Dedication.
There are so many people I wish we could thank.
It’s just not
possible to mention the hundreds of ordinary people who have contributed so
much to Geeta’s survival and subsequent upbringing but their contribution large
or small will never be forgotten by us.
There are those who willingly gave what they could
towards medical costs, from single individuals who just felt the need to help
to groups such as our church in the UK. Most of her operation costs have been
met by the Indian government and donations. After-care, medication and then
schooling all had to be paid for as well as the myriad of other things any
child needs.
But it’s not just money that has made such a
difference. Around the world there are many people who have prayed to our Lord
to help heal her, we truly believe that this prayer has not only helped her but
has also supported us through times that were so hard for us to cope with both
emotionally and financially. Around her she has a loving group of friends who
have taken her to their hearts; they teach, watch over her and guide her as she
grows. These are special people I will not name them, they wouldn’t want that
but they know who they are, we want them to know that Christine and I and most
importantly Geeta will never forget their contribution to her happiness or
their friendship.
And finally of course there is Geeta. Without her
strength and determination to overcome the terrible injuries she suffered and
the terrible pain she had to go through to become who she is this miracle could
not happened. Months of continuous pain, hundreds of dressings changed, to date
four operations on her arm alone. After the accident she was more than a year
in her village with her injuries getting worse and worse until the day when her
mother came to our home for help. By then the wound was gangrenous and she was
nothing but a little bag of bones so near to death.
She has gone through so much but has always born it
with courage and determination. I hope when you read her story that I have been
able to convey to you what a remarkable child she is.
Warning:
This account contains graphic images of burn damage that some people may find
difficult to look at. We have included them because we feel they are necessary
to the narrative.
Prologue
For those who don’t know us I have decided to
include a short prologue. It is only intended to paint general picture about us
not to answer specific questions.
Christine
and I met 12 years ago online during a discussion about faith. At the time I
was teaching, marking papers in the early hours of the morning. Needing a break
I visited some of the more loony sites where the very best conspiracy theories
abounded. This was not unusual for me as it relieved the tension and the stress
that comes with teaching.
There
was a lady discussing her faith with several others and outlining just what it
meant to her to be a born-again Christian. I commented that you could have
faith in a mushroom but it wouldn’t do you a lot of good would it? Well that
started a long discussion between us. What Christine didn’t realise at the time
was that I was also a born-again Christian having accepted Christ in the United
States some years before but was yet unbaptized.
I
had come from a violent background of drugs, crime and hard core bike clubs
before turning to Christ. I was 58 years
old and living with a girlfriend in a very rocky relationship.
I
had never been able because of my past to establish a long-term loving
relationship with anyone.
If
you want to know more about my violent past, my abused upbringing and why after
years of bike clubs drugs and parties I turned to Christ, please read ‘a long
and winding road’ by C. R. Hyde.
Our
online chats quickly became more intimate; we were absolutely honest with each
other on every subject. I told her my past she told me hers.
We
had both had major problems in our lives and have struggled to overcome them.
Christine at this time was disabled and used crutches to get about. This
situation was not expected to change for the better, she had been assured by
specialists the problem she had would eventually lead her to a wheel chair. Other
than suffering from rheumatoid arthritis in many of her joints she also had an
incurable bone disease that was gradually destroying her back. She had been
forced to retire because of this from her nursing career and was struggling
financially.
By
this time I and my girlfriend had split the house into two and were basically
marking time until one of us found somewhere else to live. This turned out to be
me.
Christine
and I promised each other above all else we would be honest. Remember this is
online, as yet neither knew the others identity so honest we were, sometimes
brutally. It isn’t pleasant having to admit to somebody what sort of person you
have been or to admit the sort of problems you are now having but we did. In
absolute honesty with each other we moved forward in our relationship.
Our
first meeting was quite stressful for both of us but we have since both
admitted we knew we were going to be together from that point on, although we
were both too afraid to say anything at that time. The connection that would
hold us together for the rest of our lives had been made.
Months
went by until after a good deal of prayer we admitted our love for each other.
Christine’s Church that I had now also joined was quite surprised to see a
50-year-old professing her love for a bearded biker type. We were judged at first
especially me on our appearance but as people got to know us as a couple they
began to see beyond Christine’s disability and my long hair and beard.
At
this time in my life I had just left University again (the first time being way
back when I was a young man studying for my engineering degree) having now qualified
with a teaching degree I was working for a charitable group teaching the
disabled horticulture. I am also a qualified L3 horticulturist. Christine is
bright and well educated and she is by no means gullible. She knew who I was
and who I had been.
We
both believed in God’s love for us and his guidance. We still both believe that
God brought us together for purpose only at that time we had no idea what that
purpose might be.
I
had rented a small cottage and Christine was also living in rented
accommodation. It may sound very silly especially to some of my old time
friends considering the complete lack of regard for girlfriends in my past
before I gave my life to the Lord, but we didn’t want to live together unless
we were married. So we decided to do just that.
We
married firstly in the eyes of God in a small church before witnesses on
Lindisfarne (holy island) we made our oath to each other and God that there
would be no other for either of us in our lives and that we were bound together
for life. We prayed and truly felt that the Lord had blessed us. After this we
moved in together and lived as husband and wife. It wasn’t easy, Christine and
I were both fiercely independent people used to dealing with our own problems
and certainly not used to sharing them with others, and this is something we both
had to learn to do.
It
was during this time that I wrote my autobiography, something I’m convinced I
could not have done without Christine’s love and support. There were many
nightmares and rough times but she stood by me despite everything and helped me
get through it.
As
a couple we were now accepted in our church as Chris and Chris. There was some
division amongst various people as to whether or not we were married. Christine
and I both made the same statement ‘we are married in the eyes of God’ and for
most this was good enough. We knew however that one day soon we had to
formalise things for man’s law. One evening after a lovely meal at home I did
the traditional kneeling and asked Christine if she would do me the honour of
becoming my wife. Her reply, in a somewhat squeaky voice was ’yes oh yes’.
The
engagement ring Christine now wears has three diamonds they represent our love
for each other, our total honesty to each other and our faith in God. Those of
the three pillars we have built a relationship and our marriage on.
This
second marriage took place at our church some six months later before all our
friends and what must have been the entire congregation. It was a wonderful
occasion where we raised a considerable amount of money for an India-based
charity supplying breeding goats to poor villagers.
Those
that know us and attended the wedding will remember the theme ‘blue goat’ and
the wedding cake with goats climbing over it. The reasons for this are far too numerous
to relate here but basically all the money from our wedding went to charity.
By
this time we were both convinced that the Lord had a mission for us. The church
was supporting a group in Albania so we wondered if perhaps this could be for
us. We took our honeymoon in Rome and then onto Albania where we met members of
the church group there. We both felt there was a tremendous amount we could do
but there wasn’t what we expected to feel, we didn’t feel as though God was
telling us to do this. There wasn’t what I can only describe as the feeling of
compulsion you get when the Lord gives you a task. That would probably sound
very weird to non-believers but that’s how it was.
When
we returned Christine had the second operation to replace her knee with an
artificial joint. This was the second operation as she had replaced one already
with an implant. As a present for her courage I arranged a holiday in India for
us some six weeks after the operation!
To
cut a long story short we went to India and knew very shortly that this was
where we were meant to be.
We
spent some of our time in a place called Udaipur Rajasthan, little did we
realise at the time how significant this visit would be for us.
When
we returned we decided that there was no doubt God was telling us to go to
India.
That’s
very easy to say, and if you are a believer perhaps easy to understand but for
the average person what we did was almost incomprehensible.
We
sold everything we owned, cars motorcycle house and all its contents including
our much loved library. We gave the proceeds to an Indian group who were
building a new dormitory at a church funded school. During this time we applied
for visas to come to India to work for a charity here.
At
one point we were living in a house that no longer belonged to us and sleeping
on a borrowed bed. Friends, even some of our church friends thought we were
mad. If the visas didn’t come in time we would have nowhere to live. The weeks
went by with still no visas. We told people we were doing this in complete
faith that God would look after us and that because of our absolute faith in
him there could be no plan B.
God
has never let us down the visas arrived and we set off to India with three
suitcases and three plastic boxes containing all our worldly goods eventually
settling in Udaipur.
At
the time of writing we have been in India over 11 years so I think it’s safe to
say we have come home. During this time I had been adopted into an Indian
family by taking one of the women who had become a trusted friend as a rakhi sister.
I regard it as a great privilege and take the duties of being a brother to her
in the family very seriously, as does the family, this joining is rarely given
to Westerners.
God
has been with us every moment of our time here. We have worked for charities;
we even established ‘warm aid’ a group that collects money and purchase
blankets for the homeless living on the city streets. We did what we could to
help where we could. A lot of small things mostly, donating food or money to
those that needed it in random amounts and random places. One of our favourite
things to do while we were out and about was to buy from one of the sellers you
see sitting at farm entrance with a tray of vegetables for sale, we bought at
least half their stock which was rarely more than ₹
250, and then later in the day give the fruit or vegetables to a needy family.
Life
here has not been easy for us, money is short and India is more expensive to
live in as a foreigner than we had first imagined not least of which is the
annual expense of renewing our visas. Add to that the compulsory return to the
UK every five years to reapply for a visa. Our only income is our pension so
things get pretty tight at times.
We
rent a house that frankly in the UK we would never be able to afford. We have a
reasonably comfortable lifestyle. We could have had more had we not been
committed to helping as many people as we could in almost any way we could. Our
life here settled down with us both teaching at an architectural College. It
was challenging but very satisfying work to help these young people shows
themselves of a better future both them and in a wider sense for their country.
In
the years we have been here India has moved from being viewed as a third world
country to a major player on the world stage. We have been privileged to see
this change begin and are both convinced that in the years to come India will
continue to develop for the betterment of its economy and people but we pray retaining
the closeness of family that makes India so unique.
Since
we came to India we have made many very good friends and have earned the trust
of those around us. Christians here in India get a bad press, and to be fair
there are two sides to this story.
We
have lived in the community here in India for 11 years now, Muslims, Hindu and Sikh
around us. The difference in our religious beliefs has never been an issue
between us.
We
are Christian; we try to live as Jesus would want us to, helping those we can
and never judging.
He
has given us an incredible life since he brought us together and we will always
praise him for what he has done for us.
In
September 2018 God gave us an awesome gift.
A
little girl called Geeta. Part 1.
I
suppose it is always difficult knowing where to start a story like this.
For
me it began when a very close friend came to visit to show us his new Royal
Enfield motorcycle. It was brand-new the latest model. It was beautiful, as I
leant over it my bare leg (I was wearing shorts) rested against the very hot
exhaust. That produced a really deep burn, among some bikers this is called an
exhaust kiss because of the shape of the burn it leaves. Typical male reaction
I ignored it until the next day… Big mistake. A huge blister had formed and the
area about it was badly inflamed about 2 inches across. By the second day it
was infected and leaking. Christine my wife, a retired senior nurse who had
worked with burns patients suggested (not very politely) that I should have
told her much sooner and not left it until now. She cleaned the burn and from
that day began treating it with antibiotics and daily fresh dressings, a very
painful experience. There is in my opinion no pain greater than a burn. You
break your leg you have intense pain until it is put in plaster then it just
becomes an ache. A burn hurts all the time; the slightest movement of the
dressing brings a deep stab of intense pain to the wound. In the years I have
been riding motorcycles I have broken bones, torn tendons and suffered what is
laughingly called gravel rash. I stand by my statement nothing I have ever
experienced hurts more than a burn.
Slowly
the wound began to heal and I was in less pain.
As
I have said this burn was quite deep and was resisting healing. My raki sister Amba
who had been looking at the wound and watching it slowly heal, was obviously
impressed that Christine had stopped the infection and the burn was healing asked
her would she look at a burn her sisters little girl had on her arm. Christine
of course agreed immediately. I should explain about Rakhi, in India a man can
be asked to become a brother to a woman, acceptance means that you commit as a
real brother would to protect her and care for her, she in turn commits to look
after you as she would a brother.
This
is a very real commitment for both people and joins their families together in
the same way as a marriage would. I consider myself to be honoured that I am
accepted as a brother by her family. Since Amba’s sister lived several hours
distance away in a tribal village it was arranged that she would come and visit
in a few days. At this point we had no suspicion that what we were going to see
would change our lives forever.
I
will never forget the first day I met Geeta. Her mother had arrived carrying a small
bundle of a child. She was thin, undernourished and extremely ill. She looked
so terrified of what was going to happen to her now. The reason for this terror
we were to discover a little later. Her mother sat and unwrapped Geeta from the
shawl she was wearing. Her arm was horrific. Burnt from hand to shoulder, raw
flesh with infected puss leaking from it, she had lost so much flesh that her
elbow bones were exposed. Her arm was tightly clutched to her chest and her
hand was angled back from the wrist and frozen in position. At first we thought
she was just holding it in this position but we were soon to discover the real
cause. The smell from the wound was horrible, putrification had set in and
there were several areas that were gangrenous.
Geeta
had been left alone by an open fire unsupervised. Her mother was in the fields
planting crops; her father was not on the scene at the time. The simple
wraparound clothing she was wearing court fire. She panicked and ran around
screaming until help arrived. By now she was horrifically burnt up her right
hand side running from hip to head. Her arm was by far the worst damaged being
burnt through in places to the bone.
Christine
was deeply shocked by the condition of the wound, she had been expecting as had
I, a wound on the child’s arm, not this horrific damage that had obviously been
neglected for some considerable time. Christine immediately insisted that we
take her to our local hospital and see a doctor as an emergency. The doctor
examined her and could not hide his shock when he saw the wound. After
examining it closely and assessing the amount of damage already done to prevent
the gangrene spreading into her bloodstream he recommended an immediate
amputation just below the shoulder.
We
learned later that he was in fact the second Dr to recommend amputation. When
the injury first occurred her parents took her to a government hospital where
they were told that it had to be treated with daily dressings and antibiotics
and that would have to be done in hospital which they could not afford even
with the government hoped they could get or her arm could be amputated.
Amputation was the doctor’s recommendation. Her parents refused treatment and
took her home. Please don’t judge, her parents have no education to speak of
and certainly know nothing about modern hospitals or healthcare. They had
complete faith that the tribal medicine
men would be able to cure her with magic and local remedies. Geeta is from
a tribal community where there is occasionally formal education at a local
school when the teacher turns up which we gather is rarely. She came from an
environment utterly different to ours. The mud built hut she lived in with its plant
leaf, plastic and wood leaking roof in monsoon and cooking temperatures during
summer was all she knew.
Her father earned some money as a day labourer
when work was available, that and the government ration was barely enough to
feed all three of them. I have to stress here that this is not an unusual
circumstance. Life in the villages is still very primitive. When we first came
here it was unusual for a village to have electricity or a pump. A water pump,
(hand operated) is usually shared by all the families in a given area. This may
be several villages. The women daily carry the water they will use back from
the well in containers balanced on their head regardless of the weather. If
they can keep a goat or cow and probably some chickens they are considered very
fortunate despite the amount of extra work this means for the woman, and of
course the extra trips to the well for water for the animals. Water, food and
care of her husband and children is entirely the woman’s responsibility. A lot
of the time this will also include animal care and preparing the ground sowing
and gathering a crop if they have space to grow anything. Some husbands will
help with some of the tasks but not all by any means. You’ll certainly never
see men carrying water. Women are still considered property and have very few
rights within the village communities despite the law that gives them equal
rights. Most tribal women have no idea that such a law exists. The law also
prevents them from being married off at 14 years old but this often happens in
tribal communities it is difficult to enforce among tribal people who have been
living as they are for centuries. Within the cities and among the more educated
the law is obeyed and men except that women cannot marry before 18 years of age
without parental permission but inequality is still common.
Listening
to the doctor Christine was convinced that amputation could be avoided. She is
a highly experienced senior nurse who has worked with burn victims in the UK.
Despite being told by the doctor that blood tests had shown serious
deficiencies and had also shown she was now resistant to the vast majority of
antibiotics.
During
her treatment in the village antibiotics were fed to her like sweets. An
antibiotic can do anything is the general opinion of the lot of the Indian
population. This belief is almost magical in the village where infected wounds
from dirt or rusty tools have been cured in a few days with antibiotics
administered sometimes by local doctor, more often simply purchased across the
counter at one of the many medical shops. Misunderstanding ailments where
antibiotics are useless such as a common cold has led to a great deal of misuse
in the community which in turn leads to resistance to those antibiotics. Geeta
was one of these victims of antibiotic misuse.
I
have tried to convey to you how I felt when I first saw Geeta’s condition; it
was actually much worse for Christine because she understood more than I did
just how horrendous this injury was. I have a asked Christine to give her
assessment of Geeta at that time as she understands the medical implications
far better than I do.
Christine.
My first impression of Geeta was that she looked
frail, scared, desperately ill and in excruciating pain. I could not believe
she was nearly five years old as she looked to be about 18 months to 2 years only.
She was carried into our home by her mother Dloo. I noted that her general
muscle tone was very poor, she presented like a child with floppy baby syndrome
and could not weight bear. It has been many years that I saw such an ill child
and it was heart breaking.
As her arm was uncovered I was shocked at the state of
her arm and hand. The smell was overpowering, it was like decomposing flesh,
gangrene and severe infection all rolled into one. Her hand was contracted at
the wrist and I was not able to see her fingers or thumb due to the oedema, the
swelling was so severe. The arm was an open ulcerated area from hand to just
below her shoulder. It was weeping with green pus and her elbow was degloved
which means you could see her bone was exposed with no skin over it.
There were no dressings over the wound just a cloth to
cover it and it had stuck in many places, causing bleeding. Apparently in the
village it was covered in Turmeric and cleaned off every other day which caused
extreme pain. It is thought that it has antiseptic properties and can be useful
in minor injuries but I would never recommend it with this type of wound, as it
is painful both when applied and when removed taking some of the skin with it.
It was obvious this had been a deep and severe burn made
worse by neglect and mistreatment over about an 18month period. I had been told
her shawl and clothing caught fire when she got too close to an outside fire in
the village then ran around screaming until someone put the flames out.
I had expected to find a bad burn with some infection
but I was not prepared for what I saw before me, Chris was also shocked, but I
knew she needed urgent hospital treatment NOW.
I discussed it with Chris, that we needed an emergency
appointment and I phoned my doctor at the local hospital and we took her to see
him straight away.
We were immediately taken into the treatment room and
my doctor examined her. It was evident to me that the nurses and doctor were
shocked and horrified at what was before them. The smell of putrification was
quite overpowering but I did not allow Geeta to see my horror.
The doctor suggested the only treatment to save her
life was amputation below the shoulder. (I said NO) the reason is that I have
experience of looking after patients with severe burns needing intensive
treatment, dressings and care and felt I could at least try to improve her
condition with good old fashioned nursing, a good aseptic technique and a good
well balanced diet which she was lacking. She had been having roti, milk and occasional
rice and vegetables.
The doctor and I discussed her immediate treatment and
we decided she would need to reduce the fluid loss in the ulcers and daily
dressings and pain relief.
Blood tests and Swabs were taken; her arm cleaned and
dressed, this was heart breaking for me as it was agony for Geeta despite local
anaesthetic and an injection for pain. The plan was to attend hospital daily
for dressings and to talk to Dloo and her sister about staying with us for a
few weeks to allow this to happen, they lived too far away to travel. We gave
Geeta and her mother our main bedroom with ensuite bathroom.
After a couple of days I felt it was too painful for
Geeta to have her dressings done at the hospital as they had limited knowledge
of this sort of injury, modern medical dressings and supplies that would be
required. I would do the dressings at home soaking off the dressings and using
aseptic techniques I was trained in and using modern non adherent dressings
etc. This I knew would need to be sourced locally irrespective of the cost but
I had at least two good contacts who made this happen. The dressings I needed
would be many and expensive but Chris and I had no hesitation about doing this.
I would also need gloves, gauze, gelanet dressings, cotton wool, antiseptic
cleaner, antiseptic hand wash, masks, bandages, hydroheal gel to put back some
of the lost fluid and lignocaine gel to ease the pain locally. We spent
thousands of rupees every couple of weeks on supplies and dressings, as
initially I had to redress her wound twice daily for several weeks but she was getting the right treatment.
Geeta knew I was trying to help her with the minimum of pain and was much
happier for me to dress her arm than she had been at the hospital.
Geeta’s blood tests showed she was severely anaemic
with an HB of 4, malnutrition was evident, she had osteoporosis and she wasn’t
five yet. I was diagnosed with it at 40 and was told that was young. Severe
infections noted from her swabs too many to mention, also showed she was resistant
to over 90% of antibiotics due to misuse and over prescribing.
Chris would hold her hand as she sat on her mother’s
knee for me to do the dressing. We soon figured we needed to find a way to
distract her during this and Chris suggested the TV so Motu Patlu cartoon
became the norm and. It worked a treat infection and new skin was growing
albeit very very slowly
The smell was still overpowering but the pus was less
obvious. By now Geeta trusted me and
would not let anyone else dress her arm. . By about the end of the second month
I was dressing the wound daily but I still continued to take advice from my
doctor and he recommended a plastic surgeon.
After seeing
extensive photographs of the ulcerated wound and treatment could see some
improvement since I had begun the dressings, and told me to carry on the good
work. After a few weeks I was starting to beat the infection.
The plastic surgeon said she would need several
operations and that initially each operation would be about a lakh with extra
cost for anaesthetist and inpatient stay (1 lakh equals approximately £ 1000).
It would be complex and in the end he did not feel he had the skill to do this
so referred us to the plastic surgeon at the government hospital, who again
recommended amputation. However he did agree to operate once I had stabilised
the infection in the arm, by continuing with the daily dressings and treatment.
It was nine months after coming to us that the first surgery would be done.
We hope that this account and others that will
follow can show what an amazingly strong little girl Geeta is. We hope it also
shows what faith in the power of God can do.
Chris and Kris....and of course Geeta
India
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