Chris and Kris in India...........Geeta's story.

 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