Kids’ Doc in Jos

Yesterday, I mentioned that we had unpacked our boxes after finally arriving home. This time, we only had our normal luggage allowance (no excess pieces), and since Barb had come from the UK where prices are high, she didn’t bring much.

I, however, had crammed a lot into my two pieces. Probably too much, since it meant that I had spent too many precious hours shopping on-line, trying to convince companies to take my credit card, and so on. Anyway, here is a list of most of what fit into my two boxes (one 50 pounds, one 70 pounds), carry-on and laptop bag.

Barb and I headed home over the weekend, she from Oxford and I from Wisconsin. We were to meet back at the airport in Frankfurt and fly from there to Abuja. I made the overnight flight from Chicago all right, but her flight from London was at least an hour late. She still might have made it to the Abuja gate, but being Frankfurt, she had to deplane on the tarmac, wait for other passengers to board the shuttle bus, take the bus to the terminal, and then start trying to find the connecting flight in the Frankfurt maze.

I decided to wait for Barb, as we hadn’t discussed this contingency, so we were both stuck. Lufthansa, reasonably enough, was willing to pay for Barb’s hotel and a new flight the next day on KLM, but wouldn’t pay for me and wouldn’t let me transfer my ticket to KLM. They also charged me $200 to rebook my flight. So, instead of leaving the next morning, we had to stay 2 nights in Frankfurt since Lufthansa doesn’t make the trip on Monday.

It was an expensive hassle, but once we got over the price shock we actually had a restful time. We stayed the first night in the hotel where Lufthansa puts up their passengers, and enjoyed really great dinner and breakfast buffets. The second night, with dinner since there was nowhere else around to eat, would have cost us $260 (!) so I found a much cheaper hotel on Priceline and booked there.

That one, the Albatros Airport Hotel, was delightful with more of a family atmosphere. I’d recommend it for anyone needing overnight accommodation near the airport, when your airline isn’t making the arrangements and footing the bill. It’s clean and friendly, located in a quiet, mixed residential/commercial area, and you can easily walk to grocery stores, bakeries or a couple of eateries. The breakfast buffet was quite nice, if not as spectacular as that in the more expensive hotel.

We spent Tuesday afternoon wandering around the shopping areas, having a snack, and buying our supper: wonderful, dark German bread, Camembert cheese, fruit yogurt, apples, and sparkling water. We had a fun and satisfying meal for under $10 for the two of us.

Having caught up on sleep and overcome the main part of jet lag, we arrived in Abuja last night and in Jos this morning. Luke was so excited to see us, he couldn’t stop talking. Tonight we unpacked our luggage … maybe I’ll touch on that in my next post.

It seems I’ve developed a case of blogger’s block. It’s not like I haven’t had things to blog about–I’ve had a series of ideas all along, if nothing terribly exciting, at least some things to think about, and news about our life here in Nigeria. So why haven’t I been writing? Anyone with a similar experience? Maybe it’s the hot weather?

A lot of ideas had to to with books I’ve been reading, but the ones I read back in December are getting hazy in my mind now. That in itself is a reason I should have blogged about them back then, just to refresh my own memory and give me something concrete to look back on. Oh well.

It wasn’t by design, but many of the interesting books I’ve read lately are some variety of science fiction or fantasy. My choices have been guided mostly by my kids’ recommendations — it’s wonderful to have kids who read, and who know what I might like to read also.

Saralynn had been telling me for some time that I should read A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller. I started it thinking it was just another story about life after a nuclear holocaust, an idea reinforced by the garish cover. Even after the first chapter or two, it seemed it was just going to be about the old-fashioned, ignorant, anti-technology religious monks opposed to progress.

Not so … the book developed in complexity and moral depth as it progressed, covering a period of several hundred years in three sections. As with any good science fiction, the point is not an escapist story but a deeper look at humanity and the world today. It was also a page turner, at least for me. Besides being an exciting and interesting story, it deals with thought-provoking issues including the roles of individual and state; ethical boundaries to technical knowledge; religion and power; and freedom of conscience.

Highly recommended and a book you’re almost sure to find at your local library. (4.5 stars rating on Amazon)

(April 9) We’ve had a wonderful Easter vacation week at our mission retreat center at Miango and today we’re heading home. The whole week we’ve had quiet, with few interruptions. The scenery is nice, if not dramatic or beautiful, and the weather has been a special treat as the rainy season began suddenly Wednesday with afternoon and evening showers every day since then. Except for one storm in March, we hadn’t had any rain since October so this was very welcome.

Our fun vacation activities? For Luke, playing outside all day long with his friends new and old. Except for a few odd breaks, we’ve hardly seen him in the house before 7:30 pm. He doesn’t need toys other than sticks, leaves, rocks, and so on.

Barb and I didn’t do anything other than sleep and read books (and take care of baby, of course), at least until the last two days when Saralynn and David joined us; we’ve played games with them, too (Mhing, Cities & Knights, Ticket to Ride, and Puerto Rico). Meals are part of the package at Miango, so Barb has enjoyed a break from cooking.

I went on a short walk with Luke up the hill here, and he loved throwing rocks down the slope—he said they were “messages.” That evening, though, I noticed my legs were itching and red, then my neck looked sunburned, and today, two days later, the underside of my arms. Even my scalp is itchy. Sunburn? But I put sunscreen all over my face, neck, and at least the top of my arms, and I was wearing long pants. I’ve decided it must be a photosensitivity reaction because of the doxycycline I take to prevent malaria, though I’ve never had any such trouble before. Apparently even the small amount of sun getting through my pants and hair was enough to trigger it on my legs and scalp; either that or the rash can extend beyond the areas directly hit by the sun.

Books I read:

• Feet of Clay , by Terry Pratchett. Saralynn and Jonathan were the ones that enticed me to read Terry Pratchett. I didn’t like the first one I read, Small Gods, but enjoyed Monstrous Regiment and this one. Rather wacky and irreverent (actually, anti-religious), but fun and occasionally thought provoking.
• My Sister’s Keeper, by Jodi Piccoult. This is probably my favorite book of the year to date; Saralynn lent it to us. It’s a well-written novel about a girl whose conception was carefully planned by her parents to provide life-saving stem cells for her sick sister. Good insight into the stresses caused by very ill children, good material for thinking on ethical issues, and a good story. Suggestion: Tear out the last two chapters (”Brian” and “Sara” along with the epilogue. This vastly improves the ending; check the Amazon reviews if you don’t believe it.
• Cancer Ward, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. My Sister’s Keeper is a really good book, but Cancer Ward is on a different plane altogether. It’s one of those books you should read at least once in your life (this is my second time), even if you’re too young to remember the legacy of Soviet Communism in the old Soviet Union. Solzhenitsyn is one of the all time greats. The book is even more essential reading if you’re involved in the field of health care.
• Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer. I never though about just how tough climbing Everest is. This is a good book, written by a journalist (who is also a climber, but not experienced in high-altitude climbing) who joins a commercially guided group to climb Everest. Not everyone survives the disasters that follow.
• Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage, by Alfred Lansing. If this were fiction, it would be unbelievable. I don’t read many survival stories, but this one certainly is one of the most amazing. Stranded for two years in the antarctic, and without even a land base? Navigating the wild, freezing seas in a glorified rowboat? Great book, should be easy to find in your local library (in English speaking developed countries, anyway).
• The Last Sin Eater, by Francine Rivers. I read quickly through half the book before giving up. Just not my cup of tea. I was expecting more substance, but it all seemed, well, constructed to make a point rather than a story. Maybe it’s just me.
• The Sound and the Fury, by William Faulkner. I had the opposite problem with this one … too much substance, too hard for vacation enjoyment. I didn’t know anything about the book, just picked it up at a garage sale. Blog readers, let me know if this is one I need to try again! (Amazon reviews seem to suggest I should … I guess I won’t get rid of it yet.)

I really didn’t know how to pray, so I just sat and folded my hands. Then I said, “Jesus, Mohammed is a father to me, but You are also an uncle to me. Sometimes my uncle cares more about me than my father. So Jesus, I want You to come and save me from this feeling of being lost …”

Iran: Desperate for God. Voice of the Martyrs, 2006. 152 pages. Available from http://www.vombooks.com, $8.00.

We just got this book in the mail today from our friends Joanne and Dale Anstine. Joanne was like an encouraging mom to us the years we lived in Iran. I’ve got other books on my list to read and this one didn’t look like real fun reading, but after reading a few pages I quickly got into it and had to finish it.

The book is a collection of the stories of eight Iranians, told in their own words. Most are young, in their twenties or thirties. All were raised as Muslims but have found Christ in one way or another. Hamed, from a Communist background, was a voracious reader and a skeptic, studying all kinds of religions and movements looking for truth. Padina was from a devout family and spent seven years in a strict house of religious devotion for women. Yasmin first heard about Jesus from a doctor from whom the family was seeking help for the father’s heroin addiction.

The stories are personal and each is different, but a few themes emerge. One is that all cite a wearniness and disillusionment toward the state religion on the part of many or even the majority of Iranians. Another is the way that the Shi’ite devotion to immans and prophets formed a bridge. The individuals started, in a sense, by incorporating Jesus into their list of intermediaries, without having to face a all-or-nothing choice. The same factor apparently made it easier for families and friends to accept the convert-to-be as not rejecting Islam but finding a particular “saint” valuable to their faith. That stage, of course, was only transitional for these individuals, and all came to full identify themselves as Christians (all, I believe, were baptized).

Persecution appears in each of these stories but is by no means the theme. Blogger Brian Ragle, in his blog entry, “Is Iran Really ‘Desperate for God’,” points out that the book is put out by Voice of the Martyrs and seems to feel it is just a marketing ploy: “it was clear to me that this book was simply another in a long line of propaganda pieces from similar organizations who make their money by telling us of a problem and then selling us the solution.” On the contrary, these stories are told by people who have no ax to grind. Their stories are personal, not political. Persecution is always there, usually in the background, but the authors seem to go out of their way to emphasize the flexibility and open-mindedness of most of their fellows. This is not another Tortured for Christ.

Cheryl Walker Campbell(left), Mike, and
Barb in Tehran, 1973

Barb and I lived in Iran for a few years, working with Operation Mobilization and involved mainly in distributing Bibles and Christian books. This was before the revolution, and things have of course changed, but the stories ring true to what we remember. Most of the people we met were Muslims, but they were interested in reading about Jesus and many bought Bibles. On the whole they were warm and open-minded, not the picture you see nowadays.

For Christians, this book is an excellent, if incomplete, window into the way God is working in this country which, on its face, is so hostile to Christianity. It also gives hope that there is still a solid mass of Iranians who are more interested in being good neighbors, and sometimes seeking Truth, than in hating their enemies. Blessed are the peacemakers.

Excellent and different — Begins and ends on A, March 29, 2006

This book is entertaining and readable, but keeps going beyond expectations. It would be a mistake to see it as just another medieval adventure story.

On the brink of disaster, young peasant Hannes is saved and becomes an apprentice Piper. This kind of piping, though, is a form of deep power as well as entertainment. After years of apprenticeship, Hannes is handed his first solo assignment: rid the town of Hamelin of a terrible plague of rats. Things are more complicated than they appear, though, and a complicated conflict ensues.

The biggest surprise of this book was simply that it was so good overall, at least in the top 10% of books I’ve read in its genre. It compares favorably, and is similar in ways, to some books by Madeleine L’Engle and Ursula LeGuin. Richness and complexity are the features I found that set this book apart from many others.

An example of this richness is the way the book handles moral issues. The tale explores themes of mercy, justice, and the tension between them, but not with glib answers. (And truthfully, I started reading the book expecting less depth.) A question it asks toward the end is who is responsible when a person who has received mercy harms others once again.

I kept thinking I had pegged the “moral” or simple message of the book and Hannes’ development, only to be surprised again. For example, I thought of “would-be-messiah learns his lesson,” “naive do-gooder encounters institutional evil,” “young man learns that mercy triumphs justice,” “good guy succumbs to the lure of seduction of power,” and so on. Instead, I kept being surprised as the book and character kept breaking those stereotypes. In my experience, it’s uncommon to find this level of complexity in similar books.

The story itself is likewise full of surprises, twists and turns, never gratuitous but well-woven. The writing and language are excellent as well.

In summary, an outstanding and unusual book, and one which makes you think.

The Rats of Hamelin by Adam and Keith McCune, 2005.

The Great Mortality: An Intimate History of the Black Death, the Most Devastating Plague of All Time, by John Kelly, is interesting and readable and contains a myriad details about life during the plague and during the 14th century generally. It is written in a popular history style with a certain amount of speculation and broad generalizations. As other reviewers have noted, it suffers from some repetition, with the model being something like,

On such-and-such a day, the plague first entered such-and-such town, this person died, that person died, and in the end 50% of the population died, though some scholars say it was only 35% and some say 60% and all these estimates are to be taken with caution.

However, there is plenty of factual detail about the plague, its causes, the things people tried in order to prevent it or avoid it, the way it was assimilated into and shaped their worldview. There are many, many anectdotes about individuals, mostly interesting though sometimes straying from the topic. The biggest contribution to my own knowledge was the fact that there was such severe persecution against the Jews specifically over the plague.

One weakness of the book, I felt, was the author’s strong tendency to personify the plague bacterium. This is, of course, a reasonable literary device but sometimes it went so far that it seemed explanations of events were being given in terms of the (dasterdly) intentions of Yersinia pestis. Also, biological science is not the book’s strong point, so do not go looking here for that (for example, “antigens” are confused with “antibodies”, and the author says, “its ragged genetic structure certainly suggests an agent slapped together in a hurry to meet an evolutionary emergency” because the organism has “a great many non-functioning genes and three ungainly plasmids.”)

All in all, a good, interesting read with a wealth of information about a topic with which moderns should be more familiar — who knows when we will need to face a similar situation?

The Great Mortality: An Intimate History of the Black Death, by John Kelly(****)

“By noon, the ants had found the girl-child.”

From the first sentence, this book had us hooked. Not only is it a great story, but very well written. My wife and I are in a similar situation, living in Africa and trying to adopt a child we’ve had for years, and the book seems pretty realistic to us. Of note, the author is neither cynical nor romantic about his family’s experiences, and gives us a very good picture of the struggles of his heart as well as the external struggle for adoption. Thanks to our daughter Lisa for sending us this book!

Love in the Driest Season, by Neely Tucker, 2004 (*****)

My review: (4 stars)

I recently read What Dying People Want: Practical Wisdom for the End of Life, by David, M.D. Kuhl (2002) and wrote this mini-review for its Amazon page.

As pointed out in a previous review, this is not a book with the most up-to-date research and theory on grief, loss, and dying. But then, if it were, it would lose its primary audience, ordinary people. If you have done a lot of work in this area then you may not find much new, though I think the book is still a refreshing read. But it is a book I could recommend for many patients and family members, as well as some caregivers who may not have had much education and experience with grieving people. As a physician, I doubt that the book is too “basic” for most colleagues who are not in high-mortality specialties.

What prompted me to think about the book and recommend it was this question from one of our interns, posted on our discussion board:

“We have a number of patients who come in with a poor prognosis-some like PLCC [primary liver cell carcinoma], end stage cardiac failure, full blown AIDS, etc. They get into the wards and the relatives expect some sort of miracle and of course only God can grant one. In most cases , we end up loosing them and then I wonder should we have admitted them in the first place?”

Yes, as a Christian hospital, we have much to offer them, and this book (though not from a Christian viewpoint) helps us see how. At the same time, we need to be careful that we do not waste the family’s scarce resources (time and money) on futile measures. The most important measures, such as talking, may cost little.

We really need some research and some books like this one that are written from an African perspective. I do not think pastors or doctors have grappled with these issues as much here as they have in the West, even though the numbers of people dying are far, far higher.

My review: (5 stars)

Today I randomly went to Amazon to check the reviews for one of my all-time favorite book series, the journals of Laurel Lee. I was surprised that the first book, at least, had not a single review or rating. So I wrote the following review. In the process of checking around, I learned that Laurel died last year. I’m sorry I never got to meet her, though we did exchange letters a few times.

Briefly, the first book, Walking through the Fire, is a hospital journal written when Laurel was 29, pregnant, and found out she had Hodgkins disease. She was advised to abort the baby so she could start chemotherapy, but she did not want to.

Laurel Lee’s books have a special place in my heart. Few books have a style that sets them apart from, and makes them hard to compare with, all others. Her writing on the surface reads as easily as a children’s book (she also wrote for children). But in that simplicity there is great transparency and insight. The books are mostly prose, but laced with sparkling word images and drawings that speak directly to the heart and are truly a (very accessible) form of poetry. Just a couple of examples:

“In one stroke, I cut with some mental shears that fifty-more-years river, leaving me a short stretch …. I want the privilege of guiding the arrows of my children and giving them the exhortations that can shoot them into the high place.”

“I was stunned. I knew I must be in Stage III. I could count my thoughts and emotions, as if my head had broken into a lot of little pieces and they were falling slow enough to number. I was mad at every encouraging word and that I had believed them.
“We all stood two inches tall; I was set up for a fall. It was winter, and they took my only coat.”

Laurel’s books are special to me mainly because of they way they exude joy and life without being in the least syrupy or naive (indeed there is plenty of doubt, discouragement, and pain expressed as well, as in the quote above).

Though valuable for anyone, Walking through the Fire was written as a gift for the doctors who were caring for Laurel during her first illness. It offers them a candid and often humorous view from the patient’s perspective. Her inside view has shaped my own practice as a pediatrician and I believe that every health care worker should consider her books required reading. And besides … they’re fun!

Unfortunately, these journals are out of print. The new book Tapestry, though, appears to contain much if not all of the same material and more. I’m going to read it as soon as I can get it out here to Nigeria. It’s available directly from the publisher or on Amazon.