August 20, 2008

10:18 a.m.

Chase and Find

I was poised to go out for a late afternoon walk yesterday when I realized my debit card wasn't in my wallet.

I did the mental recreation of the day before, and decided I must have left it at Macy's. I called them twice and got cut off; called again and was on hold interminably. Then I decided it would be faster to get in the car and drive 45 minutes to the store. On the way I called again. They tried to connect me to the service desk; I got a voicemail system that would only allow me to leave a message if I had an extension number.

It's so hard not to be agitated; not to think that willing an outcome will help make it so. I sent Reiki, I prayed, I made groaning sounds. Walked into Macy's, found the checkout counter I'd used, was promptly escorted into the Executive Offices where the nice lady pulled out a big stack of left-behind cards, most of them Macy's cards. Mine was found, verified, and signed for, and I walked out a happy girl.

She said, "You should see them at Christmas. We get stacks of them every day!"

Since I was in the area, I called my brother-in-law and we arranged to have dinner. I hadn't had an update on Rose (in Africa) for some time, so it was time to catch up, pet some cats, and see how the packing-to-move was coming along.

For Rose, it's been the trip from hell, apparently. Not only was the flight out of Boston delayed two days, but the connection in New York was delayed on the tarmac two hours. Once in Ghana to set up the clinic, they learned that the good Reverend (who helps sponsor the clinic) had, once again, scheduled the annual Christian Revival at the same time, necessitating the teardown of the clinic every night. This has been one of many points of contention between Rose and the Reverend, and she's just about done with it. Everyone is exhausted by the end of the long day, and setting up the clinic anew every morning is time consuming. The village volunteers who help them with translating and other things are also involved in the revival, so they're up til midnight and back at the crack of dawn, exhausted, falling asleep. It's stupid. The Reverend doesn't care so much about the medical help being offered; his flock are more well to do, they have jobs, they have insurance. They can go to a doctor. The clinic is for poor people who have no options. It doesn't touch him. But they need him because it's his church, his sponsorship.

Then he didn't want the signed check Rose had brought him from the group leader, to pay for their lodging and expenses. He needed cash, he said. The cash was for their food. The check would take three weeks to clear. They'd be long gone by then.

The group leader and her next in line were awol in the U.S., and it took Rose a while to get hold of one of them. The wire, she said, would take a week. Meanwhile Rose had given the Rev most of their surgery fund cash, asking him to reimburse her when the wire came through. So the surgery fund is nearly depleted, and still for some reason there isn't enough money to go to market and get fresh food, so the meals have been scant. Add to this the debilitating heat and primitive conditions and the bloom is off the Rose. When she's pissed, everyone knows it. It might really be her last trip. They'd have to find a new trip leader -- no easy task.

Then, late one night, someone threw a huge rock through a window, which landed about two feet from one of the student clinicians. They hadn't found out who did it, but the Rev placed guards outside at night, with clubs and knives.

It was always a safe place, before.

I spoke to her a little yesterday, at Marc's, and she related much of this to me and said, "I feel a great weight lifting off my shoulders every time I think of not doing this any more."

I told her it was the kind of job no one can do for long. Especially against the political, ego-driven agenda of the Reverend.

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I have a Reiki/massage exchange in less than an hour, and the place must be cleaned up. I must turn into a whirlwind of cleaning power! Off to it.