From the Field

I once had a professor who boasted that he only ever got haircuts in foreign countries.  Whenever his hair was getting a bit long he’d say, “Time to schedule another trip.”  He often spoke about writing a book that detailed his different travels and the experiences that he’s had getting his hair cut all around the world.  At the time, I thought it was just his way of being unique and a bit eccentric.  Today, as I was sitting in the little ten by five foot room waiting to have my haircut, my old professor came to mind and I smiled as I took in the sights around me.  A broken mirror rested on a “desk” constructed of second hand wood.  Wires ran across the walls carrying electricity from an outside generator.  A 15 inch TV played gospel music videos (yes, in DRC, that is a thing) through heavy static.  Hair from a day’s worth of clients lined the floor together with a few dozen razor blades.  As I sat in this little room with blaring music and no air circulation, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Well, this is quite an experience.”  For starters, I usually cut my hair at a #3, which is a pretty short haircut by US standards.  However, today as with the other haircuts I’ve had in Congo, they had to dig through an old bucket full of a bunch of spare parts to find my #3.  After blowing the dust off and spraying…
Source: Just a bit off the top. from Fothergill – Africa

One Wednesday a month when I open my clinic door, to call for the next patient, I find the face of a little boy staring up at me, his mom or dad right behind him.  Ambane is the boy, and he has ALL – Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia and is in remission.  He doesn’t smile or say much, but he comes each month and allows me to check his blood and then give him chemotherapy, like we have for the past 2 years.  He use to cry when he saw me, then he would only cry when we put in the IV for his chemo, now he just watches the needle go in without flinching.  He has had more needles in his little body at the age of 5 then most people have their whole lives. Although Ambane doesn’t smile much, his parents sure do.  They smile because all four of their sons are still alive, because Ambane’s hair is growing back, because Ambane is able to go and collect water and firewood for their house.  They smile because he is beating the cancer, something I doubted would happen because in my experience, we don’t beat cancer in PNG. A few pts after Ambane, a little girl walks into my room with her arm in a sling.  I only saw the pain of the girl’s face and so I focused on her and asked what happened.  I found out she fell and after examining her arm, I set out to write…
Source: A mom's smile from Erin Meier – Asia Pacific

7.5 years ago, I came as the new doctor and benefited from the wisdom of those who had come before me – Andy, Susan, Scott, Bill and Jim.  Their investment in me has molded and shaped me into the missionary physician I am today, having learned much along the way.  Now I find myself as one of the older missionaries who gets the opportunity to help guide and teach some of our new doctors (Katherine, Ben, Mark, Ted and Imelda) as they are being molded formed into missionary physicians.  We all have different talents and different interests in medicine, but we are all here to serve the suffering and hurting in PNG.  Together we help to shine the light of Christ a little brighter in Papua New Guinea.  I am thankful to be a part of this missionary family and this team of doctors.
Source: The doctors at Kudijp Nazarene Hospital from Erin Meier – Asia Pacific