Where Does it Hurt the Most?

Jul 22, 2024 7:35 pm

So many wonder if the boys are in a lot of pain.

Looking back on a scene from one of my worst nightmares it seems like there should have been screams punctuating the air.

Instead the boys were quiet and lay very still.

When the doctor walked into the hospital treatment room he asked Stewart,

“Where does it hurt?”

Although this was around five hours post burns Stewart's response to the doctor was simply,

“My foot.”

The nurses had put the IV line into a vein in his foot and were pumping the fluid in quite fast.

The doctor looked at Stewart’s arms, face and chest covered in burns and blisters.

He looked at Luke and I and could only laugh.

**********************************

Months ago was the first I could remember stepping into the burn ward.

It was Christmas Eve and our CAM team along with the Open Hands staff had gone to the government hospital to carol for the children in the wards.

I love visiting the maternity wards.

I love the wards with the young children and their mamas.

I never really felt called to the burn wards.

But this time we sang for the children in the pediatric side of the burn ward.

One of the hospital volunteers beckoned me over to pray for a young man on the other side.

Most of our team eventually followed.

There was a young boy lying in a bed with a fabric draped iron dome covering most of his body.

He had been climbing a pole to collect some type of metal and was electrocuted.

In a few days he was to start high school.

The foraged metal was most likely to make a few shillings to help with his expenses.

Now he was laying in a bed in the hospital recovering from terrible burns over most of his body.

I turned around and saw the person laying in the first hospital bed on the left.

I stopped myself before I involuntarily gasped.

No one wants to know the sight of them scares the living.

Most of his body was wrapped in gauze that looked a few days too old.

The face, with its beads of bodily fluid running out from the mass of unhealed tissue was haunting.

There was no IV to replace what seemed like his life draining away.

The worst was his eyes. He was so clearly suffering.

A few songs of Christmas cheer and a prayer from the group didn’t seem enough.

The smell of that ward and it’s faces stayed with me for days.

***********************************

A few weeks later I visited the ward again.

This time I went by invitation from my sweet friend Amber.

She hadn’t forgotten the suffering young man.

In the far corner was the fabric draped iron dome covering the young boy.

And there was our friend on the first hospital bed on the left.

He was still lying there and suffering.

After our first visit we had asked if he could have an IV some of the time.

They had also said the hospital didn’t have the cream to help dressings not be so dry and painful to change.

These were just little things we could get to help him feel better.

From the corners of the pediatric side we could hear the loud cries of children.

Was it time for their dry dressings to be changed?

We spent a bit of time reading scriptures and praying over the suffering young man.

And we found out more of his story.

He was burning off a field when the dry chaff erupted and surrounded him with fire.

His only chance for survival was to run through the flames.

We also learned that he had been here in this hospital bed for months.

It was too much for the mind to comprehend.

He was suffering in this hospital bed from burns for months on end.

The volunteer wanted us to pray for another victim that had been badly burned.

Because Amber had her baby, only I could step over to the pediatric and women’s side.

As we walked she told me the story.

This woman had been so depressed and full of despair she doused herself with gasoline and lit a match.

If it hadn’t been for a passerby who put out the flames and brought her to the hospital, she would have died.

The form laying in the bed was a shock to my senses.

I prayed for no visible reaction.

No one wants to know the sight of them scares the living.

I had never seen anything like this.

I hated that the thought of the Christians Nero lit as torches to warm his gardens came to my mind.

That was just what the poor woman before me looked like.

She whispered when we talked to her.

Such pain … such suffering.

She was still a person trapped inside in a badly charred body.

There was nothing to do but lift up my hands.

There was no prayer but to plead God’s mercy and healing for everyone in that ward.

The image of that woman stayed with me for days.

At night I would close my eyes and ask the Lord’s angels to be with her and me.

**************************

Weeks passed by.

We were once again in the burn ward with a visitor from the States.

So many of the patients were the same.

They had come to know us by name.

Though far from healed the suffering young man was actually improving.

It seemed impossible he was surviving.

We had advocated for his care and even supplied the hospital with some honey to help heal his wounds.

We sang around his bed.

Even the other patient’s visitors joined us in singing.

The air was almost celebratory.

In the back corner was our young friend under the fabric framed metal dome.

He was slowly getting well.

I asked about my badly charred friend on the woman’s side.

I had prayed for her so much.

I had prayed not only for her body but that God would heal her mind and heart.

“She suddenly passed a week ago.”

I had been receiving regular reports that she was improving.

It hadn’t seemed possible but she was up and walking around and even trying to sing.

No one had known how badly her throat and lungs had been burned.

One morning she collapsed and instantly her life was gone.

For a long time I would think of her and just feel an ache deep inside.

*************************************

The Monday before our sons’ accident I received this message.

“What happened was so sudden, no one saw it coming and no one was expecting it.

One evening he was unable to eat, was throwing up, finally he was unable to breathe and was put on oxygen.

In the morning, he rested.”

After staying in the hospital for a year our friend who ran through the flames to save his life had died.

We had just seen him two weeks before.

As we approached the burn ward he was sitting in a grassy spot in his wheel chair.

He was still bandaged over so much of his body.

From time to time we had helped with the medicines he needed that the hospital couldn’t afford to source.

The nurses and doctors in the ward had come to know Christian Aid Ministries and our whole team.

As I thought of this sadness I had no idea of the trial of fire we would soon pass through.

*************************

As I looked at Stewart’s body burning I think I stopped breathing.

I was sure that soon I would see his features beginning to char and melt.

The thought of my own child looking like the victims we had seen in the burn ward was too, too much.

For Stewart’s sake I couldn’t react.

No one wants to know the sight of them scares the living.

Adrenaline is nature’s amazing gift in these moments. Even though I used my bare hands to put out the flames they weren’t harmed.

And then there was that supernatural storehouse of grace helping me stay calm.

So many silent and unspoken prayers…

So much to be thankful for.

**********************

Hours later we sat in the newest hospital in town.

As my son lay on the bed in the treatment room the nurses walked in with an iron dome.

I watched as they positioned it over him and draped it with white fabric.

Surely this was a bad dream.

Maybe there was never a loud explosion.

Could it be that I wasn’t looking at my own son with drooping features from severe burns?

And was there really not another one at home who needed our help even if his burns weren’t as severe?

Surely I would wake up and check on all my children like I did every night and find them peacefully sleeping.

This time I didn’t wake up.

This was truly our reality.

As we advocated for Stewart’s best care I didn’t miss the stark unfairness.

Not so far away from us was the other hospital and it’s burn ward.

I was glad when they finally removed the fabric draped iron dome because it was getting in the way.

It reminded me too much of what I had seen that had given me an ache deep down inside.

*******************

Stewart has been home for over a week.

His healing has been amazing.

To God be all the glory.

Our lives revolve around changing the dressings twice a day.

The community has rallied in the most beautiful way.

Stewart has been brave and so patient.

Steele’s face healed quickly.

His ears were burnt the worst, even worse than Stewart’s.

We continue to dress them and spots on his neck and shoulders that were deeper burns.

*********************

I never felt called to the burn ward.

But when I think of how often our children have visited there in the last year I see the sovereignty of God.

No one wants to know the sight of them scares the living.

Stewart is blessed with family and caregivers who can see his wounds and be ok.

When visitors come and get tears in their eyes or stifle gasps at the sight of his bandaged face and arms and upper body it’s another stark reminder.

A reminder of how much the boy underneath all the gauze and dressings is loved.

Though I never felt called to the burn ward, I’ve wished so much for a way to help the suffering we see there.

I can’t help but know in my heart that God has a purpose in all this.

There’s a plan far beyond what any of us can see.

God knows…

And He does everything well.

****************

P.S.

There’s not only physical pain right now.

After we got home from the hospital Sunday evening we needed to go back to town to pick up a hospital bed for Stewart. We thought that would make it easier for him to rest well.

At first we were going to just improvise for the night. The nursing center in town said they wanted us to come and pick the bed now and not wait till morning.

Verlin Torkelson’s had just arrived to help us. Because the men were all helping with the dressing change Luke asked Sterling and Stennet to go and pick up the bed in town. It was sometime after 8 pm.

Verlin’s son also went along with our boys.

So many details could be shared. On their way home, with the hospital bed inside of the van, a pedestrian stood up right in the path of their vehicle. They were on an overpass in the far right lane and couldn’t go over because of the guardrail in the middle.

There was no way to stop in time.

The pedestrian was pronounced dead at the scene. We grieve the loss for his family.

The vehicle sustained sizable injuries. We’re grateful the boys weren’t injured.

When the boys called and asked Luke to come right away my first response was, “Oh Lord, please have mercy.” I had to think of Job.