I like working Sat mornings - well, after I get done disciplining the 5 or 6 pts that decide to show up on a sat morning because they think we won't notice that they have defaulted their meds but never mind that there are no queues because OPD is closed! - as it is, for the most part, calm. I can catch up on all the stuff that I needed to do all week, listen to some tunes and relax since I won't be interrupted like, a bazillion times in 2.54 minutes!
And... since the docs and Kathy aren't here today, there are no discharges to do so I am just sitting here waiting for Mr. Gunguvu to re-assess a maternity pt to see if I need to transfer them or not... I thought I would FINALLY update this thing!
There are SO many things that, living in their culture, smack me in the face with my own selfishness, ugliness, and sin when I am not looking. One of the biggest peeves smacks right now is the lack of 'body bubble' space. I LOVE me a HUGE body bubble... which... unfortunately.... SERIOUSLY clashes with the people here WHO HAVE NO BODY BUBBLE!
If I am sitting at the end of the pew, leaving an 8 inch space to avoid the bird poop... and there are a gazillion open seats... there will ALWAYS be someone who decides that they HAVE to have THAT seat and push me over, or instead of going around to the other aisle where the gazillion open seats are they will instead CRAWL over everyone in the pew to get to that said open seat.... or just squeeze in at the end and have everyone play a game of scoot over. And don't even get me started on strangers putting their arms around you... never mind that deodorant here is REALLY expensive and doesn't work worth a darn anyway... which is why if it is crowded I will sit where there are more men because manners would dictate they HAVE to keep a proper amount of space.
The funny, or REALLY cool, part of this is that for the most part, they don't treat me like they would to the average person here without knees (the first name they gave whites many, many, many moons ago)... I mean - I can be out and about, in town, and all the others of pale complexion have a HUGE space around them and here I am being absorbed to nothing-ness in a crowd of beautiful, dark skin and gorgeous smiles.
I LOVE these people... I really, really do... but I find myself loving my comfort even more, GASP! Ok... I said it...I love my own comfort even more... which becomes a REALLY big problem... a HUGE, GARGANTUAN one!
Oh man! The baby still isn't born and there are problems... I and I know NOTHING about birthing no babies so the driver I called and off to Chinhoyi she goes!
Ok...so I recognize the problem... always the first step isn't it... and of course the phrase 'dying to self' keeps coming up and DING, DING, DING... I start to realize that this is one of those things that God is trying to teach me of how to be MORE loving, MORE gracious, MORE forgiving, MORE LIKE HIM. And.... I know 'The Message' has its critics but I LOVE how Romans 6:6-11 is put:
Could it be any clearer? Our old way of life was nailed to the cross with Christ, a decisive end to that sin-miserable life—no longer at sin's every beck and call! What we believe is this: If we get included in Christ's sin-conquering death, we also get included in his life-saving resurrection. We know that when Jesus was raised from the dead it was a signal of the end of death-as-the-end. Never again will death have the last word. When Jesus died, he took sin down with him, but alive he brings God down to us. From now on, think of it this way: Sin speaks a dead language that means nothing to you; God speaks your mother tongue, and you hang on every word. You are dead to sin and alive to God. That's what Jesus did.