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Showing posts from January, 2013

Chopped off Fingers and The Worst Dressing Change

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The phone rang, it was early Tuesday morning.  “Ruth, would you be willing to see my yard worker?  He was in a motor cycle accident yesterday and went to the hospital.  He received stiches and they told him not to come back until Thursday.  But his dressing is soaked through with blood.  Could you please see him?”  Wounds?  Dressing Changes?  Ha, my favorite type of nursing….I was game!  I was not prepared for what this would entail.  The dressing was indeed soaked with blood that had then dried in Papuan humidity.  This dressing was wrapped around a stump of a leg (from birth).  It took a complete liter of IV solution to wet down the dressing so that it would come undone.  The smell was indescribable and lingered in my nostrils for hours beyond the job.  If all that was not enough, there were ants crawling on this dressing.  The wound revealed grey dead skin that was sutured.  I knew this wound would take daily follow up. There was also 5 more small wounds on knee, hand and face. 

More About Mark

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Thank you to many of you who have asked me to write more about Mark.  And for those of you who don’t know him and have prayed for him.  Let me catch you up (with his permission, too)! : ) Mark returned home from Singapore with a lovely fiberglass cast, complete with a window to do his dressing changes.  His knee looked fantastic, compared to pre Singapore.  He was pain free.  On 2 antibiotics for 5 weeks.  The wound was just an pencil eraser size opening at the distal end of wound.  Surrounded by lovely baby pink skin and clean serous sanguineous scant drainage.  I couldn’t be happier for him.  We met every few days.  My only concerns were the duskiness of his casted leg (yet he had great pulses and little swelling), and some of the potential side effects of flagyl (one of his antibiotics).  And a bone infection and a blood clot………….sometimes knowledge is not a good thing.  Ignorance = bliss! Mark with the “window” open and holding a picture of the original wound.   As time zipped

UNCOMFORTABLE Stirrings Within

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We have known for a long time, that as leaders you spend the first 18 months observing, learning, listening and absorbing your new environment (i.e. work setting).  And that applies to living here.  We have been in Indonesia now for around 16 months and the culture, the stores, the peoples ways and needs are only just beginning to all come together for us.  I am sure that many of you follow my husbands blog, also.  He has begun writing about the pastor’s that work interior.  My mind is haunting by how poorly these pastors have been taken care of.  They live in homes with no screens to keep the mosquitoes out.  The floors have slats that allow all kinds of bugs are creatures to enter.  They are in remote places with no means of communication.  They are not given extra time or allowance to go and get supplies to supplement them during their time out in the bush.  They and their families become victims of tropical diseases that are seriously life threatening.  These pastor’s feel alone,

Update on Mark (The Story That Must be Told)

If you haven’t read “The Story That Must be Told”, please page down and read that first…..because this is an epilogue to that story.   I was asked to meet Mark and the Indonesian doctor who did his surgery at the clinic on Sunday for a dressing change.  Honestly, the wound was so boring!  The incision line was clean with no signs of infection.  I was amazed.  Slightly disappointed that this wound clearly did not require much skill from me and yet relieved and rejoicing that Mark was healing so well.  The Indonesian doctor was young and kind.  I smiled at his name, “Dr. Only One Taylor”.  He goes by Dr. Only. Monday, I stopped by Mark’s home at 1 p.m.  The wound had changed in less then 24 hours.  The bottom (distal) end was oozing pus and the old drain sites were clearly looking infected.  Just as I was there, Dr. Lee from Singapore was emailing Mark’s mom about the MRI that had been hand carried there.  He wanted photo’s comparing the two knee’s.  It was then that the swelling in M

This Story Must Be Told

The following paragraphs are written by one of my friends, Susan Stubbs.  She is a woman I greatly admire.  Not only is she a mother of 4 boys (so we are automatically kindred spirits), but she also has the sweetest spirit about her.  Despite getting malaria 42 times in the 11 years (I think that is right) of living here, she still has a positive attitude.  Her husband is the chief pilot for one of the mission groups here.  I thank her for giving me the permission to share her writings.  This story is about Mark.  Mark is a senior at the school Aubrey and Andrew attend.  He is always calm, polite and has just such a positive attitude about him.  He has every reason to be bitter and angry…..but I will let you read this story to see how one young man can make a huge impact for Christ.  Also I want to point out how when in need the mission community pulls together in incredible strength and support to each other. You will see this unfold before you as you read. This event happened on the

Six Day Count Down (by Aubrey Boyd)

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              When I think. “school break,”  I associate  it with a time of relaxation, and importantly, No school work.  This time though it seemed that I wasn’t going to get the first of the two.  I started the break knowing that I would be going to the remote village of Ndugu-ndugu  otherwise known as Senapa, but the circumstances where not what I expected to go under.  First of all the Sunday before I had sprained my ankle thus impairing my movement, second I had been sick on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I wasn’t feeling in peak physical condition. I was given the choice to go or stay……I hate those decisions……..in the end I decided to go.            So  fifteen minutes before we boarded the plane I came “limping” down to the hangar with a feeling of utter………well I don’t really know what I felt.   So after some preliminary details were taken care of we took off for a trip that I doubt I will ever forget.  Once we were in the air I inserted the ear buds of my headphones and

We Eat to Live, and Some of us Live to Eat….Food!

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No matter the day or the week, food has to always be on my mind.  Rarely can we splurge on an “out of the home” meal.  Almost EVERYTHING is made from scratch.  So ones mind has to have a PLAN of Action when it comes to food.  This year has been much easier for me in regard to food preparation.  Partially because I now know what to expect, where to find needed items (or stock with the knowledge that I may not find that item for a long time) and have all the machines and tools from America.  Also because at this point in the journey, we have accumulated a nice array of recipes that we know work and also tricks to help the needy chef.  For the most part we are content to live without much dairy, but every now and then (especially at holidays) we desire things like sour cream, etc.  To our delight we learned how to make sour cream (an item not sold here in Papua).  The two ingredients are fresh whipping cream and vinegar.  It is like magic when you combine the two.  The cream gets thick wi

Return of the Wild

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As I awaited news each day from the mountain jungle, I know many of you have been waiting for an update about Darron, Aubrey and Andrew.  I did not write sooner, because I heard nothing.  Daily, Bob, aviation staff, and I would check the radio to no avail.  One day, Darron did manage to get a call through to Bob on a borrowed satellite phone to say that they needed more supplies on pick up day for paying people to work on the runway….but that was all.  I did not anticipate the silence.  It caught me off guard.  I found myself having to push my “trust in the Lord” to a new level. Today was “pulang” (return home) day!  hallelujah   I handed Bob a cooler of treats (pumpkin bread, oranges, chips and ice water) to give to the guys at pick up time.  I was nervous as Bob left much later then he had planned.  The weather was not looking to good.  When their ETA (estimated time of arrival) drew near, Jacob and Nathaniel took off to their hanger on bikes and I asked the aviation staff to let