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Posts Tagged Patient Stories

Josh & Julie Korn: The chief of the hospital

Some people are childish, even when they grow up. Others are somber and stern-faced even as infants, kind of like tiny adults, world-weary on the inside, but trapped in a fresh-faced exterior. That is how Maaouya is. He is a 4-year-old grownup, a serious kid, with a no-nonsense attitude that was evident from the moment I first saw him. I am tempted to describe him as “studious,” although, obviously, he is too young for school. But this is a helpful description, as it comes close to capturing his aloof demeanor. He floats above the fray with enviable scholarly detachment, and rarely talks or smiles, as though he is preoccupied with other, bigger problems.

But this is not to suggest that he is unhappy. Au contraire, he seems quite content to look on as the other children giggle and play. To look on, but not to participate in their games. There is a small but clearly discernible hint of condescension in the way he watches them. Almost pity. There activities are so far beneath him. So childish.

“Bless their little souls,” he seems to say, “When will they ever learn?”

Maaouya – not impressed.

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Being found by Jesus

Boukary

Boukary

Last week, we were filming in a village in Niamey, Niger, when I had what I consider to  be a “God-smack.”  Maybe you know what I mean. It is a moment when something happens that feels a bit like a smack from God, that not-so-gentle reminder that we aren’t seeing something clearly or have created something in our own mind inconsistent with God’s truth.

We were talking with Boukary.  He was sharing his story with us recalling how he suffered severe burns to his face and neck when he was just two years old.  He lived with his head attached to his neck for 15 years.  His life seemed resolved to continue without any hope of change.  He was a beggar cast out on the streets, bringing shame to his family.

One day a missionary found him and asked if he would like to be healed of his terrible condition.  The man knew of a new hospital in Niamey that had just opened.  Doctors there could help. Read the rest of this entry »

Josh & Julie Korn: Malika

Malika Hama has grown up at CURE.

Malika first came to the CURE hospital when she was only a few months old. She was born in Niamey, with a cleft lip, so her mother Saley brought her to the hospital for a consultation. She was very malnourished and very skinny, but always smiling. Our policy is that babies have to weigh at least 10 kilos before we operate on them, otherwise going under general anesthesia can be dangerous. We decided to keep both Saley and Malika at the hospital so we could try to fatten Malika up. Read the rest of this entry »

Josh & Julie Korn: Digging for a CURE

Husseini before.

Husseini Elhadj Omarou was born with cleft lip. His twin brother, Hassane, was also born with cleft lip. Hassane and Hussein are popular names for twins here in Niger. If you meet a Hassane or a Hussein, chances are they have a twin brother. Both Hassane and Husseini grew up dealing with their cleft lip, and it was not easy. Twins are already viewed as suspicious, and twins with matching cleft lips would be considered very bad luck. Luckily, they had each other for support. They were brothers and they took care of each other. Also, their father was the imam of the village, so nobody said anything to them. But when they went to other villages, people made fun of them and pointed and laughed, but life goes on. Hassane and Husseini grew up, and both got married and had children. Then Hassane died.

Now Husseini is 47 years old. His twin brother is gone, but he has other brothers, and they take care of him as well. Brothers are important in this family. Husseini’s brothers are also imams. Imams are also important in this family. Mahamadou is Husseini’s older brother. He took his father’s place as the imam of the village. Halidou is Husseini’s younger brother. He is also an imam, but here in Niamey. They both came with Husseini to the CURE hospital, and all sat down in a row according to their order of birth. It did not seem like they sat that way intentionally but out of habit.

Brothers

We asked them to tell us their story and how they came to the hospital. Mahamadou did most of the talking. He spoke on behalf of Husseini, and spoke as one who is used to speaking on behalf of the family. But he was not overbearing. He seemed like a kind and gentle older brother. Husseini did not hesitate to interject every once in awhile, but he was hard to understand. We met with him once before the operation, and his words were slurred because of the extent of the cleft lip. When we met with him after the operation, he was hard to understand because of the swelling. Halidou, for his part, mostly sat and listened. But he smiled in a friendly way, and nodded his head in agreement with everything that his brothers said.

The three brothers come from a village called Chinyerga, in the region of Sanam. It is in the desert. They are Tuareg, but they also speak Hausa. Their village is very remote, only about 300 km from Niamey, but in reality, worlds away. Over the years, Husseini made friends with a military man who is stationed in a town near his village. He would often go and visit him, especially on market days when he would be in town anyway. One day his friend told him that he had heard about a hospital in Niamey that treats cleft lips. Husseini was interested but not convinced. His friend told him that he would try to get more information about the hospital on his next trip to Niamey. He left, and when he came back he was excited to see Husseini. He brought before and after pictures of cleft lip patients that had been treated at the CURE hospital. This was all the proof Husseini needed. He started making plans to come to Niamey and immediately told his brothers about the hospital.

Husseini after.

Husseini knew that he would need money for his trip. The city is an expensive place. But he had nothing. So he decided to go to a place nearby that is known for its gold and its goldmines. These are not mines that are run by an enterprise or organization, just individual panhandlers. Husseini went and started digging for gold, but he knew that he was digging for a cure. Eventually he dug up enough, took it to the market and sold it for cash. Now he was ready.

The operation was a great success, and Husseini’s lip has healed wonderfully. He even started growing a mustache! He and his brothers were very happy with their experience at CURE, and told us over and over again how impressed they were with the warm reception they received. “You treat everyone the same,” Mahamadou said. “It does not matter if they are black or white, or Hausa, Tuareg or Djerma. Everyone is treated like a member of the family.” In other words, everyone is treated like a brother.

Originally posted at: http://joshjulieblog.wordpress.com/2012/06/01/digging-for-a-cure/.

Tom and Tim

A photo essay from CURE Zambia.

Meet the Machinko family - Mr. and Mrs. Machinko and their twin sons, Tom and Tim. Mr. Machinko is a landscape contractor that works on the CURE Zambia grounds. He is passionate about doing a good job to keep the hospital looking its best. He is even more passionate about telling people how CURE Zambia transformed the lives of his sons.

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Bernards: Patience

Tigist is a little girl who is 11 months old. The name Tigist means “patience.” Her mother is a young woman who loves her little girl very much. Her mother was taken by force and “married” illegally, meaning the man took her, raped her, and forced her to stay with him. Eventually she became pregnant. When the pregnancy became obvious to her “husband,” he no longer had use for her and kicked her out. According to the predominant religions of this area, it is not allowed to have sex with a pregnant woman, so she was dismissed.

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Josh & Julie Korn: Hauoa

Haoua has been at the hospital for a few weeks. She came with her mom, Hadiza, and her little brother, Ganiou. She came to the hospital because she had a big tumor on her leg, and she has had it since she was 5 years old. She is 11 years old now.

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Learning from Gerardo

When Gerardo first came into our clinic, he really caught my eye. Up until that point, I had only seen clubfoot patients who were babies. He was the first one I had seen who was walking, who had actually lived with the pain of his deformity. His father told us that he is a very intelligent boy and that he loves to play soccer. He said that with two good feet, Gerardo would be able to play on his school soccer team the next year.

During that first visit, Gerardo’s emotional separation and face devoid of expression showed clearly that his condition weighed heavily on him and who he was becoming as a person. Yet, just moments later, after his first cast was put on, a smile beamed across his face. This, perhaps, was what really drew me to admire this young boy; although he had a long and sometimes really painful road ahead of him, he knew what the outcome was going to be and could smile because of that. Hope was handed to him that day, and that’s all he needed to know that whatever he had to go through, in the end it would be worth it. Read the rest of this entry »

Bernards: A new lease on life

Kasahun, before surgery

Kasahun is 38 years old. It didn’t occur to me until later that he is younger than I am. He looked so much older and just plain worn out. You may remember his photo from a few weeks ago –  before he had his tumor taken out. He had the largest tumor of the ones that came a few weeks ago; actually, it turned out to be two different tumors, one from his mandible (jaw) and another from his maxilla (cheek bone.)

Kasahun was born and raised in Gondar, Ethiopia. (Yes, very similar in name to a kingdom in the Lord of the Rings trilogya series not for the faint of heart when it comes to reading, like some friends of mine…) It is in the northern part of Ethiopia and has a rich history. Gondar has ancient castles from days when it was an imperial capital. Read the rest of this entry »

Jonathan and David

The Banda family: Jonathan, David, and their proud father.

Brothers Jonathan and David sharing a laugh outside of Beit CURE Hospital in Zambia. The boys now have a new sense of joy and confidence after their surgery at CURE.

Blood runs deep. There is an unseen connection between brothers. Even though you may not have similar interests, you still have a strong bond. But what if you not only grew up with someone with that blood connection, but you also shared something no one else you know shared: the same disability. One that was obvious to anyone who saw you. One that made you want to stay in your house and not go out.  One that your classmates made fun of you for.  One that, in your father’s own words, made you “laughingstocks” of the entire town.

This was Jonathan and David’s daily life.

One of the great joys of my job is not just that I make a living telling stories (which by nature I’m hard-wired to do), but within those stories I get to see chapters that not everyone else does. Sometimes, those “bonus” chapters are so good I need to go back and rewrite the entire novel.

This is what I did with Jonathan and David.

I first became aware of these two boys when my media intern extraordinaire, Stiv Twigg, sent me some videotape of their story from his time in Zambia. I immediately set to work making a video about them; they had such joy and charisma, and the father seemed so thankful. Stiv shot some great footage of them in their home doing an interview and outside their home doing karate and other fun boy stuff. Read the rest of this entry »