I just heard from Kendall. He sounded good. He said they're working at Hospital Adventista Diquini. Diquini is also the name of the area. I just googled it and I think I found the exact spot on a satellite map. Click here to see it.
Kendall said they've been leaving for the hospital around 7 am and return around 7pm. They have a 45 minute drive to the hospital from where they are staying.
Kendall didn't even seem to know about the after shock that was bothering me so much last night. He said the night before they felt one while they were in their tent, but Jared, who was on an air mattress, didn't even feel it.
I asked Kendall if it has been traumatic for him at the hospital. He said not really, but that maybe it will hit him later. Sounds like he's just doing what he needs to do right now.
He said it's really unorganized. They have patients out in the yard. When it's time for surgery, they go look for the patient. When they find the patient they bring them in for surgery and sometimes they end up refusing surgery because they don't want an amputation. Then they go look for the next person on the list.
I can't imagine. My first thought is, "Get the amputation! It's better than dying from gangrene!" But we would grieve the loss, deal with the emotions, get a prosthesis and lots of physical therapy and learn to work with it. Who knows if/when these people will be able to get a prosthesis. If they don't work in an office, how will they work without a leg? I just can't imagine the loss this would be in the situation so many people in Haiti are currently in.
Kendall said he hasn't seen any violence or anything like it. Where there are lines, people seem orderly. And he feels like they're staying in a good place.
So I'm feeling good since talking to Kendall. I was getting worried he wasn't going to call tonight either and just felt like I really needed to talk to him. It was good to hear that he's doing well.
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Lao-tzu
July 1, 2008
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
4 comments:
Thanks Karen so glad you got to talk to him and that things are going not to bad. I'll talk to ya later.
mom
Thanks Karen! I am so glad you were able to connect with him. Glad to hear that he is doing ok. and that you are feeling better too.
thanks for the update karen! i'm so glad he's been able to call and that things are going pretty well for them. i'll keep praying for all of you.
love, kirst
What an amazing opportunity for Kendal! I can only imagine the stories he will have to share... plus being around the devastation would impact you for life!!
We are so blessed and take so many things for granted.
Post a Comment