Day 6

We are EXHAUSTED, but saw a miracle take place today - seriously - and I think that's the only reason we're still functioning.  So here goes (grab a cup of coffee - this gets long because I want Maggie to know all of it someday):

We leave the hotel at 6 a.m. to beat traffic - even then, it takes an hour and 15 min to get to our attorney's office.  Upon arrival there, the receptionist informs us that the IOM clinic likely isn't open today because it's Columbus Day.  ?!?!  We said our understanding is that it's a Ugandan-run clinic?  Yes, she said, but they observe both US and Ugandan holidays.  Oh.  Well isn't that nice?  Good for them.  We decide we're going to check it out anyway, and head over there with Stella, the social worker with the firm.

We arrive, and good news - they're open!  Happy dance.  Stella goes to the desk and chats for a while, then comes back and says we have a problem.  My heart hit the floor.  When someone says that in Uganda, it's usually a BIG problem.  The normal procedure is for families to come in, pay their fee, hand over their paperwork, get their file started and then come back the next business day for their appointment.  We were hoping for an exception - that we could be seen TODAY.  They see children only on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays.  Tomorrow is a Ugandan holiday (Muslim - something to do with the moon phase), so they are closed.  Next business day for children is Friday.  Oh, but guess what - the doctors are in training that day.  So we can't get an appointment until next Monday.  At which point they have to administer a TB test (which is fluid inserted under the skin and you wait for a reaction for 48-72 hours), so we wouldn't be finished with the IOM until a week from Wed. - - except they don't see children on Wed., so who knows when the test can get read and be finished.

I ask if we can go talk to the reception/scheduling guy.  Stella says Mark can, but I should stay put.  (Cultural thing - you know, a woman's place).

So Mark goes and pleads our case with the guy but he's not hearing it - there is a procedure in place, this is policy, yada yada yada. 

Mark comes back looking like he'd been punched in the gut.

And this is where Mark flips out.  He looks at Stella (and this isn't her fault) and says "Well, I'm leaving." 

?!?!  Say what?

I'm thinking "YOU'RE leaving? And the rest of us . . .?"  But he told me afterwards he meant "us."  I hope so.  :)

She looks back at him like he's crazy and then he tells me he needs some air and leaves the building.

My head is spinning at this point and I can't even comprehend what this means.  I do a fast calculation and it appears like we'll be stuck here for another two weeks, minimum.

Mark comes back (thank GOD!) and says we're changing our tickets and going home tonight or tomorrow, and Stella can finish up the medical process for us and we'll come back in a month or so and do the embassy stuff.  Stella says "ok." (What else can she say at this point?  She could tell Mark was on the verge).

So there's our plan.

But first we have to sit and wait to pay the fee and get our appointment time for next week.

So we sit for an hour, and finally get to pay our fee.  The gal at the "fee desk" tells us to go back and wait, and we'll be called again to receive our appointment time.

So we sit for another hour.

All the while, thinking "Really, God?  How can this be?  Why did you give us Maggie's passport in 2 days - RECORD time?  Wasn't there a reason for that?  This doesn't make sense!"

And all the while with Mark rattling on endlessly to Stella about everything that's wrong with Uganda.  Seriously said some things he shouldn't have.  But she found him funny, and she was fine with his tirade, thankfully.

The waiting room empties, and it's just us and a couple other people left.

A nurse, who has walked back and forth past us numerous times in the past 2 hours, approaches me and kindly says "Did you have an appointment?"

I tell her no, we've paid our fee, but are waiting for our appointment time, and isn't there any way we could please possibly be squeezed in today?
She says, well, let me see what I can do - and immediately grabs a doctor walking by.  Explains to that doctor that we've paid our fee, and could we have our exam?  The doctor (witch) says "No.  We are finished here today.  You come back next Monday."  And leaves. (It's 10:15 a.m.)

The nurse then goes over to the appointment desk and talks to Mr. Procedure, but he won't budge - yammers on about the TB test and the scheduling just doesn't work, etc.

The nurse then finds another doctor, explains the situation to her - - an angel in disguise - finally, someone who had a heart.

They devise a plan in which we have Maggie's TB test administered right now, and then read at her exam appointment on Wednesday.

Wait a minute - what?  Wednesday?

Yes, we'll make an exception for you - you bring her in at 7:30 and we'll check her out quick.

If I wasn't concerned about the cultural aspects of public displays of affection, I would have hit the floor and kissed their feet.

Mark grabbed the nurse and hugged her.

She was thrilled she was able to help us, and proceeded to apologize for the inconvenience this morning. 

COULD. NOT. BELIEVE. IT.

And oh, you should have seen Stella's face - remember, she's done this with several families.  She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

As we walked Maggie back to the lab, once again I felt like I was living someone else's life - a few minutes ago, we were talking about coming home, and yet here we were - the waters had been parted again.

The nurse gave us her name - Michelle - and told us to ask for her when we get there on Wednesday.

We just may use her name for Maggie's middle name. :)

As we walk out into the parking lot, Stella, still looking shocked, looks at us and says "that was A MIRACLE!  They made a special exception for YOU!"  I think she was stunned for several minutes.  As were we - so strange, being completely overwhelmed at what in the world to do next, and then having God step in and solve it.  Love having the front row seat to His hand at work, but oh my, the highs and lows - and the vast space between them - are exhausting.

And so we are watching this little spot on Maggie's arm, praying it doesn't react and get bigger (no, I have no idea what happens if it's positive).  After we're done at the IOM place on Wednesday, we'll head straight over to the embassy to have them look over our paperwork, and hopefully schedule our visa interview.

Our victory this morning was followed by a tough afternoon with Maggie - thinking she got overtired (she was up at 5:00), didn't like to get poked with a needle, and really didn't like it that Jack and Noah went swimming (she saw them in their suits) and she didn't get to (can't get her arm wet).  The combination of all those really set her off (even AFTER her nap) and by the end of the day, Mark and I were taking shifts off and on to clear (and cool) our heads.  This evening, she was delightful again.  ??  We braced ourselves at bedtime, but she only fussed for about 1 minute and that was the end of it.  Thank you, Jesus!

So I need some sleep!  I know I have one round of photos I haven't posted yet - haven't had the time, and the internet is not good most of the time.  Will try to post them tomorrow.

Prayer requests:

- No more difficulties at the IOM clinic - that we could be in and out quickly, with no hiccups.

- That the embassy interview could be scheduled quickly and that they would NOT ask for any witnesses (we realize this isn't likely, but it doesn't hurt to pray about it).

- Peace and calm for Maggie and whatever she's experiencing in her mind.  Patience for the rest of us.