Yeye Update

Nine days after picking Yeye up from her father’s village, she is still hanging on. A couple days ago, she had some improvement in her respirations and heart rate, but she was suffering from nausea, vomiting, and abdominal pain, most likely from the TB meds that we had just started. Then 24 hours later, her respirations and heart rate were back up again. Yesterday, I thought I saw a slight improvement. The vomiting has stopped, though the abdominal pain is still present, her heart has slowed a little, and she looked a little more comfortable. Her hands, which have been swollen since we first saw her 9 days ago, were back to normal and the swelling in her legs and feet was slightly better. She is still moving hardly any air, but the stridor was diminished considerably yesterday. I wonder what she thinks when she hears us arrive. Does she dread taking the medication again? Does she wonder why we are so focused on what the stethoscope tells us? Up until she began with the abdominal pain, she was denying any pain. Is she telling the truth, or is she denying pain because she fears receiving yet another traditional treatment?
And I wonder what we can do for her spiritually. I simply do not have the language ability yet to minister to her spiritual needs. A teammate came with me yesterday and was able to pray for Yeye. Lord, continue to guide us in this process.
Each day, we make the 1 kilometer walk down to the little encampment where Yeye is staying. As rainy season has started, the red-clay roads are quite muddy in spots and there is one place where we leave the road to take a little foot-path for a few feet. There is a wall of green bush and trees on either side of the road, and as we approach the encampment the sound of pigs gets louder. Every once in a while we have to dodge a motorcycle or a truck piled high with plantains or wood, and often the driver stares as he goes by (it’s not very common to see white people walking along a remote rainforest road). From the moment I begin the daily trek my mind begins to turn to what I will find when I get there. My ear is always tuned, even when I am at home, to hear any sound that is out of the normal. A couple days ago, some of our neighbors came home, singing loudly. My heart quickened for a moment, thinking that I was hearing the mournful sounds of the death wail. And as I walk to Yeye’s house I listen, wondering if the wailing will begin as I approach. But she made it through, not just the first 24 hours, but nearly a week and a half. Praise God.