This day. 7/22/24

I remember arriving here in a cloud of unknowing and alone late last night.  The journey was long and complicated.  It started on Friday, driving the kids south to Georgia and then in driving rain, driving home to pack alone.  Then it was driving the doggie to her boarder early Saturday and nearly missing a turn due to a big selfish driver in the other lane, and bounding through a pothole in the little triangle between I-24 and I-59, splashing water all over the windshield like my adrenaline, thankful for my Jeep and those angels watching over me. There is not a minute to lose on a travel day.  

I remember my dear neighbor, Ellen, showing up to help me out the door Saturday morning and she even took out the garbage for me while I gathered my alleged wits and forgot my actual hairbrush, hand sanitizer, and phone charger.  (It’s surprising how poorly I pack for someone who has done this trip as much as I have)

I remember the macro-chaos of the micro-software malfunction Friday that caused 1,000’s of flight cancellations across the country.  My travel companions had to rebook on Saturday, for a flight Sunday, for which I would spend a day in Nairobi to await them.  I remember today, Monday, is that gift of time. (Michael has already been in Kenya for a week now, working his Daktari life at Tenwek Mission Hospital again. We will catch up with his interesting stories soon.)

I remember flying solo Saturday night across the Atlantic like Beryl Markham or Amelia Earheart, or Katie Christian, the 24 year old.  There were also 550 other souls on board the Boeing 777. But without my 2 kids and 1 husband sitting in the 4 across seats of the middle row, I was alone.  I remember trying to watch mindless entertainment and not enjoying it.  So I read a bit of poetry and the Silver Chair by CS Lewis in which I felt like Jill Pole getting blown by Aslan’s breath in silence and solitude over our world into Narnia.

I remember Sunday night landing in the foreign-familiar dark night city where stars shine on the ground and we disembark the giant “ndege” (Swahili for bird and airplane), onto the tarmac like those cavalier women pilots of the early 20th century.  But I was corralled into a bus then a building that bottlenecks the 550 souls into 3 tiny passport control portals for an hour or so.  I listened to a podcast on “Practicing the Presence of God” there. And I connected to wifi for messaging my husband, the Daktari, because we certainly know how to practice the presence of wifi don’t we?

I remember riding out to the hotel Sunday night with a British family “on holiday”.  Their teenage sons were excited to share the latest update on American election news with me.  I checked into my room alone with the confidence that The Lord is my Shepherd.  I remember acutely missing my family and how my mind gives them so much occupation.  But there is art on the wall of some lilies.  

And I remember the Mary Oliver poems I just read “How Everything Adores Being Alive” and “The Lily” and also Jesus on “consider the lilies”.  My call now is to live life fully alive with Him in the present, to see it, appreciate it, and remember it.  I will both lie down and sleep in peace for He alone makes me dwell in safety.  I realize it even if I cried a little silent tear.

And this Monday, this penultimate Monday in July, this serene day of waiting here on the terrace rooftop by a beautiful blue pool with the 4 horizons I can count-  spending this day alone with Jesus has restored my soul.  He has brought me into a spacious place today.  I looked way up and saw a graceful white and black winged crane silently, secretly flying overhead. Everyone else is looking down. They are missing all the delight of just being here, practicing His Presence.  How can I be so blessed as to be here amidst all this splendor? (Luke 17:21) It is because I am secured by the strength of God’s own deep and complete love for me.  That is why I am here today.  So are you.  Do you realize it? Look up, look around, look back. Remember.

Effie wrote to me today “There is no stronger faith builder than remembering”.

Look who came to Nairobi for dinner with me on Monday! 

Generations Part 1

    Returning to Kenya year after year has been such an interesting blessing.  My first trip was in 1992 with my parents, sister, and her future husband.  It was as far out of my comfort zone that 13 year old me had ever been.  I didn't particularly "enjoy" it at the time, yet upon arriving back home, I was keenly aware that I missed it already.  It was as though the first little bit of my heart was divided and deposited for future interest.  In a beautiful coming-around saga, the now 18-year-old daughter of my sister and her husband was able to join us for her first visit to Kenya this summer.  She did much better getting out of her comfort zone than I did on my first round.  She brought her guitar and led us all in singing praises to God (and a little Taylor Swift sometimes too). 

    We also were honored with the gift of another family member on this trip- Michael's dad! Someone graciously pointed out the unique situation of us having 3 generations together.  We are grateful and encouraged by his willingness to go and endure with us.  

    The first 2 weeks, Michael and his medical resident were working at several rural Maasai clinics he had never been to before.  The director of these clinics is a wonderful Maasai friend named John Sankok. He told us that they were able to serve 334 people in that time.  One patient in particular stands out as a case to share.  She was a girl with Rheumatic Heart Disease.  The early diagnosis at the rural clinic will afford her the opportunity to treat this disease with medicine monthly.  The treatment does not just affect her heart for now, but Lord willing, it will allow her heart to function properly when it is time for her to have children of her own.  Too many young women go untreated for RHD in Sub-Saharan Africa and the loss of life is often doubled in pregnancy.  Simple penicillin might allow this girl and a future generation of her future family to praise God too.

                                        below: the clinic staff at Mara Rianta CMF health clinic

                                

              below: a realistic danger for the clinic staff walking home from work here- a resident elephant is the evening traffic jam you don't want to get caught in

(she makes it very difficult for farms and gardens to keep fresh vegetables growing)

The Mara River:

 

 Below:: Daktari's one medical lecture if he could give just one to the Tenwek trainees-         Antibiotic Stewardship

   I arrived in Narok with the family for one week and then we migrated to the next county to visit Tenwek Mission Hospital for only a few days of inpatient hospital rounding and teaching.  Mainly we just wanted to reconnect and visit.  In just a few short days, we felt so very blessed by the old friends there who welcomed us back "home" and made us feel so much seen and loved.  Someone once said, "We all enter the world looking for someone who is looking for us".  Here at Tenwek we feel very much "looked at" by our community ("seen" is a better way of saying that, but it depends on the day if we feel looked at or seen) Sometimes we wish that nobody was looking at us or for us, for that matter.  But for this time it was a big blessing.  We not only felt seen but felt like we can also see things more clearly here.  

    The girls called their experiences "eye opening".  I was delighted to have open eyes for some of the generations of new medical staff that have risen up in the past 10 years.  We had Kenyan medical students and interns in 2013 and 2014 who are now bearing so much fruit at Tenwek by heading up the new oncology department, now practicing daktaris, training in surgical residency, neuro-surgery even, and carrying on as the attending medicine consultant for the inpatient medical wards.  We have no words but thanksgiving and praise to God for all the evidence of His faithfulness to all generations, especially to our 3 generations this summer.         

                                               

       

Generations part 2

    The Maasai people have been fiercely traditional for centuries.  They are noble and unique among African tribes, an iconic symbol of Kenyan culture and vitality. They resisted colonization by the British and continued their way of life in nomadic pastoring of cattle, sheep and goats.  We just learned at a campfire culture talk this week that the word "Maasai" comes from Maa meaning the people and sai  meaning to pray to Enkai (their name for God).  So they are "the people who pray to Enkai".   In the late 1970's and early 80's a young Maasai man named Timothy heard a word from the Bible which said "Whoever has the Son of God has life and whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life" (I John 5:12).  He began to ask himself "Am I not alive? Then, what does this mean?" and he went to find someone who would teach him what the Word of God meant.  He heard of a missionary with a big beard that hid his mouth and white skin and was widely feared. He was also known as one who taught the Words of God.  So Timothy walked about 30 kilometers to sit under the meeting tree with him and hear about the Son of God who offers life.

   God is moving in big ways among the Maasai today.  From the seeds that were planted in the hard dry ground of Maasailand in the '80s up until today, the number of believers is really growing.  They are communal people and like to make community decisions.  The Good News of the Kingdom of God is for communities too.  God wants us to be in community with Himself.  That is why the Son of God became one of us, to bring us back to God.  

    The missionaries of just one or two generations ago shared the Word of God with today's Maasai elders who are continuing the work of the Kingdom of God.  Today, our friend Timothy has a Masters degree in Disaster Management and is director of the ministries at Africa Hope.  They are pushing back the edges of extreme poverty through holistic outreach with water security and sanitation, children's camps and family sponsorship, all in the name of Jesus.  The same bearded white missionary recruited me to be part of the work back when I was a college student and I came to Kenya to help with the start of Africa Hope in 2003. A year later, we broke ground on a conference center for Africa Hope and my mom and dad came to help mix concrete and lay blocks for that building.

     This year, our kids and our sweet niece came and mixed concrete to help make some sidewalks that people use when coming for training and programs. The center is so big now.  I was asked to do some staff development this time and it was marvelous to see a whole new generation of community health workers and pastors growing in their understanding of the Word of God!  I and they together told the story of the whole Bible about 7 times over with a different theme each time. It offers a 35,000 foot view on how much God relentlessly loves and pursues His children to bring them back into his family through restoring life, rest, rule, friendship, and salvation.  It was 3 days of Bible stories that weave together like an epic movie trilogy.  Most people read one verse or passage at a time and miss the big picture.  Imagine watching your favorite movie in 5- 10 minute increments over a period of a year versus a binging the whole story at once and getting swept up in the drama!  The staff was so encouraging in their joy at the Word of God!  It was like medicine to my soul to be part of this.  As we left from Africa Hope, they offered a beautiful send off with prayers, singing and adorning us with Maasai blankets and beads.  The girls and I were wrapped in Kenyan flags and I felt like a marathon winner!  Then it came to me "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith".  

    

     Girls fetching water from a secure source- a bore hole that Africa Hope helped to bring the community:

below: Some Maasai grandmothers worshipping God in the church 

A new generation paving the way:

The AH staff development learning Seven Streams of Grace Bible study:

Campfire cultural talk

Tim and Michael at the AH dormitories

AH staff and send-off time:

So much to give thanks for!  God has brought us a long, long way from where we started.

    

20 years ago

A long time ago in a land far away, a young missionary woman lived in Kenya's bustling wild-west town of Narok.  It might have looked slightly like Dr. Quinn Medicine woman's setting. I wore long skirts and was a bit "out of pocket".  (slang translator: unexpected) I was one of the only or occasionally the only white resident in town.  Though it was easy to be noticeable, it was still lonesome at times.  Kenyan friends would often ensure I was kept company. But the company most enjoyed was when was a certain strapping young hero with messy curly hair would make his way across the world to come visit. Whenever he had to fly away home thegoodbyes and long-distance agonized my 23 year old heart.  We wrote actual paper letters every week for 2 years while he was still in school back in Georgia.  I would walk a dusty mile each way every day to the post office until that week's letter arrived.  Our love story was built on mission and calling in spite of distance and difficulties. The Lord was our shepherd.  He called me to follow his lead and I knew that was where I had to be.  Airport goodbyes were the hardest part for me.  I hated the scrolling escalators ascending up with his feet fading from view into the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport terminal. Why must it be called a "terminal"?

Thankfully the terminal also allows for a continuation of stories beyond what is visible to the eye.  I returned home and our story continued up the chapel stairs to a blissful wedding at the Berry College on New Year's Day 2005. We promptly entered a new phase of life with his first-year medical school resuming on Monday after the wedding.  People said medical school years are hard on relationships, but I was just glad we were finally in the same county!  In 18.5 years of marriage now we have seldom let much time or distance get between us again.  

The path God led us on as a family then went through 4 years of med-school, 3 years of internal medicine residency,  2 years of Infectious Disease fellowship, seminary, a bouncing baby boy, and a gorgeous girl born, a few graduations, and then all four of us got on a big metal bird to fly away to Kenya all together in 2013.  The mission and calling were still active and the story line was filling out in new dimensions.

That was where the Daktari-Life stories come from. We had 2.5 year old Little Miss and 5 year old Man-Cub 10 years ago. You do the math.  Those were some happy golden years we poured out at Tenwek Mission Hospital in Bomet, Kenya.  Sometimes we were living like sheep in green grass beside quiet waters, other times it was a darkest valley. U usually it was a little bit of both at the same time.  But the Lord was our Shepherd continually. 

We moved to Chattanooga in July 2015 and have never fully collected all the scattered parts of our heart that remained behind.  Amazingly, Michael has the chance with his job to go back for medical work in Kenya every year. And it's time for our annual migration now. Like the African Wildebeast who cross the Mara River in July or August to find greener grass too, we get to experience some challenges and some blessings through adventuring to Kenya. Theirs is a migration of survival instinct.  Maybe ours is similar...

 Note: When the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, it's usually just because of lighting or maybe because of yard chemicals.  But for us and the migratory wildebeasts, it's more like a visceral response or a calling to just up and go not because we can see greener grass with our eyes or a better deal on the horizon, but because the Lord is our Shepherd and he is authoring our story.

We are doing our Kenya-venturing in a new way this year.  Michael went ahead without me this week.  I rode with him to our quaint little Chattanooga airport and he asked if I wanted to drop him off at the curb or go inside. A rush of sadness barraged my thoughts.  I couldn't think straight.   Kiss goodbye, and up the escalator he went, and out the door I went.  It was a bit  disorienting for me at first. So I have cracked open the old blog to reorient myself and my friends on our story.  

It's going to be a good chapter coming this month, so stay tuned!  

Michael and a resident are working in Masai clinics this week. Our family will travel to meet up with them later in a few days.  Check out the link to where they are in the world!

We are still happy. I hope the next update won't be so sappy.  For now, here's a little mappy!

Wiki tatu (week 3)

The third week of our journey was up to hot Egypt.  We could title that week either "Standing Outside the Fire"or as our friend that lives there as a hospital volunteer calls it "Hairdryer in your Eyeballs". This episode is dedicated to processing the events at Sinai just from last Sunday, Aug7- Tuesday, Aug9 2022.  

I. Bush Fire:

George McDonald on Divine Burning:  "He will shake heaven and earth, that only the unshakeable may remain: He is a consuming fire, that only that which cannot be consumed may stand forth eternal....He will have purity...the fire will go on burning in us after all that is foreign to it has yielded to its force, not with pain and consuming but as the highest consciousness of life, the presence of God." (1).

Are you still with me?  St. Catherine's Monastery in the south of Sinai peninsula is the oldest continuously inhabited monastery in the world.  It was built in 548 during the reign of Emperor Justinian (the official name of it is worth the click on the above link).  The only human inhabitant we saw was a gatekeeper who kept out ill dressed tourists*.  The main attraction inside the walls is actually a bush.  Tradition says that this is The Bush, the burning bush of Moses's first meeting with God.  It is still living and green and watered from the well said to be the "Well of Girls" where Moses met the girl he would marry.  I noticed that the bush, still vivaciously alive is not charred or brittle or most notably, dead. Even though God is a consuming fire, whatever is pure and of Him will remain. ( Hebrews 12:29)

    Also at St. Catherine's Monastery is a library, the oldest continually operating library in the world and home of one of the oldest original and complete manuscripts of the Bible, the Codex Sinaiticus (4th century) and another in Syriac.  These ancient documents testify to the veracity and accuracy of the Bible over 1,000's of years.  They were not on public display sadly.  The monks are very private about their books and the Codex has been mostly annexed to the British Museum in London anyways. (Thank you, Indiana Jones) But we know that what is true will remain ultimately.

II. Rocks:

There are very unique rocks in the vicinity of Mt. Sinai and the Burning Bush.  There is a burning bush leaf-like print that is indelibly tattooed in the rocks.  It is like a testimony in stone of the Holy God-Trodden place.  You can almost hear them crying out with organic graffiti "Remember: God was here".  Even when the rocks are hammered and split apart, the print is there within it's essence.  

Just think: stone tablets of the covenant that God gave to Moses and His people were written on this mountain.  But because Law never penetrates the human heart, only love does, when the base people betrayed their Liberator- Lover God and broke his heart, those stone tablets were broken too.  And then Moses went up again and got another hand written copy of the Law for God's people.  My knees were sore from one trip down the 750 stairs. Good thing I didn't have to go right back up again. **

Can you see the wee lad in the lead running like a hobbit down the mountain?

III. Mountain:

We went up the Mount Sinai (jebel Musa) just one time, thankfully.  It was a journey that began at 10 pm from the hippy beach town of Dahab.  In order to drive in the Sinai, vehicles must go in police escorted caravans.  If you want to go somewhere, get to the police checkpoint in time and wait until the caravan comes.  We had our airbnb pillows in the air-conditioned van and a very knowledgeable tour guide teaching us along the way so we could get education, rest, safety, and adventure all at once.  After a small lecture on the archeological evidences of the Exodus, everyone went to sleep in the van until midnight.  As we drove through the night, red taillights guided in a remote wildernesses.  I thought about the rods and cones in the human eye (Purkinje effect) and the gracious gift of God in guiding His people with a fire by night instead of LED white light.  Maybe He did have a white hot fire leading them, but I think warm red or orange is gentler in the darkness, like the taillights we keep following.  

We reached the end of the road at 12:30 a.m. and met up with our Bedouin guided camel journey. The kids went first and second up on the giant animal's backs with sadly teeny tiny saddles. We rode tall through the star strewn darkness. There are no sweet crickets in the desert.  It was so very quiet.  For two hours we rode up the rocky trail.  Occasionally we'd round a corner that exposed a military grade LED  streetlight somewhere far below.  In the darkness with zero trees, zero plant life, it was stark.  After 2 hours we had to walk.  The rocky upward stacks of rocks was illuminated only by our handheld devices.  It was not built by the same people who engineered the pyramids lets just say.  The kids again were leading the way further up and further in.  We reached the summit in plenty of time to watch the 5am sunrise.  We read Exodus 19 and 20.  How did we get up here if all that is true? Then we read Ephesians 2 about how Christ's purpose is to bring us who were far away and had no business in the presence of a Holy God near to the Father and make us one.  

IV. Dryness:

George McDonald has much to say about the Divine Burning and also about spiritual dryness. 

"That man is perfect in faith who can come to God in the utter dearth of his feelings and desires, without a glow or an aspiration, with the weight of low thoughts, failures, neglects, and wandering forgetfulness, and say to Him, 'Thou art my refuge'" (1).

In the Sinai, we constantly sought refuge in the shade and water bottles. When we are stripped bare of every last pretense, we only have faith that God is our refuge or we have desolation.  I am left amazed at the realization that it is perhaps in very dry and barren places, the magnanimous mountains of dryness that a holy ember of faith could create prime conditions for a wild fire.  There is nothing else to be consumed by a blaze out here though. The red tipped cigarette held by the man with the camel isn't going to hurt anything because there is nothing for it to consume aside from his lungs.  Dryness and desolation- why did God chose this place to make Himself known instead of that lovely lush end of the very same Great Rift Valley in Kenya? We hiked down and talked about Egypt in the Bible and the complex relationship it represents with God's people and how Jesus was a child there too for a purpose.

It makes me think of a Rich Mullins song(as much of life does) "He was a boy like I was once, was he a boy like me?  I grew up around [Tennessee] he grew up around Galilee..." Back home in green Chattanooga, rain has been so voluminous that our grass grew 10 feet and my porch pillows grew mildew.  Guess how I get rid of that?  Blazing sunshine.  The light and the heat is purifying.   I'm so thankful for green, trees, rain, the gentle hills of East Tennessee.  And I am also thankful for the desert wilderness of rocks and heat and mountains you wouldn't believe they are so stunning.  But I do hope you believe, and especially what happened on that mountain and how God came to not just give a law, but to be with His people particularly in that very dry and desolate place.  He still does that.

Thanks for reading or listening to my story.  I hope you enjoyed it a little bit and next time I will tell you a story about Typhoid, Tetanus, and a Lady from Khartoum...

*see photo.  One of us, clothed persistently in athletic shorts had to wrap a rental covering over his bare knees in order to enter.  Oddly enough, we were not asked to remove shoes. 

** Wonder upon wonder!  Michael had knee surgery in April and was healed up enough to make this trek!

1. C.S. Lewis George MacDonald: an Anthology 365 readings p.1, 2

Wiki mbili (week 2 in Kiswahili)/ Down to Earth

   Time in Kenya is like honey. It is viscous and fluid to a fault, sweet and golden at its best.  It is flowing for sure but one must keep pace, not with the impatience of hurry, but appreciation for the sweetness that comes with slowing down.  Here, the thoughts have time to catch up.  The mind can defragment by walking instead of running.  We are brought back down to earth by experiencing the strength of all 5 senses once again and finding our tiny place on earth. 

    There's a hot little technique in counseling called "grounding exercise" in which a person re-orients from anxieties by naming 5 things seen, 4 things felt, 3 things heard, 2 things smelled, and 1 tasted.  I will take a stab at a little grounding not to overcome anxiety here but because its a way to organize sensory overload.  I won't complete the 5-4-3-2-1 for sake of time today. ;-)

    Sight1 : Early in the morning, looking out the window at an angel trumpet tree, its quiet beauty is blaring out the glory of its Creator.  Holy, Holy, Holy. The visiting neonatologist in her white coat comes down a staircase behind the tree to go up and see her baby patients first thing in the morning.  

    Sight 2: Our big bright green bag was packed up here with some things that are more useful on this side than at home.  One of those is a gaudy bright pink dress I had made here. Another is the electric tennis racket that is used to hunt mosquitos at night.  I love this big bright green bag because it holds a little place for us on a storage shelf while we are away.

    Sight 3: Gigantic black dog.  We are dog sitting a Great Dane puppy named Nova for friends this week.  The sight of this dog is pretty amazing.  Also we are keeping a Golden Retriever named Rugby and a little fluffy dog named Maizie.  We like having the sight of good dogs around us.  Rugby reminds us so much of our dear Dandy dog back home.

    Sight 4:  My favorite sight is of the 25 or so house helpers gathered together who came for afternoon chai last Thursday.  We just wanted to sing a few praise choruses in Kipsigis and thank God together and share some words of encouragement with each other after the long time of distancing. Everyone was really happy.  They told us how the house churches popped up when the buildings were closed and large groups became 2 or 3 family groups.  They told how the church never stopped meeting, they just multiplied under the pressure and adapted.  But they remained faithful.  What a precious sight.

    Sight 5: Daktari coming home with the medical ward team of 8 for lunch one day.  They are Kenyan trainees that are the sight of hope for the bright future.  

    Touch 1: You feel your feet molding over the stones in the road.  You are aware of where you step and take not for granted the fact that the path will be smooth.  The dust swells up under heavy feet.  The dust of the dry earth swells up and finds a way to touch every part of you again, reminding you from whence you cometh.  We get re-grounded literally.

    Touch 2: The kids and I went out to pick beans with our local friend when she had only 1 day to harvest.  We got to experience a few hours of being field hands.  The neighbors who were there the whole time helping were happy to have us join and they popped up from bending at the waist, smiling, heads wrapped up, welcome to the field.  Toughened by time and tenderized by gathering the spilled beans.  The rains did not come so the plants became brown and dry.  We learn to uproot the plant from the soft dry earth.  They are gathered in large gunny sacks and even the weeds are gathered up for the time being.  She just wants to get those beans out and will sort the useful from useless later.  Our blessed job is just picking the beans someone else planted and helping a little to complete a task.   But there are also burrs in the field.  They cling to all the cotton clothing and make me look like a porcupine! They feel like they look too. Tiny straight quills prickle through the sleeves and legs of our clothing.  If we stayed on doing this, imagine how in tune we would be with the earth and its needs and appreciation of each and every bean. But as time flows on we turn to our chai break and lunch break and time to go back home- sore and scratchy and plum tuckered out.  

    Touch 3: Cold L-shaped door handles loudly squeaking betray early morning sneaking through any bathroom door.  The doors are heavy and solid, no hollow core will last here.

    Touch 4: The touch of clean water is noticeable.  We used to have silty river water in the tap.  A new water treatment plant has made it possible to even drink from the tap now.  (I'm admittedly a bit too chicken to try it still so we drink from another filtration system). But the feel of the water is different. It's clearer, and cleaner.

    Sound 1: Ka-wonk u-wooonk! Ka-wonk u-wooonk!  2 magnificent crowned cranes trumpet praise for being alive and flying.  They wake me up and call me out of the house to look for this oddly large and graceful bird and its life-mate.  They fly in with head hunched down and perch atop the tallest tree around.  "It looks like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree" she says.  And there is a pair of haloed angels balancing on the droopy tip top.  I watch them a while but they are quiet now that they've landed  (and think, I might have totally missed them if I had had AirPods in).  This regal bird is a lavish display of God's handiwork.  It's golden plum crown makes me think of a holy saint.  This icon of Africa adorns Uganda's flag.  

    Sound 2:  But it's the lower, tiny birds who sing the loveliest songs. The big birds are awesome but the small ones give music to make the heart happy.  

    Sound 3: Chainsaws.  The music of Mordor. They are the sound of developing farmland and much needed housing.  They buzz and whine through the day in the distance where Eucalyptus trees are taken down to stumps.  This is not the good sound I want to hear but it too reminds us that we are here on planet earth only for a short while.

    Smell 1: Trash burning.  Too sad to describe. Noxious even in the memories.

    Smell 2: Rain. They love it.  Best smell is rain.  He used to run home racing the rain.  This time he just sits here and enjoys it and texts his friends at home.

    Taste 1: "It's different. Not bad."  I tell her the foods just aren't what she's used to.  They don't have to be the very best or our most favorite foods, but they are different.  Everyone loves the taste of mandazi that we eat with chai.  It's like a beignet or doughnut hole shaped like a triangle or square.  The taste of friendship shared.  We met with 6 different friends in Narok yesterday to eat a meal, drink chai, have mandazi, or just a soda.  This tastes of friendship and weight gain.

That is quite a sensory overload for week 2.  Thank you for reading and helping me feel back "down to earth".

    

Wiki moja (Kiswahili for Week 1)

 Wiki Moja-  I hope to post 3 weeks of Dakatari Life for the first time back online for the first time since, well, a long time ago.  

    We are so blessed to have this opportunity to be back in Kenya serving at Tenwek Mission Hospital again.  Daktari was allowed to bring a UT medicine resident for an away rotation.  Kenya has general elections in August and it is recommended that visitors make their way out beforehand, so we are only able to work in the hospital for a week.  Therefore, he hit the ground running at 7 a.m. for ICU rounds on Friday and is covering call for the medical ward this weekend.

    Here is a very dry little take on the medicine rounds so far:

ICU patient 1- Rheumatic Heart Disease, atrial fabulation, history of stroke.

patient 2- Lady with probable Lupus, very sick, respiratory failure, on vasopressor, chest tube for fluid on lungs.  She coded Sunday morning.

patient 3- Old mad with diabetes, hypertension, DKA, new renal failure, needs dialysis.

patient 4-  heart failure, getting a little better.

Medical ward, 40 patients to see, a noticeable lack of HIV this time.  There's more non-communicable diseases and a handful of Covid patients (which is a communicable disease) in a cohort isolation unit.

Highlights: There are now 2 Kenyan full-time doctors on the ward.  One was a med student in our 1st year here, then he was an intern in our 2nd year, and now he is the consultant on staff!  The other is a Kenyan medical officer and affords the consultant a partner in the work.  These are major developments from 2014 and a big reason for doing what we do.

Another highlight: teaching at rounds and patient bedside with the team of medical staff. Teaching them about rate control for RHD, ID concepts on diagnosis and treatment of neutropenic fever (which is like the guards of the immune system all going on leave of absence at once).

There is an overwhelming volume of very sick people but it is a little bit like "Cheers" in that everybody knows his name, and they're always glad he came.  Lots of happy, warm welcomes in the community so we are encouraged.  That is the daktari update wiki moja, part 1.

The Great Rift Valley is still there. 

 In 2019 we witnessed its rifting in an earth splitting fracture of the  road.

Typical town along the 3 hour journey from Nairobi to Tenwek.  

The roads are remarkably smooth these days!

The most beautiful tree along the way

Oh, wow, that's a big pointer finger.

Our friend, Gideon is completing his 6 years of medical school now. Pray for his exam on Monday!

How to tame your dragon/ Great Dane

We get to dog sit for 3 different missionary dogs this week!

The day Josiah prayed for friends to play with, a 13 yr old named Josiah appeared and remembered him from summer camp at the gaga ball pit.  They got to rematch on the trampoline this time. God had planned to answer that prayer before it was even prayed I do believe!

The "Place of Songs": Tenwek 

Our little friend's 2nd birthday party