Eva, Part III

A little princess in her carriage.

Eva finally got her wish.  She had been asking to go with us (preferrably to go home and live with Brooke!) each day at the close of our visit.  How do you explain to a terminally ill orphan the complications of such a wish? But sometimes for little princesses, wishes can come true.

Eva's sweating and constant coughing at night was an indicator to me that she needed to be tested for TB.  We requested that such a test be taken. The next time a doctor was able to come to the hospital, he requisitioned a test for her.  We were told that the ambulance would take her to Beira for the test. I was relieved because of the present challenge of my small window of time for her each day. It all seemed so simple.  But nothing is simple in a third-world country.  Each day we came back to see if the ambulance had taken Eva away. Finally the hospital admitted the ambulance had no gas. They would have to requisition the government to allot some gas for Eva.  An orphan with AIDS and possibly TB? I rearranged and tightened up my schedule so we could take Eva to Beira.

Simone, Brooke and I returned the next day. Simone gingerly carried Eva out to the car. She was finally "getting to go with us." I knew the 22 kilometers to Beira would be tiring and difficult.  We told her that she was a princess and we were her subjects and that my car was her carriage. (All missionary cars are undercover carriages...) We prayed that the there would be a technician available in the X-ray room.  When we arrived we were informed that room was closed for awhile but would reopen in an hour.  We waited in the hot car under a shade tree.  When we returned to the X-ray room, many people were already in line. We waited again.  When it came time for her X-ray, they ushered Brooke, Eva and myself and many other women into a room with an X-ray machine. Mercifully, they chose Eva to be first though we were the last to arrive. All the women disrobed for whatever they were to be X-rayed for and then they asked us to remove Eva's clothes.  Naked and barely able to stand, she stood bravely in front of the cold, hard backing. A skeleton with skin, it seemed redundant to take her picture. With all of us in the room, they began to X-ray patients with no concern for radiation exposure.

After a long wait, we were given the picture and sent on our way.  We returned her to Dondo hoping this would open up the door for treatment. Days later, without any word on the X-ray, we were told she needed more blood. This all sounded too familiar.  A month ago I had paid for two people to give 1/2 liter each of blood to another AIDS patient in Project Life. Rather than giving both donations to the patient, the hospital took one 1/2 liter and gave it to someone else.  The PL patient died a week later. In the meantime, no doctor or nurse was present to even discuss the possibilities.

Of course the hospital considers our efforts futile.  It isn't that I am blind to the end stages of AIDS.  I see her swollen belly; her advancing decline, her fading fight.  Little Eva isn't blind either.  She listened intently this afternoon as we encouraged her in God's love - the Father and King of this little princess.  She nodded her head as we told her what heaven was like...no hunger, no sadness, no sickness...only joy.  It is not futile to love an AIDS orphan.  It is exactly what the King ordered.