The final installment in Bright Sunshine Tjahiti's series of stories. This won't be the last I write of her; I will keep you updated from time to time about her. Stay tuned~ This is the final update, as recorded by Louisiana Sandusky, who is her nurse.
It is amazing just how quickly some poeple heal. It has only been a week since little Bright Sunshine Tjahiti, aged 6, had her scoliosis surgery; but she has been recovering without much incident. She is coming along beautifully, and although she is somewhat uncomfortable, she isn't in TOO much pain, and if she is, she asks for a shot to make it go away. She is starting to eat a little, and she is sleeping fairly well during the night. She is sitting up straighter than she was when she first came to our hospital, and she is also breathing much easier. It is obvious just how much of a success the surgery was, and I am glad that the risky surgery is now behind her. Now she can concentrate on getting well and then going home back to Tanzania when she is strong and well enough.
If she gets scared during the night, I have one of the overnight nurses (Gloria, Genevieve, or Gertie) sit with her; that way, she won't feel so alone. I know she misses her parents, Charles and Miriam, and her sisters, Loiyan, Tajika, and little Baby Grace, as she sometimes cries out for them in Maasai. Poor little Love: so far away from her home in Africa, and everything is so unfamiliar and foreign to her. I can understand her fear and uncertainty.
During the day, I make it a point to stop in and see Bright Sunshine; and she is always glad to see me. She knows I know basic Maasai (VERY basic, mind you!) and some Swahili, so she will try to communicate with me. I don't always understand everything she says, but if she says a word I am familiar with, I will nod my head, and encourage her. She then will switch to what little English she knows, and we can (sort of) hold a VERY rudimentary conversation!
During the time I am with Bright Sunshine, I show her pictures of my family, and she looks at the pictures with much interest. I can tell by her little wrinkled brow and the confusion in her bright, black eyes that she is confused about all the "different colored children" in my family, and I try to explain to her that they are mine because we adopted them; and then I try to explain the concept of adoption to her as best as I possibly could. I tell her that some mommies and daddies can't take care of their children, so they go to another family, and these children are now other familie's children. She seems to understand, and she nods her head in understanding. She then flashes me a tentative little smile, and reaches out her slim, dark arms for a hug; and I am more than happy to oblige. I then wrap her in my arms, and I cover her small, dark face with kisses.
Bright Sunshine then asks me (in English) for my address, and at first I am taken aback, as I don't expect it; but then she tells me in part Maasai, part English, that she wants to write me a letter when she goes back to Africa. She then writes down her address in crude, blocky English lettering on a wrinkled piece of paper, and she hands her address to me.
I then stick the piece of paper in my pocket, and I tell her, "Asante sana"--"Thank you" in Swahili--, and she responds with "You're welcome" in the Maasai tongue. She then flashes me another smile, and I am taken aback by the natural, uncomplicated beauty of this little child. She is very pretty, and she doesn't look so scared now; some of the fear that she had been feeling the past week is finally starting to ebb, and I can tell that she is starting to feel better.
I know when that she is released from the hospital, Bright Sunshine Tjahiti will return to Africa to continue her recovery there, and I shall miss her very much. I know that I will never forget the courageous spirit of this child who came to our hospital from halfway around the world for life-saving surgery, and because of it, her life will now be so much better. I feel my eyes fill with tears and a lump rise in my throat as I think of that day when Bright Sunshine will be discharged from our hospital; and I know I am NOT looking forward to that day. I am glad she will be released, but at the same time, I don't want to see her go because in the short time I have known her and cared for her, she has left an indelible mark on my heart, and I know that I will never forget her.
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
