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A Day in the Life of a west African Mission Hospital

Dr John Baigent, Hôpital de Meskine, Maroua, North Cameroon

The daily morning ward rounds always start for me in the Paediatric Ward, and lately it has been full to overflowing. The rainy season inevitably brings out both the mosquitoes and the children with malaria. Recently we have had a number with their GE blood smear result 'fortement positif' and we have waited for days for them to come out of their coma.

However, Laddi didn't come with malaria. She was nine years old, and as I walked into the ward that morning I could smell her before I saw her. She had been bitten on her right foot by a snake eleven days previously. After three days at home, she had been taken to the local Health Centre. They had looked after her for eight days before referring her to us at Hôpital de Meskine in the Extreme Nord de Cameroun, West Africa. I asked the nurse to remove the dirty dressing that covered her leg below the knee (apart from her toes), and they looked as black as coal. Underneath the traditional leaves, which are used here as a local version of Tulle Gras, I found a leg as dead as could be. The white greasy flesh, which was appearing where her brown skin was rubbing off, told me we had no choice but to amputate the leg to save her life, so I did just that.

This was my first time back in the operating room after thirteen months back in the UK. It was a great joy to be working with Barbar, Isaac, Sadjo, Ishmael and Njidda again. 'Hokkam Labi', I said, showing them I still remembered a bit of Fulfulde. They passed me the knife and we took the leg off above the knee, about mid thigh. That would provide a good stump for prosthesis. Later that day, through a lateral incision, we gouged out the dead bone from the femur of an 11-year-old lad who had a terrible osteomyelitis. It went well. We found two big pieces of sequestrum and pulled them out. Now we can only wait and pray. And pray we do, before every operation. We are so conscious that the Lord helps us every time!

This is our third time here at Meskine. Learning of the need for a doctor at the hospital in 1996 and then hearing our Pastor preach on the text 'Son, go work today in My vineyard', I took early retirement from General Practice and came here with my only preparation being my attendance at the CMF/MMA HealthServe 'Residential Refresher Course'. I cannot speak highly enough about this annual fortnight at Oak Hill College.

Having arrived in Cameroon I found the pathology absolutely overwhelming, as was the French! I don't mind admitting that during the first few weeks I often felt like running home! There was no one to whom I could write the familiar letter: 'Thank you for seeing this patient who...' However, with the Lord's help I found that the Refresher Course had really given me a foundation without which I could not have endured the six months that Lesley and I came here to serve. Then, a few months later we were back again, this time for twelve months. Then last summer we returned yet again - this time for two years.

The hospital was opened in 1994 as a bridge to reach the Fulani people group with the aim of establishing a church among them in the north of Cameroon. This very autumn, just seven years after the work began we have seen the first husband and wife come to Christ. She is Fulani. He was a Muslim. The exciting thing is that now a second couple has accepted the Lord Jesus as Saviour. Moreover, their 13-year-old daughter believes as well!

A 'Prayer Round' every Thursday evening at the hospital gives a good opportunity for us to share the Lord Jesus with patients and their 'gard-malades' - their relative who cares for them while they are in-patients. We go in small mixed teams of two or three, Africans and Western Missionaries, from bed to bed and simply say that we have come to pray with them for God's touch of healing. Most accept prayer and some want to talk more about Jesus.

Habsatou was one with whom we spoke. She came here from a village in the mountains that border Nigeria. She was a widow and for eight years she had struggled to bring up her three children alone. Then she started to lose weight and cough. We found she had pulmonary TB. However, she didn't just go home with her TB medicines, she also took a Fulfilde Bible. This was one of the miracles we see here. Since her husband's death, she had continued to follow his religion, Islam. Here at the hospital we had opportunity to share Jesus with her, not only in words but also in compassion and care. Every day here starts with 'Devotions' at 6.40 a.m. Members of the staff, missionaries and some patients come together to sing to the Saviour, to hear from His Word and to pray for the day's work. Habsatou cannot read but her three children can. That means four people will now be reading God's Word in her home!

One afternoon I was called to the Emergency Room to see a man who was gravely ill. His right arm was very swollen and like Laddi, I could smell him before I saw him. Under the dressing on his hand was a large offensive ulcer. One of the nurses said: 'Gas Gangrene'. I'd never seen that in the UK, so I hurried to the books. It told me: 'Amputate the limb six inches above the spongy swelling to save the life'. We took him to theatre and as the swelling was above the elbow, I took the whole arm off at the shoulder. He was diabetic and had a stormy post-op period, which lasted some three months. When I arrived at his bedside one Thursday evening during this time, he simply said, 'I want to repent'. After we talked a little he did just that. In front of his wife and three daughters he prayed in French: 'God, I have sinned against you and I have done wrong things to men in my village. I want to repent'. A few weeks later he went home. Three months later he returned with another problem. A few days later his Pastor came to the hospital and baptised him. Five days later he died. Well his body did. He is now in his Master's presence.

Oh, yes! The morning we took Laddi's dressing off and her mother saw the amputated leg for the first time I saw a tear roll silently down her dark brown cheek. Yesterday, three months after she went home Laddi was back in the Dispensary. Bright eyed and full of life. Her stump was healed wonderfully and she could walk so fast with those crutches now. And no wonder, for she was walking right to the physiotherapy unit where she was going to have her first examination for a prosthesis.

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