Well, this past week I worked the night shift, which came with it's challenges, but actually went pretty well. I was thankful that in spite of the late hours, there was a little slower pace and I was able to get familiar with some more things in the ward. It was also nice to have visits from friends on the ship bringing me coffee...I was even able to start an IV on one of my friends to practice my skills and practice with the different supplies they have here that I had never used before.
Some of you who have travelled may know that practically every country seems to have their own special word for "white person"...In Mexico, I've been called "gringa" or "huera"..in Kenya, it was "muzungu"...in Thailand, it was "Colowa"...But, in Togo, the word is "yovo"...It's not a derogatory thing to be called "yovo"...in fact, the kids have an interactive song that they sing to the white people beginning with "Yovo, yovo"...we had fun singing it with the kids in the village when we hiked up in Kpalime a few weeks ago.
Out of everything that went on during my night shifts, the most rewarding was to bond with one special little 7-year old patient named Bobo...Halfway into the night, Bobo starts calling out "yovo, yovo"..Thinking he was scared of me and crying because I'm white (some of the kids are!), I started to walk away...But, then the translator tells me "No, he's calling you because he wants you to stay with him....he likes you." I walk back over to Bobo and he takes my hand and holds on tight. The translator goes on to tell me what he had gathered from the woman staying with Bobo...His mother died when he was younger and he needs lots of love and affection. The woman staying with Bobo is his aunt.
Throughout the night, Bobo would call out "yovo, yovo" and I would go and stroke his little head until he fell asleep. Later on, I would hear him calling again and the same process would repeat...at the end of the night, I told him I had to leave but a new yovo would be coming to take care of him and I would be back again that night to take care of him again...But he shook his head and held on tight to my arm...He didn't want another yovo...He told me he would follow me out, which was kind of amusing thought, since both of his legs were in casts from his feet to his hips...but I guess he wasn't thinking about that...
It broke my heart to think that he was so desperate for love and affection and didn't want me to leave...But, I couldn't very well stay there all night and day, so I said goodbye and thankfully he fell asleep not too long afterwards.
That night, I came back to take care of Bobo again...he started crying in the middle of the night...but this time, he wasn't calling out "yovo, yovo"...he was just crying unconsolably and wouldn't wake up..."He's having a bad dream," his aunt said. So, the translator and I put our hands on him and I began to pray for Bobo...The minute I started praying, his head relaxed to one side and he stopped crying. "I think this is a spiritual battle," the translator said. I would have to agree...I have no idea what Bobo has seen or what has happened throughout his life, but it is evident that he is often plagued by fear, so it was awesome to be able to stand in the gap and pray for him! It is so amazing to be a part of a ministry where we are encouraged to pray for our patients...and when we see God answer those prayers!
No more tears, Bobo
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