Malaria

...01 September 2009
I have been baptized into Ghanaian life.... this week I was diagnosed with malaria and faced two miserable days in bed... by the second day of treatment my condition had not improved and my doctor (who, believe it or not, makes house calls) brought me intravenous fluids to rehydrate my body. After four hours on an i.v. drip, and many prayer warriors back in the states (thank you all), my prognosis turned around. I was able to take my oral medication and my fever broke.

The pain of Malaria is unlike any flu or western illness I have ever experienced... maybe due to the fact that I have never had a serious illness or perhaps the unknown was part of the pain too. Living outside direct contact of my family and any modern medical facilities can make even the smallest illness seem that much more dismal.... As i was lying in my bed i watched carefully as the doctor inserted the needle for my i.v. drip. My hand looked so small and white against his. The image paralyzed me. What I should have been thinking was...
“I am receiving a needle from a doctor in Africa.... what am I doing??” This thought would be going through any “good american girl’s” head... right?? But in fact, what I was actually thinking was,
“Thank You God, I am receiving a needle from a doctor in Africa.”
You see, At this point in time i had gone two days without eating so much as a few crackers... I could not keep any food in my stomach and therefore could not take any oral medication.
Because I was in such agony for two days I was at a place of utter desperation... and sometimes a place of utter desperation is the best place be.
Today as I am typing this message I will finish my third day of treatment, and I am feeling much better.
I felt obligated to journal about my malaria experience because it seemed interesting and a rare memory I should document, but as I began to type this entry another thought entered my mind...
Desperation... Most of us in the western world see desperation in a negative context... but after today, I will pray for more moments of desperation...
You see, it takes a moment of utter desperation for God to grant us His grace. If I was not in such a desperate moment perhaps fear would have stopped me from receive the treatment I needed... Fear is paralyzing but desperation forced me to trust... and in my moment of desperation the other night, I was not afraid.

I pray for your moment of utter desperation, may God’s grace grant you courage.
...entry written on 1 September 2009