Daily Stretching

Besides for John, I haven’t told you much about the CP (Cerebral Palsy) kids.  The other two boys are Joel and Anton.

Joel has quite a bit of mobility with his arms, especially his right arm.  He is able to grasp some objects on his own with his right hand.  Joel has also worked out how to communicate when he wants a kiss: he makes a kissing sound with his top lip and lower teeth—he’s such a flirt!  Every time he sees me and while I’m working with him, he continuously makes kissing noises, and I oblige every time or a make a bit “mwah” in his direction if I can’t reach his hand or head during a stretch.  When I do kiss him, his eyes roll back and he cracks up laughing.  Joel likes to chew on things near his mouth (hands, toys, kids, etc.), so we have to keep the babies away from his head during nap time, and I have to be careful how I carry him so he doesn’t bit me either.  Most of the time, his hands receive the brunt of the chewing.  His forefinger to his thumb is calloused on both hands from the constant gnawing.  Joel’s favorite part of stretches is bouncing on the exercise ball at the end.  He giggles and smiles, and it’s terribly contagious—I can’t help but laugh along with him.  Something so simple and I take for granted brings so much pleasure to this boy.

In many ways, Anton (short for Anthony) is similar—especially about the exercise ball.  His smile is as genuine as his cry of pain.  Anton’s muscles are extremely tight, and his spine is turned to his right just above the hips, causing his legs to bend and curve in that direction.  When he first arrived at InStep, his hands were in such tight fists that his nails were growing into his palms, and the skin was almost rotting because of the lack of air and cleaning.  Thanks to visiting physical therapists and the continuing work of Hoglah (one of the Social Workers at InStep), Anton’s hands are stretched and cleaned daily, and they are much looser.  Due to recent injections for sickness, Anton has been tighter than normal, especially in his right leg.  Just touching his leg makes him cringe and cry out in pain.  Trying to stretch and do exercises with him has been more difficult than the other two boys, but he is starting to loosen up a bit.

Because Hoglah will be gone for three months to stay with another kid in the hospital, she has been teaching me how to work with the boys individually so I can continue working with them while she’s gone.  I struggle with how far to push them because of lack of training, and my heart aches when they cry out in pain, but I know that to leave them without these exercises will damage them more in the long-run.  What their little bodies want to do on their own is destructive not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. 

Similarly, what my own sinful nature wants to do on its own is ravage and destroy my soul.  Without God’s stretching my spirit daily, I will stiffen and waste away.  I know that God’s heart also aches when I cry out in pain, but He knows what is best for me. 

Working with these boys has brought such a calm and joy to my own spirit—I am so grateful to be able to work with them.  Often all three boys just crack up at the something unseen, and I like to think that God and His angels are speaking to them and telling them funny jokes and how much the Father loves and enjoys them. 

Learning to Walk

Last week as I was cleaning up and reorganizing a storage room, I found a walking device I thought would help Wanjiku with walking.  I can strap her arms in and there’s hip support and breaks on the wheels to keep her from slipping backwards.  One of the arm supports was broken, but my dad “MacGyvered” it with some wire and tape and made it work.  I was so excited to use it with Wanjiku, but she would not have it.  She screamed bloody murder and could still drop to her knees, keeping her from walking.  So we got leg braces to physically force her to stand—this just made her bellow even louder.  She is used to doing what she wants when she wants, and she DID NOT want to use the walker.  I didn’t want to cave into her crying fit, but there’s a fine line with her because she also has a seizure disorder, and excessive crying can cause her to convulse.  Due to her wailing, there were many people in the hallway I was working in, and everyone was trying to help.  Eventually we gave up trying to make her walk and told her in Swahili and English that as soon as she stopped crying we would release her.  After about 10 minutes of screaming and us just kneeling there, she began to quiet.  As soon as she stopped crying, we took her out of the walker, and waited for her to stop yowling again to take the leg braces off.  When I took her back to the other kids and set her on the floor, she heaved a big sigh (as in, “I won!”).

In my excitement and ignorance, I tried to push her too far too quickly.  Looking back, I had essentially trapped Wanjiku in unknown devices, and there was no way to convince her that this was for her benefit.

So today, another day older and wiser, I put the leg braces on Wanjiku and set her in a stool without a seat (which she has been in many times before), and had her just stand for five minutes.  She still didn’t like it, but she didn’t panic—the stool was not new, she was in a familiar environment, she had use of her arms, so only the leg braces were new.  Today I did the same thing and added a minute to the time—she hardly fussed at all.  I will continue this exercise daily, increasing her standing time by one minute each day, and once we reach about 15-20 minutes, I’ll try the walker again.

This ordeal has caused me to stop and think about two key matters:

1)       How often do I try and rush God’s plans for me?  When excitement and ignorance meet, I take off with an idea without thinking it through; my mom jokes that this is a “Kiser Trait”, but I think it’s humans in general.  As a teacher, I’ve tried to teach a complex idea without breaking it down into graspable pieces—instead of saving time, I have to go back and reteach the lesson so my students can get it.  With ideas about my future, I continue to jump the gun and plan long-term what God means for just now.
2)      How do I respond to an inundation of unknown stimuli?  Exactly the same as Wanjiku.  I feel trapped and terrified and want out NOW!  This was definitely the case with my time in Mexico.  But God wouldn’t let me out until I stopped crying for no reason.  Like Wanjiku, I was just throwing a fit, not because I was being tortured or in pain, but because I couldn’t do what I wanted to do.  God had to break my will and show me that He was in control and worthy of trust.  To some extent I’m going through a similar experience here in Kenya, but this time it’s more like I’m being stood up with leg braces in a chair and I’m just whining.  Here’s to hoping I’ll continue to progress positively…

I wonder if Wanjiku has any idea of how much she’s teaching me?  With her help, I may learn to walk too.

John

John’s Story:

“Arrived August, 2012 – John was left near a clean water spring. In Step was contacted by the children’s department to pick him up. John is suffering from cerebral palsy, but other than that, is incredibly healthy... We are investigating where he came from and believe that we have found his family. The investigation is on-going. We hope that John’s story will have a happy ending” (www.rehemainstep.com)

The most recent information we have is that Child Serves has found John’s family.  The eldest son impregnated a girl, and she came back to the family because she could not care for the child because of his Cerebral Palsy.  She left in the middle of the night and the family did not want John and abandoned him near a spring.  The family is more than capable of taking care of John, but because children with severe needs are outcasts, no one wants them.  The family claims that the child has no relation to them, but John is the spitting image of the eldest boy and his father…

John also has some mental retardation and is non-communicative.  He makes long sounds and grinds his teeth and reaches for your hand when you come near.  John has pretty good movement of his head and his right arm and hand.  His legs bend well, but John prefers to keep them bent.  He forms a fist with his left hand, and his left arm stays bent up towards his head.  John often slaps his left fist with his right hand or slaps his head or punches under his chin.  I’ve been working with him by unfolding his left hand and massaging it, bending his legs and left arm, and helping him sit up.  I have hopes that he will be able to sit up on his own someday.

In addition to working with kids, today I started working on scrapping and sanding the inside walls of the health clinic along with my mom, Rebecca, and Danae.  We need to scrap all of the walls to prepare them for paint later this week/beginning of next week.  The building is cinderblock construction with a concrete skim coat (very similar to the buildings I saw in Mexico).  By sanding down the bumps of the skim coat the walls get a more uniform look.  The first floor of the building is for the health clinic that will be open to the public as well as used for our kids/staff.  The upstairs/second floor is for mission teams to stay and there will be two dorm rooms, a kitchenette and sitting room, two bathrooms/shower rooms, and a room/bathroom for the on-site doctor.  We are pushing hard to finish the clinic as we have a shipping container coming at the end of this month with medical equipment to outfit the clinic.  We still need to run the plumbing, build a water tower and drill a bore-hole to pump water into it, install windows, tile, and fixtures.  We do not have complete funding to finish everything yet, but we will get as far as we can with what we have.  Right now we’re focusing on finishing two bathrooms, and exam room, and the office and waiting room in the first floor clinic so we can get up and running, and finishing the two dorm rooms and two bathrooms upstairs so teams will have a place to stay when they come.  My dad is working out how much money is needed to finish each remaining room so we can send out a plea for more funds.  If you are able to donate even a small amount towards finishing the clinic, money can be sent to Rehema InStep Ministries, 1117 3^rd Street, Anacortes, WA 98221 or check out www.rehemainstep.com to donate online.

Wanjiku

Wanjiku’s Story (Information taken from www.rehemainstep.com and my observations):

When Wanjiku arrived in February 2010, she was extremely malnourished (like so many that come here).  She was 3 years old but had the body of a 12 month old baby.  She was also diagnosed as epileptic and put on phenobarbital which helped with the seizures.  We are not sure how much damage was done during the first three years of her life with no medication. 

Wanjiku’s mother is mentally challenged, and one time after she was admitted and then discharged from the hospital, she went home and brought Wanjiku back to the hospital thinking it was a good place for her baby to live—it had a roof, beds, medicine, and sometimes a meal once a day.  The hospital could not keep her and contacted the Children’s Office who then placed Wanjiku with InStep.  Wanjiku’s mother was there when staff from InStep picked her up, and there was no emotion on the mother’s part whether that was because of her mental illness or not.  

In 2012 Wanjiku was scooting around with one leg tucked under the other, and more recently she has begun walking on her knees.  She attempts to take steps if someone is holding her up, but she does not put full weight on her legs.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve been watching Wanjiku’s movements and how the Aunties work with her.  She scoots around the floor, walks on her knees, and chews on whatever she can find.  She likes to chew on fuzzy things like pieces she rips off of foam matts, strings, pieces from blankets.  Wanjiku has her own toy keys that the Aunties are supposed to give to her to chew on instead of other things, but she gets bored and tosses the keys in search for something else.  For the most part, the Aunties just ignore her because Wanjiku isn’t a big disturbance.  I’ve been working with her by standing behind her and holding her up by her hands and using my knee to brace her backside—she tries to take steps but cannot bear her whole weight on each leg.  There is also a wooden stool that the top has been removed, and I place her inside and hold her knees so she can’t sit down.  She doesn’t like it and starts to whine after a few minutes.  I’ve been stretching her ankles and toes in an attempt to work the calf muscles.  It’s a slow process, but I think Wanjiku will be able to walk someday.  I think when Wanjiku does start walking, she’s going take off running, and then the Aunties will have to chase her down wherever she goes!

Teddy

Teddy’s Story:

“Arrived in May 2008, Teddy came to our home at about 7 months, after his mother abandoned him in a locked house for more than a week.  He was very malnourished and wak.  With close monitoring and a special diet, we nursed him back to health.  We were devastated when the judge ordered that he would be given back to his mother, who had left him for dead.  We prayed for God’s intervention, and after only a few weeks, Teddy’s mom contacted the Children’s Office admitting that she could not care for him and requested he be returned to us…  Teddy was born with webbed fingers on his right hand.  In June 2010 he had surgery to separate them” (www.rehemainstep.com).

I’ve been observing Teddy for a few days, and I’ve found that he understands some Swahili, but he responds more to physical prompts.  Teddy is no longer kept with the babies all day but is out with the toddlers.  I have yet to see him melt-down and scratch his head like I saw when I was here last April.  I find this encouraging.  Spending time outside with the freedom to come and go is better than being confined in a room with crying babies.  For the most part, the other kids are nice to Teddy and try to keep him from wandering off, but sometimes we find him back at the kitchen in search of chai!  Teddy is still not potty trained; cognitively he does not seem to recognize the feeling of needing to go, but the Aunties are supposed to put him on the training potty every hour on the hour in hopes of training his body.  Being Kenya, this process does not always happen the way it is supposed to, and Teddy spends most of the day wandering around in wet or poopy pants.

Today I started working with Teddy on communicating “more”.  I had a small biscuit (kind of like a cookie) on my knee.  Every time Teddy reached for the biscuit, I grabbed his hands and tapped them together and said, “more”, and then I gave him a small piece.  He smiled and flapped his hands and scratched the mat he was sitting on.  Sometimes he was focused on the biscuit and would grab for it three-four times in a row, but most of the time he was looking elsewhere.  As soon as he saw the biscuit, he would reach for it and we’d go through the whole hand tap “more” routine.  I also did this procedure with a sensory ball that he likes to play with and chew on.  It’s going to take a long time, but I’m hopeful he’ll learn “more”, but even more importantly, I hope he’ll feel God’s love for him while we work.

Peace that Surpasses Understanding

Philippians 4:4-7 says, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.  Let your reasonableness be known to everyone.  The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (ESV).  Over the past few days I’ve been given opportunities to live out these verses.  Despite crying over the initial loss of my hard drive, my friends and family have helped me make known my requests to God—begging earnestly and humbly, and while my hard drive has not been returned, I am experiencing peace;  A peace that does not mesh with the circumstances.  My situation hasn’t changed, but my heart is being kept safe, and I’m at ease.

Thursday a few of us went into Kitale for a women’s bible study that meets once a week.  We had some time to spend at The Coffee Shop—a hotspot among the mzungu (white people) because of free Wifi and coffee.  With all four of us trying to connect to the internet plus a few who were already in the shop, the connection speed was horrible.  Luckily for you, I was able to post a blog yesterday!  Wouldn’t want to keep you hanging!  So we stayed at the shop for about an hour and then headed to one of the women’s houses where we would meet and talk about the bible.  This group is comprised of other missionary women in the area, and they are starting a new 8-week study next week, so I’ll be here for the whole thing.  I’m excited at the prospect of being part of a small group while I’m here in Kenya—certainly not something I had in Mexico or even back home in Washington State.

I also started working with some of the kids—stretches with the CP boys, walking with Wanjiko, and iPad drawing with Teddy.  I will devote the next few blogs to each of the kids to give you an idea of the population of special needs here.  For now, here’s a quick overview. 

Teddy: Many of you know he’s the reason I returned.  He has pretty severe retardation, is non-verbal, and not toilet trained.

Wanjiku: She is about six years old, cannot walk, and is also non-verbal and not toilet trained.

Joel and Anton: The boys are about the same age, four-five years old, and they have Cerebral Palsy.  Both are non-verbal, but Joel is really trying to speak.

John: He also has Cerebral Palsy, but his muscles are much looser than Joel and Anton.  There seems to be some mental retardation, but I’m not sure to what extent.

More to come on these kiddos!

Loosing Everything, Gaining Joy

Flight Two and beyond:

The flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi was uneventful.  I had a window seat and the seat next to mine was empty—such an oddity, but certainly welcome!  I was able to view the sights of the Swiss Alps, the Mediterranean Sea and Greece, and the deserts of northern Africa.  Every new sight stole my breath away as I have only seen such things in movies, and these sights kindle a desire to see them up close and not just from the air (well, maybe not the deserts in northern Africa…).  Unfortunately, I didn’t think to take any pictures, and you could google better pictures if you want to see them.

When we arrived in Nairobi at 8pm, we picked up our luggage (10 tubs of stuff to take to the children’s home) and found our ride to the place we would stay the night until our flight the next morning.  Rebecca (one of the gals on our team) has a great niece that runs a ministry in Nairobi with her husband and kids, and they offered us a free place to sleep.  We slept for about four hours and then had to head back to the airport to catch our flight our east.  Everything had gone smoothly up until this point… (note the dramatic foreshadowing)

Our flight to Eldoret (routed through Kisumu) was with Fly540—a company that InStep has had problems with in the past and gave up using—and we decided to try this company again because it is under new management.  They told me that my backpack carry-on was too large to take in the cabin with me and that I had to check it.  I forgot that I left my pouch with my portable hard drive and all my electronic charging cables (Kindle, iPod, iPad, cell phone) in the bag.  So when we arrived at InStep and I was unpacking, I noticed that my pouch was open and some of my cables were loose in my backpack, and my hard drive and iPad/iPod charger and cables were gone.  The hard drive had Apple logo stickers on it and I think the thief figured it was something Apple and valuable, but it is useless to him because he didn’t take the connection cable to actually use the hard drive.  This hard drive has every file and document I’ve ever created along with every picture I’ve ever taken on it.  I have no back-up on a computer because this was my back-up.  And I know the thief will realize he can’t use it and will just throw it away or delete everything and sell the drive.  And the charger and cables are the only way I have to recharge the iPad I brought to work with the kids and leave with the ministry when I leave.  I know this theft occurred on this leg of my travels because my backpack had never been out of my sight up until this point.  And while I should have known better and searched my bag before checking it, this doesn’t soften the blow.  Being exhausted from traveling for two days, I broke down and just cried—everything is on the hard drive.  We’ve been praying about this issue, and Jeff and Merideth (another gal who works here part time) have been on the phone and emailing the company for the past two days in hopes of finding the hard drive.  A silver lining to this tale is that Rebecca also brought an iPad and she said she would leave her charger and cable with me when she left and get another one back in the states—she is such a sweetheart and I appreciate her generous heart.

So I’ve been at the children’s home for a few days now and dealing with myriad emotions.  Overall, I am happy to be here.  My time schedule is pretty much switched, some of the kids and aunties remember me and are happy to see me.  One of the cooks, Peris, was so happy to see me that she didn’t want to let go of me!  Many of the aunties gave me hugs and welcomed me back too.  It is wonderful to be at a place that is so welcoming.  I’ve been spending some time with the severe needs kids, getting to know them and seeing where they are at, and I’m working on putting together a schedule for when I can meet with them individually to work with them on communication, muscle stretches, and walking.  I’m a bit overwhelmed with the need and my lack of training, but I also feel the Holy Spirit raising up to bridge that gap.  Please continue to pray for guidance and creativity as I begin to work with these kiddos.  God continues to break my heart for this group of kids here, and I’m experiencing so much joy just being with them. 

Flight from Seattle to Amsterdam

Flight One:

Danae (one of the girls on my team) and I had the distinct pleasure of being called to the gate desk to check our visas for Kenya—which we don’t get until we arrive in Nairobi… This minor set-back put us in the last 20 or so people to board the plane, but PTL (Praise the Lord)—there was space in the overhead for both of our carry-ons!

I was fortunate to get a seat next to Danae, but that meant that I was crammed like a sardine in a can on the inside of the row or four seats.  My rotund Eastern European friend quickly asserted armrest dominance, and I spent the majority of the 10 hour flight doing my best imitation of a sleeping bag in a compression sack.  A few times my EE friend got up and I jockeyed for position before he returned.  However, a wrong reach for entertainment or food stuffed me back in my sack.

About half way through the flight I reached for my water bottle.  Funny thing about high altitude—it pressurizes air, and normally this isn’t an issue with my wide-mouth bottle, but the one I had with me has a straw… Suffice it to say, Danae and I were doused with a fountain of water.  I’m grateful we received the majority of the spray instead of the people around us.  You should also note that at the beginning of the flight Danae had detailed her experience with the EXACT same problem—glad I’m a good listener…

Another interesting element on my flight was a gentleman with Tourette’s and his expression of this syndrome was fairly typical with uncontrollable noises and twitches.  Most of the other passengers responded kindly to the gentleman, but the German speaking guy sitting in front of him didn’t understand the gentleman’s noises/actions.  One of the flight attendants found someone who could speak to the guy and moved him to another seat.

Otherwise, the flight was uneventful, filled with movies, gross food every few hours, and organizing educational iPad apps.  I’ll tell you more about the rest of my travels in a later blog—it gets exciting!