I ran today for the first time. I started off going up Mbingo Hill on the road in front of the hospital. We may call it a hill, but it may as well have been Pike’s Peak. I thought I was going to die from exhaustion, so after no one was near enough to see me I turned around and headed back down that hill. I saw a little dirt road and decided to take it. I usually sing as I run. It ain’t pretty, but it is worship. To listen to music and not sing is a form of torture for me. I always find running as a time to worship. Years ago I used to want so badly to lift my hands in praise, but then would get embarrassed because I’d notice folks looking at me. I’d turn it into a stretching maneuver so they’d quit watching me as I ran down the road or exercised at the gym. They probably thought I had a cramp or something. If people thought I was crazy at home, they surely do here. I’m the only white woman in running shorts (though the most missionary-like ones I own), bird legs swishing past the shuffling feet of the people coming and going from market, hands raised, and singing between huffs and puffs with the worship songs ringing in my ears from my ipod. The most fun part of today’s run though was when two little boys started running right behind me. So, of course I felt that a challenge was beginning and I couldn’t let those little squirts win. I mustered all my energy to stay just a couple steps ahead as we ran over rocks and muddy ruts. I noticed as I ran that I had the biggest goofiest smile on my face from those kids. I miss playing the way children play. I’ve always been a kid inside. I understand when a child wants to play what that means. Adults always want to know, “what do you want to play?”, there has to be some object to the play. Kids just want to play.
So enough about play, don’t worry, I am working plenty. My schedule usually begins at with rounds on labor and deliver. Then gynecology. Some days I have clinic, with a few emergency surgeries often thrown in the mix. Others I have scheduled gynecology cases and then head over to clinic whenever they are done. I take call each night for obstetric concerns, but the surgery residents are on first call if one of the patients has to go to surgery. Then I am on backup call for them. That means that though I get called frequently, I don’t always have to go in every night. This week has been much improved from the last couple. For some reason the lines in clinic haven’t been as long. I’ve been less consumed by the frequent frustrations. Patients have been doing well and I’ve enjoyed the relationships with them. Surgical outcomes have been good. Some interactions with staff have still been fruitless, but I feel like there is hope for change (where sometimes I don’t have much of that hope). As an update, the really sick patient that I asked for prayer for improved and went home. Amazing how God can heal a body when we don’t have much to offer. I sincerely thanked God last night that I was able to be here. That was not the first “thank You”, but the first sincere one.