A Day in the Life of Siloam: Provider's Perspective

A Day in the Life of Siloam: a Provider’s Perspective

Originally published in the Spring 2001 edition of Healing Waters
By Beth Stonehouse, RN, CFNP

Beth Stonehouse, RN, CFNP

9:00 Family of Sudanese refugees arrives including a mother, father and four children. We have only one interpreter for the six. Papers are filled out while the older children sit quietly and look at books…until giggles erupt at Alissa in her giant pink sunglasses. Refugee children are among my favorite patients here. They are- inevitably thin, wide-eyed, cautious with their smiles.

10:30 Mexican mother of seven (nine years and under) walks in with three of her flock in tow. No appointment; she says two are coughing. We have seen this family many times, and know that they arrived homeless in Nashville only a few months ago. She is a single mom, and only the older of the children speak a little English. Examined the little ones today and dispensed some needed medicine -- remembering to check for head lice because of past infestations. Today they are clean. The mother thanks me for their care, and for the gift of two bicycles which were a donation to the clinic last month. The family leaves with hearty thanks and smiles.

12:17 In walks a faithful supporter with two boxes of antibiotics. She is followed by one of our faithful volunteers, best known as "the cookie lady." She has taken on the important ministry of supplying our volunteers and staff with a steady supply of homemade treats.

2:05 Ms. H. arrives. She is here to see Eva, our faithful Wednesday volunteer. Ms. H. first came to Siloam in September at the insistence of a friend who had seen her faint the previous week. As I asked about her life, this young, petite, soft-spoken woman began to tell me pieces of her past. Orphaned as a toddler… raised on the streets… sexually abused by an employer at age eight… currently living with an abusive husband… working seven days a week… feeling so hopeless that she only eats once every other day. Untapped shame and grief began to trickle out in tiny tears. Lab work revealed iron-deficiency anemia, and appropriate medical therapy was started. But it has been the love and counsel of Eva that has helped bring about profound change in this woman. Eva has poured out love and compassion and her famous warm hugs on Ms. H. She has spoken to her of Jesus, and His healing and power. Today Ms. H. appears a different woman than she did two months ago. She has a growing relationship with the Lord, and is improving physically.

3:07 Cacophony in the hallway… infant screaming in the pediatric room after immunizations… pounding rap music in the apartment next door… hammers banging upstairs... telephone ringing… Gregorian chants over the tape player. And always, the harmonious mix of languages – Spanish, Bosnian, Arabic and English – coming from the waiting area.

3:14 I step in to see another young Mexican woman. Her complaint is stomach pain and dizziness. A thorough history reveals a considerable emotional component trigger to her symptoms. She plans to leave a troubled marriage and return to her home country next week. Unconfident in my ability to pray in Spanish, I invite Eva into the exam room to pray for this patient. With gentle yet bold words, Eva takes this young woman by the shoulders, and looking her in the eye, begins to speak of the love and power of Jesus. She tells the patient about the One Friend who will never leave her, and this confident-appearing patient begins to cry, desiring to receive the love and provision and strength that God alone can offer.

3:55 I overhear Ellen speaking to an interpreter – "Why is there a piece of paper in your ear?" He responds, "I didn’t have a pocket." Our friends are funny!

4:30 Last patient of the day. Chart says "chief complaint: ?Pregnancy?" The patient is a young Vietnamese woman, sitting erect and stoic on the exam table. Her English is minimal, and her husband helps interpret. I learn that she has only been in the U.S. for one year. She came to join her husband here, and all of her family remains in Vietnam. They are struggling financially, and they have a young infant. Now her period is late, and a home pregnancy test is positive. Fear rests in both sets of eyes; they are hopeful the test was incorrect. Unfortunately, it was not; she is the young mother of an infant, and now has a second one on the way.

Her posture and her words reveal a pride that belies her fear. I long to reach out to her, but can only communicate in short, simple phrases. "Do you feel lonely?" "Are you afraid?" I am holding her hands as I ask. Can’t even tell if she comprehends, but the tears begin to well. My heart aches for her in her loneliness – no family here, no friends, little English, financial struggles, overwhelming responsibilities of motherhood. They are not Christians, but I attempt to share the Gospel of Jesus in simple phrases. We pray together, and I debate whether to open my arms in the gesture of a hug. I decide to do so, and at the mere lifting of one arm, the woman is clinging to my chest, crying and not letting go. The couple leaves, with Vietnamese Bible in hands, and plans to visit the Crisis Pregnancy Center. Also, a call is placed to Pastor Ngoc Ha alerting him to the need for this family to be connected with others for support.

What a privilege is mine to be in this moment right now! I end the day feeling blessed and full of joy at the many opportunities the day brought to fulfill our mission to share the love of Christ by serving those in through health care.