday I didn’t think I would ever feel it; that I had just become used to death; but tonight as I prepare to go to sleep I will continue to swallow this hot saliva praying that I can make it a week before I vomit.
Sunday and Monday brought a lack of interest- No desire to be in the house, at the football pitch, at work, or at the orphanage.
But still, I could feel no sadness. I was numb, I had never felt that before, I felt nothing.
Even talking to a friend on the phone yesterday my words were hollow. I spoke about Yaw’s death as if it were a television show-maybe with even less passion than that.
Even today the lack of interest persisted but I forced myself to go to the football pitch.
But it was tonight that the numbness started to fade.
After leaving the football pitch I ran into Laurie (the woman who is adopting from Osu Children’s Home). It was inevitable-she brought up Yaw. After learning that I hadn’t even found out until a week after his death AND from a volunteer who blurted it out like it were the score of a football match she started apologizing. She was torn that she had forgotten to call me and that’s when she started telling me the story:
She said that he had fallen out of his wheelchair a few days earlier; that he had cut his mouth open when he hit the pavement-
They took him to the doctor for his cut but he was in too much pain to eat-he was starving-
Two days after his fall she could see his soul leaving him-he was hollow- “he just looked so tired and needed to let go”
Thursday night he died in his sleep-
As they took his body away, Laurie gathered the boys for a prayer-they clapped for Yaw and released him to God.
This is when the numbness started to go. She stood up from her chair and embraced me. I felt my body convulse as she squeezed me as if she were the only thing keeping me together. She told me to let it out but I couldn’t. I clenched my teeth, swallowed the lump in my throat, and squeezed my eyes shut so that the tears wouldn’t come.
It is like right before you vomit when the hot saliva comes. Once you taste that hot saliva you know that it is only a matter of time before you vomit. How many times can you swallow that hot saliva before you throw up?
But I need to keep swallowing until I get home on Tuesday.
I can feel it rising within me; not just the pain from Yaw’s death but the feelings I have been swallowing about the kids at the home and my crumbling relationships with them. Flashes of when Victor died come to my mind and I am reminded of the paralyzing sadness that controlled me for months. I feel the anger, and sadness, and pain, and jealousy of other volunteers that have replaced me begin to rise up in my throat like bile.
Yesterday I didn’t think I would ever feel it; that I had just become used to death; but tonight as I prepare to go to sleep I will continue to swallow this hot saliva praying that I can make it a week before I vomit.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Easy Silence
I might as well just say it:
Last Friday Yaw from Osu Children's Home died. I just found out last night. No one knows what he died of, probably neglect.
I am numb, probably because my body knows that if it lets me feel I won't be able to handle the pain that comes with letting it in. It will consume me.
So I will put one foot in front of the other and keep walking.
Yaw two years ago when I first met him:
Yaw last year:
Yaw this year:
"Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess"
Last Friday Yaw from Osu Children's Home died. I just found out last night. No one knows what he died of, probably neglect.
I am numb, probably because my body knows that if it lets me feel I won't be able to handle the pain that comes with letting it in. It will consume me.
So I will put one foot in front of the other and keep walking.
Yaw two years ago when I first met him:
Yaw last year:
Yaw this year:
"Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess"
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
With me today, tomorrow I'll be stronger
Today is one of those days that I just can't stop smiling...
I am not sure why exactly, maybe because it is baseball season back home, maybe its cause I am listening to good music while plugging away at work, maybe its cause I am coming home for a week in 2 weeks, or maybe there is no particular reason behind it...
I am so lucky that my love for Ghana has not faded over time...in fact; it has done nothing but grow.
I have watched people struggle and fight for that love that they once had as they watch it slip through their fingers, I only hope that my fire that continues to grow can re-ignite the fires inside some of those people who are losing hope.
Ghana makes me a better person. I become more laid back and extraordinarily positive, and for any of you who know me...this is a pretty miraculous thing.
It doesn't take away my intensity and passion but it takes the edge off of that intensity...the part of my intensity that is my greatest weakness is reduced...it is just the positive side of my drive that shines through.
It is strange to me that I am a positive person here...at home I can get sucked into such a negative place and complain about everything but here I seem to rise above it all and give encouragement to those who are normally positive but can't seem to find their strength.
This is my favorite tree and bench in all of Ghana, it is perfect:
I am not sure why exactly, maybe because it is baseball season back home, maybe its cause I am listening to good music while plugging away at work, maybe its cause I am coming home for a week in 2 weeks, or maybe there is no particular reason behind it...
I am so lucky that my love for Ghana has not faded over time...in fact; it has done nothing but grow.
I have watched people struggle and fight for that love that they once had as they watch it slip through their fingers, I only hope that my fire that continues to grow can re-ignite the fires inside some of those people who are losing hope.
Ghana makes me a better person. I become more laid back and extraordinarily positive, and for any of you who know me...this is a pretty miraculous thing.
It doesn't take away my intensity and passion but it takes the edge off of that intensity...the part of my intensity that is my greatest weakness is reduced...it is just the positive side of my drive that shines through.
It is strange to me that I am a positive person here...at home I can get sucked into such a negative place and complain about everything but here I seem to rise above it all and give encouragement to those who are normally positive but can't seem to find their strength.
This is my favorite tree and bench in all of Ghana, it is perfect:
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