April 1, 2006

Little pieces of tissue

I’ve been waiting for two months for this information to arrive in the mail from Blantyre, here in Malawi. On January 31, 2006, I met with seven women individually at Mulanje Mission Hospital for an outpatient procedure that involved removing a tiny piece of human tissue from the uterine cervix. These seven women had been identified through a screening program we are running to prevent cervical cancer, the most common cancer of women in Africa. The tissue was removed in order to know whether or not cancer was actually present, and if it was, what should be done about it. Now it is the evening of March 31, 2006, and my medical colleague has brought me the reports.

As with so many things in Africa, you have to wait. Phone calls with patient and polite pleading and personal visits to the distant lab usually do result in getting reports. Things take time in Africa, more time than seems necessary, but one must be patient or be unhappy. Happiness is better.

Now my next job as a gynecologist is to locate these women and explain what these reports on little pieces of their tissue mean to them. They all came to me faithfully two weeks ago, when I had hoped to have the results. They all patiently agreed to return after two weeks because the reports were not ready. So many things happen in the lives of women in Africa. A child or other relative is sick and must go to the hospital. If the relative is admitted to the hospital, the woman must stay to cook food for the patient and tend to their needs. There are funerals that must be attended, with all-night sessions of mourning for the departed. The maize must be harvested and allowed to dry in the sun. While the maize is drying it must be guarded from robbers who would come and steal it.

For some, the news is good. The report says there is only a mild condition that can be watched carefully. For others, the news is that they need an operation that can be done at Mulanje Mission Hospital for about 25 dollars. For others, the news is disturbing and involves the word “cancer.” Cancer is there. The operation cannot be done here because it requires special equipment and personnel. One must make the long journey to Blantyre to see a specialist. One must find three people to give blood before the operation. For one woman, there is no operation that can be contemplated. The problem is inoperable. We can offer our continuing care and concern and medicines for pain, but we cannot offer a cure for the cancer.

The pieces of paper are before me, representing hope and fear for many families. Lord, I thank you for this work that you have given me in your name. Lord, I know that sometimes my work is so imperfect and incomplete that I am ashamed and discouraged. But You encourage me. Lord, help me to do my very best for these, your children, whom you have brought to me. Father of light, shed light on our world and on our struggles for health and wholeness.

Sue

The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 337