life and death situations

My nose would not stop bleeding. It was the middle of the night, I was 10 years old, my nose started bleeding and I could not get it to stop. I didn't want to wake my mom up because I thought she would be upset for waking her up for a silly nose bleed. And so the hours passed and it kept bleeding. 6am rolled around, I heard my sister get up and get ready to go babysit some missionary kids down the road, my nose was still bleeding. A few hours before that I had noticed large red spots in my eyes just below my pupils. I decided that it was stupid to tell Renee my nose had been bleeding for about 4 hours so I sat in my room and waited to hear my mom or dad get up. 8am rolled around...still bleeding...and I hear the bathroom door shut. They are awake! I give them a few minutes...my mom is either in the living room or kitchen and I walk up to her. 'Mom, my nose won't stop bleeding...it's been bleeding since the middle of the night...what am I supposed to do?!' I don't quite remember what she said but I know she whipped out her 'Where There Is No Doctor' book, made a few phone calls to some other missionaries, gave me a trash can and told me to bend over it and let my nose drip into it so she could measure it, made me bite down on this plastic thing while bending over the trash can. I remember getting dizzy. I remember my parents deciding to take me to a hospital. I remember sitting down at the table and feeling very hot. I remember my dad got a fan and put it right in front of my face. I remember my head falling backwards and my mom saying my name over and over, I remember my parents helping me walk to our car. I remember my dad driving very fast and the air blowing all on me because I was so hot.

luanshya hospital...

We got to the hospital and I don't remember much. I do know they took me into this room...it had an operating table in it...and they stuffed my nose with gauze...I mean they shoved that stuff up there so hard, it hurt SO bad! Then they put a huge bandage over the bottom and admitted me. I was 10 and probably 5'9"...most kids when they are 10 are like 5'...most Zambian kids when they are 10 are like tiny...so the children's ward at the hospital where I was admitted had cribs at beds. A 5'9" little American girl was not going to fit in a crib, so I was admitted to the women's ward. The head nurse was not happy that my mom was camped out at my side. There were no private rooms...just one big room with multiple beds. There was a lady dying of AIDS across the room, two ladies with malaria and me...the girl with the nose bleed! 

IT WHAT?...

I was diagnosed with ITP...a blood disorder where your white blood cells attack and diminish your platelets causing your blood not to clot and so therefore you start bleeding. In addition to my nose bleeding for hours and hours, blood has started to pool in the whites of my eyes and just under my skin. The doctor came to my bed and said something about having 5 platelets. My mom asked a nurse or someone what that meant and they said it meant that I had 5,000 platelets per unit of blood in my body, which was low but not DRASTICALLY low. It turns out that I in fact had 5 platelets per unit of blood in my body but I think the nurses mistake was a gift from God to my mom...so she wouldn't panic more than she probably already was.

the decision to stay...

my Aunt was an RN and in addition to being in contact with her, my parents stayed in contact with some other doctors in the US that confirmed what they were doing in Zambia is what they would be doing in the States and so we stayed.

my lovely stay in the best hospital in Zambia...

I needed a blood transfusion and my dad, being the wonderful father he is, decided the blood I would get would come from him. The nurse that put the thing in to get his blood apparently was crazy and hit his muscle...the whole top of his arm was black and blue and it scared me half to death. I think that scared me more than anything...apparently I didn't know I was two steps away from deaths door!! The tube in the IV I was given was just long enough to reach my hand...which meant I couldn't really move my hand much. It was SO annoying. The nurse that had the day shift was a horrible taker of blood...I would cry when I saw her coming. My dad came one day to stay with me while my mom when home to take a shower, he sat on my bed. The head doctor came in the room about that time and was not very happy to see him sitting on my bed. I've never seen my dad get up that fast! I was so hot that I sang Christmas songs to try and cool myself off. I wasn't that scared...because my mom didn't seem scared...and for that I am thankful.

going home...

I was in the hospital for three days and I got to go home. I had to take steroids for over a year and had to go and get my blood drawn and a platelet count every week or so for a while. The hospital I was in and had to have my follow up visits at was a government hospital...when you went in you got a number. You waited in the waiting room for your number to be called. I remember waiting forever sometimes for my name to be called...not fun times.

I'll never forget the doctor that was in charge of my case...Dr. Mumba. He saved my life...with the help of God, of course.