Back to Work

So, I really haven't been away from work, the new semester's been up and running at the university for a month now, but it's back to work for you guys since you haven't heard about anything but Ange for months!

The campus ministry's going strong. The university itself is having its share of struggles between marches, strikes, and rising unrest in the students and faculty who are fighting to keep their autonomy as the government threatens to seize it. In the midst of cancelled classes and constant uncertainty we just put on a very successful conference called "How to Get Good Grades and Have Fun," we have a growing new Bible study, a steady stream of new students in the English classes, and an increasing interest in the surgical training I offer weekly.

This week I had a guest in town who accompanied me on my afternoon of surgeries with the students. In attempts to prevent passing out at the sight of the needles, he concentrated on staying upright by snapping some pictures.

Students from any semester are welcome to attend, so we have a variable level of expertise, but proper restraint is an area they can always use more work in. As is injection location and technique.

Placing IV catheters is a simple procedure, but not such a common one here. Using only injectable anesthesia for the spays and neuters makes IV access ideal, but I also have the added incentive to demonstrate and let the students, and sometimes professors, practice.

I'm willing to be flexible and surgerize the way the Bolivians do in some aspects, such as using IV Halatal as my induction, a drug I'm not sure I'd even heard of in the past, but one standard I don't let slide is sterility. After a year of somewhat weekly surgeries, I think even the new students come in knowing my reputation. The surgeon and assistants always wear sterile gloves, we shave the surgical site and clean it 3 times with iodine alternating with alcohol, we use a drape and sterilized instruments (I'm pretty sure we're the only ones in the entire hospital that use the autoclave), we open things sterilely, and only the people gloved in touch anything in the surgical site.

Since we're on our own, I also get to quickly train them to be anesthesia experts minus ECG, pulse ox, doppler, etc. We've always got the good old fashioned stethoscope and the tongue pulse.

And when we nick the spleen (whoops) we're glad we have that IV access to give a little fluid boost while the body is doing its clotting miracle.

Surgery instruction is just one more thing we offer to build relationships with the students and show them Christ's love in a tangible way.

"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms." -1 Peter 4:10

For those of you who were here looking for your fix of Angelica thanks for bearing with us, check out the 20-something new photos I just added to Facebook. ;)

Happy Father’s Day to Me (and Jesus)

Today is Bolivian Father’s Day, which means this week has pretty much been Fathers' Week at school. It started when Angelica had to take a picture with her papá to school. Then in music class they drew a picture of their dads. In language class they talked about their fathers. And for homework she had to write a card to her daddy. Oh my!

In our 2.5 months together I’ve often thought of myself as a better dad than mom. Having a high pain tolerance does not make for a super compassionate mommy, nor does being really cheap help me empathize when she wants multiple band-aids a day. Having never gone to the nurse’s office in all of my years of education, nor taken a single sick day that I can remember, makes it difficult to understand why she’s already been to the nurse’s office twice in her first month of school. Fortunately, I don’t really know how to call her a “wimp” or tell her to “man up” in Spanish, so I just tell her she’s “very sensitive” which is probably more PC anyway.

However, as tough and scrappy as I may be, I know I can’t really be her dad. But there’s someone in Ange’s life who can. And when it came time to write that card to her papí, she knew just who to write it to; the Father to the fatherless. I’ve corrected spelling and added punctuation for you but here's what she said about Him:

“Mi papá es increible, es bueno, cariñoso. Es bonito hablar con Dios. Muy amable es el Todopoderoso.” (Translation: "My dad is incredible, he's good, he's caring. It's beautiful to talk with God. The Almighty is very nice.")

“Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—this is God, whose dwelling is holy.” -Psalm 68:5

(Pictured are the crafts she made in school this week for her Daddy--me!)

Manis and Pedis

On May 30th, 2008 I met this beautiful young lady.

On December 24th, 2009 God brought this little angel into my life.

On April 19th, 2010 I couldn't choose between them and therefore started sponsoring them both at Talita Cumi.

Now, nearly a year later, Ange and I are taking advantage of every opportunity to be with our dear friend, Jenny.

Last week we had her over for dinner and games. Today, we visited the salon where she works to get our nails done. Maybe next week we'll need some highlights...

Angie's first professional manicure <$3, a pedi for me <$3, a lovely visit with a dear friend = priceless!

First Slumber Party, Thousandth Cultural Faux Pas

So Carnaval here is kind of a big deal. The whole city shuts down for four days. It remains questionable whether the whole city needs to shut down or everyone just uses the "bedlam" as an excuse to retreat into their houses for a long weekend of solitude. Our church decreed it too risky to get close to the potential danger, or more accurately shooting paint, and cancelled service for Sunday and prayer group for Monday. As I knew Ange would want nothing but to shoot me with water guns, spray foam, and water balloons all weekend, I thought maybe it'd be a good idea to bring in reinforcements.

So, on our way to small group last Thursday I mentioned to Angie's little friend Carla, that maybe she could come over sometime to play, maybe even a sleepover. When I turned to ask her mom's opinion of the idea, I learned I was once again unintentionally gringofying Bolivia. Turns out not only has almost 9 year-old Carla never spent the night away from her parents, but also that Bolivians don't have slumber parties, well except the "ricos." Ugh, I'd just classified myself with the rich people. But after the great success of Ange and Carla's first pajama party I think this phenomenon's gonna catch on, for better or worse. I'm really not trying to impose North American culture.

Did you ever have trouble at sleepovers? I remember really enjoying them until the morning when I would wake up before 8am, and stare at the ceiling for hours until the other girls finally got up around noon (at least being a morning person is beneficial in almost every other situation.) And I remember that whenever my sister spent the night out she would be randomly and rapidly hit with a stomach bug, and not just in her head or as an excuse, there were real symptoms if you know what I mean.

Angelica and Carla did great overall, but there was a bit of an awkward low point when, during our showing of How to Train Your Dragon, Ange started sobbing UNCONTROLLABLY in fear that they were gonna hurt Toothless. Oh my, the child has a heart for animals just liker her momma, and she's no less compassionate towards the imaginary variety. After previewing the last half hour I was able to assure the girls the next morning that everything was gonna be just fine and we were all able to finish the movie without any more tears. Now it's time to get back to work and school and fighting to the death with the little munchkin to get moving in the morning. But it sure has been a great four days of water, relaxation, spray foam, visiting with friends, more water, cleaning everything we could find, and lots and lots of playing.