Nov. 21, 2007 - Thankfulness Unplanned

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As I watched the policeman follow the stretcher through the emergency room, I thought to myself in retrospect, I never had really pictured myself in this situation. Yet there we were awaiting the results of the exam.

The week had started pretty normal, as any other. I was busy about the work of the church, and Marla had her hands full with Samara, and arranging our upcoming travels to Sao Paulo. We had been putting off the visit to the nearest US Consulate since Samara was born. We knew we needed to go register her as an American, and apply for a passport and social security card for some time, but the very thought of such a hurried trip to the world's second or third biggest city with a baby, made it easy for other things, to become priority. But finally the plans had been made. The appointment had been set up, the bus tickets purchased, and a cash advance given to cover all the consular fees. We were to leave on Monday night at 11:40pm, travel through the night, arrive in Sao Paulo at 5:45am the next morning, take a taxi to the US Consulate, have our appointment at 9:30am, go back to the bus station to meet some friends for lunch then finish off back at the bus station to meet our 7pm bus that would bring us back to Londrina. That Friday night Samara woke up with a fever. This being her first sickness of any kind, we were a little nervous. So at 4am (our time), we called one of our good friends in the states who works as a nurse at a medical hotline. She put our minds to rest and we went back to sleep. The next day (Saturday) Samara's fever was higher, but we kept it under control with some infant Tylonal. Sunday, her fever went even higher and she was more sluggish, and lost her appitite. Sunday night we resolved to take her to her pediatritian to get his advise on our upcoming lightning trip to Sao Paulo. Monday morning Samara's fever had broken, but Marla took her to the doctor anyway, just to get his opinion. He said she was fine and that we should go ahead with our travel plans, so we started to get ready. Monday afternoon the fever returned but only for a few hours. We went to the bus station like normal, got checked in, and boarded, all with her asleep in her car seat next to Marla. She had a rough night waking up screaming every couple of hours, which in turn woke up everybody else on the bus every couple of hours, but what do you expect, it's a night on the bus right. Everything went according to schedual when we got to Sao Paulo. We got off the bus, took a taxi to the consulate. Arrived earily enough to pick up breakfast at a little place across the street, had our meeting, and by 10:30, had all of our applications submitted, and were walking out....mission accomplished. We were feeling pretty good about ourselves on a bright sunny day, and had an hour to spare before we needed to make the 30 minute trip back to the bus station to meet our friends. In the taxi we had passed a nice looking mall, so decided to return there to kill the hour. Being a city holiday, the stores in the mall were set to open at noon. The very time we had marked to meet our friends. So for the next hour we strolled through the mostly empty mall and wished we could stay a little longer to take of advantage of American stores such as Applebee's and Starbucks, (which we hadn't seen since leaving the United States over a year ago.) But a promise is a promise, so we left the mall, and took the subway to return back to the bus station.

Like planned we met our friends, being a little late because we had never taken the subway in Sao Paulo, and it took longer than we thought. We got caught up over a fast food meal in the bus station before going with them to a different mall, that was on their way home. All during this time Samara was extra fussy, and we were not able to comfort her. It was then that we began to notice a rash that was starting on Samara's face. We'd been told that a rash often follows a fever and not to worry so we continued with our friends. Because of a church comittment they had made much earlier, our friends Marcus and Julianna could only hang out a couple hours, but it was great to see how they were doing. Because most of everything else in the city was closed due to the holiday, the mall was packed to such a point that navigating our stroller through the crowd became pretty difficult. It was there that Samara started to scream. And I'm not talking cry, but scream. She would not be consold, she would not calm down. So after about half an hour, we found a babychanging room, where Marla was able to calm her down give her some pain medicine and eventually put her to sleep in her stroller. We had just a few minutes left to be with our friends before we walked them back the the Mall exit closest to the subway stop, and hugged them goodbye. About 5 minutes later, Samara woke up again screaming and wrything. We tried a quiet dark hall, just to get her calmed down, but to no avail. After another 20 minutes we desicded to look for a pharmacy in the mall. After the security guard told us the phamacy was on the ground floor we broke the big mall "no-no" and took the stroller down 2 escalators, to arrive at where we thought Samara would find relief. The pharmasist was very helpful and very concerned, and Samara was growing more and more agitated. Her rash had spread over her body. They called a nearby doctor's office, only to find it closed because of the holiday. They told us the name of a hospital and suggested that we leave immediatly. Now in my mind I'm thinking: babies cry right? Granted Samara doesn't scream that much, but she'll calm down right? And the rash is weird, but our bus leaves in 3 hours and we need to be on it. After one deeply worried look from Marla I said, "what was the name of the hospital again?" A fellow customer, Marine, said "I'll go with you if you want." Marla shot me another look, the kind that said "she's a complete stranger, this is a big city, we'll be fine." As the pharmasist walked us to the nearest taxi, I looked infront of us, and saw that lady from the phamacy and thought "I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm not even from here, and we'll need all the help that we can get." So I yelled to her, and she hopped in the front seat.

Marina paid the taxi as he dropt us off at the emergency exit. The hospital attendant told us we'd have to enter from the other side of the hospital, but viewing the condition of Samara, ushered her and Marla right in, as Marina and I went to the main entrance. When we entered, Marla was already there giving the clerk some of Samara's infomation. When the asked for local contact information, Marina gave hers. Screaming the way she was, Samara went right to the front of most lines, and with in 30 minutes of being in the pharmacy, she was in front of a very good pediatrician. Marla and our new friend Marina were with her, as we all couldn't go, and I wouldn't be as much of a help a Marina could be. After a few minutes, the four left the examining room, with a request for 3 tests. One blood, one urine, and one for Rubela. Once a fever had been ruled out, all the nurses seemed to pay no mind to the screaming infant in front of them. That's when Marina really stepped in. I'm not sure what she said, but what ever it was, we were moving once again. By 5:30pm we were standing at the door where they take blood tests. The room was small, and there were seats for people to wait for the results of their tests in the larger room in front, which just happened to be the emergancy room where the ambulances were bringing injured people from all over. As I stood talking with Marina, I looked in and saw that they had just tried to get a blood sample from Samara but had missed, she was screaming and flailing, and her blood was all over. That was the last straw for Marla, in tears she left the room and said "Micah they want me to hold her down, and I just can't, I just can't." So in I went, looked our screaming little girl in the eye as I pinned her shoulders to the examining table so they could take her blood. The blood was drawn, the bandaid put on, and there we were on those seats in the emergancy room awaiting the result that were supposed to come by 8:30pm (an hour and a half after our bus was to have left for Londrina). Marina took the paper so that she could get the rhubella test that would be available in 10 days. We exhanged e-mail addresses, hugs, and with that our Sao Paulo angel left the hospital.

So there the three of us quietly sat. In the emergancy room of a hospital I never even knew the name of. In a neigborhood, I don't think I could ever get back to if I had to, once again alone in one of the world's biggest city, knowing that we'd miss our bus home. We were physically exausted from the previous night's bus ride. Emotionally spent from the previous 4 hours. Yet I tell you the truth, the longer we sat there, the more we realized how truely small our problem was and the more thankful we became.

The first guy they wheeled in, the guy that was followed in by the police officer, already had a bandage on his ankel. From what I gathered he had no documentation with his motorcycle when he wrecked it and was looking at loosing his motorcycle and a pretty massive fine. He was more angry than hurt. He hobbled off the bed with the help his family. The next that came through the doors, came through being carried in the big arms of who I imagined was her husband. She was sobbing grasping at her leg as he layed her down on the stretcher before checking in with the attendant. The nurses that entered just walked around her talking between themselves seeminly unaware of her existence. The next guy that walked in was dressed as if he was a butcher. His clothes looked as if he had come off of a motorcycle and his left hand was covered by a bloody rag. As I was talking with the guy about getting Samara's blood test results a police "special unit" vehicle backe up to the two big doors. In the back a dead kid. One police officer grabbed his hands, one his legs, and without a stretcher they carried him through the room, down the hall. I had not seen it, but when I left the room, Marla's hand was over her mouth, and there was a trail of blood from the back of the vehicle down the hall. About that time a nurse told us a more quiet place would be better for Samara to wait for the test result. So after walking a bit through the hospital we found a dark quite hall. Unlike what we've found in the states, people are allowed in much of the hospital, and there are waiting rooms for different departments sprinkled all over. We sat in some seats, in that dark hall and just exhaled. After about 20 minutes, a young guy wheeled what was probably his sister or his girlfriend in a wheelchair into the room next to where we were sitting. From the way it looked, we guessed the young lady was anorexic. He left her in the room with the doctor and sat just a few seats down from us. His shoulders sank as he sat, and his head fell into his hands, the strength that he had been showing just a few minutes earlier obviously exausted. With his fingers in his corn rowes he just sat there thinking, just a few seats down from me. I had just turned off my mp3 player and was gathing my courage so that I could ask him if I could pray from him when Samara woke up and started craying again. Then the mt arrived and began talking with him, and I kicked myself for the missed opportunity. On our way back to get the blood results we passed a hallway that was completely crowded, and one lady, about 50 years, old crying unconsolably by herself. And I thought to myself, that I had not seen so much emotional brokeness since the revival meetings when I was a kid, but unlike those meetings, there was no one here to comfort. It was like the Bible stories that you hear. People sick, or dying who fall at Jesus's feet. People are still sick, people are still dying. What a ministry one could have at a hospital so filled with brokeness.

After not being able to obtain a urine sample because Samara had been eating and drinking so little, (combined with an incompitent nurse who was assigned to extract the sample from Samara, only to strip her and prep her, then leave the room for several minutes only to return to find she had gone pee in his absence and the only urine that she had let go since 6 in the morning was now dripping down the bed)...lets see, where was I. Oh yeah, we left the hospital at 8:00pm with the results of Samara's blood test in hand. The pediatrician who first attended us had left, so we just took the results with us and hurried down the dark empty streets towards the subway station, Marla carring our sleeping baby, and I carrying everything else. We used our last two subway tickets, and entered the train. We had about 25 minutes to reherse what we would say to the bus company begging them to let us on any bus heading to Londrina that night, before arriving at the main city bus station. We got off the train and went directly to the Garcia Bus Company counter. We began our story, the clerk looked at our tickets, and said they had a bus leaving for Londrina in 5 minutes, and to go talk to the driver. We ran through that station, picked up some bags we had locked for the day in some security lockers, and made it down there in time. When we entered the bus, we were 3 of 5 people on board a bus designed to carry 50. We had three seats next to eachother. I guess the bus made some other stops to pick up some other people, but to be honest, I don't really remember. After our first stop, I closed my eyes and I was out for the count.

We arrived 5:10am the following morning, just 3 hours later than originally schedualed. We went home and prompty fell asleep. That day (Wednessday) we went back to our pediatritian, showed him the blood test results, and he told us not to worry. The temperature, the rash, was all probably roseola, which we had guessed. The irritability and screaming he didn't know. But Samara was better, and even now continues to improve. From the best that we can guess, we think that her loss of appitite put less food in her stomach. Then when we gave her some pain medicine, it really upset her stomach. She was far from home, and far from much of the things that normally give her comfort. She was also surrounded by so many new noises and sounds, and movement, she just went into overload mode, and tried to shut it out the only way babies know how to shut it out...screaming. Wow, how glad we were to be home. After we got back from the doctor we all took another nap, and in truth are still recoving even today. We are so thankful. Thankful that Samara will be fine and that we really are so healthy. Thanful for Marina!!! Thankful for the daily prayers of you guys and many others, Thankful to be home and be together. Thankful to our heavenly Father for his care for us. And thankful to be heading to sleep in a BED!We love you guys and we are SO thankful for you. We just wanted to update you on the last few days.

in Him, for Him,
Micah and Marla and Samara



**************"Cliffnotes" Thankfulness Unplanned*******************************************************
Not all adventures we take in life are pleasant ones. This email relayed what happened in an emergancy room in Sao Paulo, and what happened to bring us there.
1. We had planned a trip to Sao Paulo to get Samara's Passport, Social Security card and American Birth Certificate
2. Samara got a fever before we left
3. We checked with our doctor and went anyway
4. She got considerably worse in Sao Paulo, for unknown reasons
5. We ended up going to a hospital, accompanied by a lady we had never met before, seeing things we had only seen on tv
6. We got home ok, and Samara is getting better, and we are still recoving.
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