The following is from yeterday's e-mail from Jerri and Bill Savuto, UM Missionaries in the area where we will work in Kenya, who are currently on sabbatical in the US. It is a reminder to me of our calling to the "least of these" and my thanksgiving for our United Methodist understanding of salvation of life and spirit.

"He who waits on God never waits too long." Chuck Wagner

"We have heard that the Mboone River, the river that provides water for Maua, is dry. The hospital has its two wells and is sharing water with the community but the drought continues with the lack of water and food and the horrors of starvation. Please continue to pray. Maua Methodist Hospital is suffering. Over 50% of our patients cannot pay their bill (and you remember that the average 7-day bill is $180). The hospital is unable to pay the staff until late in the month which is a great burden for them. Drug orders are made but not shipped until the cash is in the distributor's hands. The hospital saves thousands of lives each year. It is so important to keep the hospital going. If you are willing to send money to pay the hospital bill of a child whose parents have no money, please go to the bottom of the blog for the information.

As the Quality Improvement Officer for Maua Methodist Hospital, I (Bill Savuto) try to go through our Out-patient/ER departments every 4-6 weeks. Though I receive better treatment than most despite my pleas to treat me as they treat others, it gives me a good idea of what is happening for the average patient/client. The last time I went through the system in late July, I wrote a poem (of sorts) about what I saw. I thought I would share it with you:

And They Wait

They come every day in large numbers.
The poor, poorer and poorest.
Barefoot, with painful feet or well worn flip flops, very old, often rapaired.
They come dressed in used clothing, frayed and torn slacks and jackets,
Not bought that way, but from years of wear and tear.
They come with coins or dirty shilling notes wrapped in their kanga or pinned inside their shirt or pocket.
They come late after selling their gods or food in the market.
They come limping, cut, coughing, with high fevers and body wracking chills.
They come bleeding, with burns, and missing limbs.
They come awake and in a coma.
They come with malaria and tetanus, HIV/AIDS, diabetes, high blook pressure, and asthma.
They come from road traffic accidents, diarrhea, vomiting and night sweats.
They come carried by friends and family, walking on their own, in a matatu or the bed of a truck.
Some come alone, with family, and some with so much famil. And most come to wait.

They wait to rgister and be weighed in the covered porch area.
They wait to pay their fee to see the doctor or clinician.
Sometimes the line is short and sometimes it is very long but they will wait.

Then they wait to see the doctor or clinician, depending on what they paid.
They finally see a clinician/doctor and s/he orders laboratory work and so they wait to pay for the lab.
Sometimes the line is short and sometimes it is very long but they will wait.

They wait to have their lab specimen taken and they wait for the results.
So many malaria tests to be taken they will wait and wait and wait for the results.
Then wthy wait to see their clinician again.

The clinician may need an x-ray and so they will wait to pay their fee for the x-ray.
Sometimes the line is short and sometimes it is very long but they will wait.

There is only one x-ray technician and many clients so they will wait again.
After the x-ray is taken they will wait to take the results to their clinician for the third time.
The clinician will now order medication.
They will wait to pay for the medication.
Sometimes the line is sort and sometimes it is very long but they will wait.

After paying they will wait in a long queue to receive their medication.
All that waiting!
All that time!
The poor they wait.

We fuss because they do not keep time,
And if they did would they wait?
The loud, pushy men or the quiet old woman?
They have walked and walked and walked to come.
They will walk and walk and walk to return home.
But for now they wait.
Most wait patiently, quietly, but some wait loudly and with anger in their voice.
But all wait!

They come - the old, the babies and children, the unconscious, the slashed and cut, they dying and the dead.

They come for drugs, suturing and tests.
They come from pain I couldn't bare a moment.
They just keep coming.

The mothers desperate with their babies dying in their arms, their overwhelming fear overflowing to the others.
No money in hand but the baby is dying and so is admited.
The hosband wasn't home when the mother left oto rach the hospital in time.
Her husband will be angry, the baby is a girl.
Too much money to waste.
He won't come to the hospital and he won't pay any money.
He will beat his wife when finally she and their daughter are released from the hospital.

The children burned with hot liquid or falling into the fire are brought
Sobbing and screaming or too tired and weak to cry.
The days, weeks, months of treatment, surgery and pain.
The weeping goes on and one or ends when the father decides enough has been paid and the child is taken home to die.

But today they come with malnutrition and starvation.
They have measles and TB due to no immunity.
They are so tiny I cannot see them in their layers of wrapping.
Or their body swilling from Protein Malnutrition is so great
I think they are healthy until the legs and arms are unwrapped
And I see the oozing sores and he misery on their face.

They come, they all come!
They come for hope, help, health and life.
Winners all; losers none.
Life or death; health or sickness.

We help them, we pray.
Hope is offered but not always accepted.

They come
Go
Live
Die
But all wait and wait
And wait!
The poor always wait!