Learning to be Thankful in the Wait

The other day I was driving my three minute commute home from work when I remembered I had to go to Target.  The doctor had sent in a prescription for Bereket "just in case" she would have tummy troubles on our upcoming winter vacation to Jamaica.  There were a few other things I needed to pick up, too. I sighed. I was tired and wanted to go home. The last thing I wanted to do was push a big orange cart around the busy aisles.

When I got to the store, I headed straight for the Starbucks counter.  I decided treating myself to a light mocha frappuccino would make the experience a little more tolerable.  Then I scoped out the pharmacy line. It was long. I sighed again and did the rest of my shopping hoping the line would be shorter when I was finished. It wasn't.

I waited in the cramped aisles around the pharmacy for about 20 minutes.  As I sipped on my Starbucks drink, I felt myself growing more and more impatient. Was someone on a lunch break? Why did it always seem there was a backup when I needed to pick up a prescription?

Finally it was my turn.  They found B's medication right away, but we had changed insurance policies recently. It would be another 10 minutes to process her new information. Then I was asked to speak with a pharmacist. I noticed the large size of the bottle right away. It was definitely more than 3.4 ounces. We had not planned on checking our bags for our trip. The pharmacist smiled and said, "Maybe the TSA will let you through with it."

I tried to smile through all the waiting, but I don't know how convincing I was. On the way home, I wished I was a more patient person.  I thought of all the people in the world who walked miles to see a doctor. I thought of the millions who die of simple diseases that could have been cured or even prevented, if they just had access to medicine. Here I was impatient that I had to wait 30 minutes for something that hopefully I will never even have to give my child.

Monday will mark three years to the day we learned our sweet baby Terefech had died of Pneumonia in Ethiopia.  She had been brought to a hospital too late and spent 9 horrible days in the very primitive facility.  She was in a battle for her life that she ultimately lost.  A simple flu shot or the right antibiotic could have saved her life.  I get a flu shot in the comfort of my place of work every year...for free.

We learned that Terefech had died of Pneumonia on January 13, 2011.

According to the CDC and several other sources, Pneumonia and the flu are the number one cause of death in Ethiopia.  Right up there: Diarrheal diseases, Malaria, and Tuberculosis. All of these can be treated or even prevented with medication.  Think of the millions of children who would not be orphans today if their mother or father had simply been given the right medication.

When we were on our second trip to Ethiopia to bring Bereket home, I asked if we could visit a medical clinic in Addis Ababa that our adoption agency financially supported.  It is a clinic for mothers and babies. In the back of the building, there is a courtyard. The line of women holding their sick babies waiting to see a doctor or nurse extended in a circle around the courtyard several times.

Our agency no longer processes Ethiopian adoptions. I wonder if the Sipara clinic still gets all the financial support it needs to help these women and their babies.

Visiting the clinic for mothers and their children with Bereket in Addis Ababa in October 2011.

How blessed I am to live in a community that is actually often called, "The Med City" because of our easy access to some of the best healthcare in the world.  The skilled hands of some of the top cardiologists and surgeons even saved my mother's life this past summer.

Lord, the next time I am waiting in line at the pharmacy or the doctor's office, help me to remember how blessed I am. And help me never to forget those in the world without easy access to medicine and healthcare.