Appendicitis in Africa

“My husband is ill, so I won’t be able to travel with you this morning.  I need to take him to the hospital.”  The early morning message from Francelina was a surprise, on the Thursday of our week of visits to rural women’s Bible reading clubs.  With a prayer for her husband’s healing, Matthew and I drove without her to that morning’s gathering.  Though it ran less smoothly than it would have under Francelina’s capable direction, the two of us managed to get the job done.  

It turns out that Francelina’s husband Gilberto had awakened with abdominal pains, which the local health outpost diagnosed and treated as gastritis.  When he felt somewhat better after a few hours, the clinic sent him home with a prescription, and Francelina joined us for that afternoon’s event in our own city.  That night, though, Gilberto’s pains intensified.  At midnight he awakened his brother, my son Afonso, to pour water on his hot, bloated belly in a desperate attempt at relief.  However, it was too little, too late.  His appendix had ruptured, and by the time his family got him to the hospital the next morning, he had already breathed his last.

Driving without Francelina to Friday’s meeting with lady Bible readers, Matthew and I were shocked at the news of her sudden widowhood.  As we encouraged the Bible reading program in the rural zone, our church back at home sprang into action, collecting funds for funeral expenses and sending ladies to comfort Francelina at her in-laws’ home where she and other family members gathered.  After my return to town that afternoon, I scurried to complete urgent tasks (running errands and teaching an online class) that were on the agenda of my co-worker Jeremias, because he is Francelina’s brother and needed to be with her in her grief.

Sadly, unlike his brothers, his wife, and his children, Gilberto did not know the Lord.  Nevertheless, as the congregation of his wife, our church conducted his funeral the next morning, in the yard of his father’s home, where scores of mourners had gathered.  Then we all drove in procession – with most people riding in several trucks for lack of a personal vehicle – to his family’s cemetery outside of town for the graveside service at which our church’s leaders also presided.  I had the honor of taking Francelina and her children in my pickup back to her in-laws’ where we all ate beans and rice for lunch.  With a big hug and words of Scriptural consolation, I told Francelina goodbye and took my leave.

Two weeks later, on Christmas morning, I visited her home, where she and her children had returned after a week at their relatives’ (a common custom here) and were struggling to return to some sense of normalcy with their beloved husband and father suddenly gone.  The next Sunday, they returned to church; and by the following week, Francelina was ready to discuss resuming her work as director of the women’s Bible reading clubs.  Now the sole provider for her family, she plans to increase her hours to forty per week, arranging for another adult to stay with her 16-year-old daughter and 12- and 8-year-old sons while she travels to visit ladies in rural districts.  Please pray for God’s abundant grace, comfort, provision, and protection for the bereaved family.

The tragic ending to Gilberto’s appendicitis case also motivates prayer regarding the local healthcare situation.  I’m grateful for the private clinic that has satisfactorily served my own medical needs, including diagnosis and treatment of typhoid, mole removal, and dental care.  But most of my neighbors cannot afford healthcare services outside of the overloaded public system.  Please ask God to send the gospel-focused doctors that our organization needs to open our fully constructed and equipped surgical hospital, where we hope to offer timely intervention for both the physical and the spiritual needs of future patients like Gilberto.