There are moments in this work that bring you to your knees, not from despair, but from wonder. From watching something broken become whole again before your very eyes. Lisa's story is one of those moments. (Names have been changed to protect the identity of the child)
Lisa came to us at 14 years old. She had survived something no child should ever have to survive, a violent sexual assault at the age of 12, which left her not only with the trauma of that experience, but with a devastating physical consequence: two large, debilitating growths caused by a sexually transmitted infection contracted during the attack. For two years, Lisa had lived with these growths. She had been unable to sit comfortably, unable to walk freely, unable to sleep with her legs straight. She had largely been cast aside, isolated from those around her, excluded from normal childhood experiences, and carrying a burden of shame that was never hers to carry. She had come to believe that this was simply how her life would be. That she would never be normal. That she would never be included. She was 14 years old, and she had already stopped hoping.
When the news of Lisa's situation was shared, carefully and with her wellbeing at the centre of every decision, the response from the community was extraordinary. The story spread through social media and was covered by Gateway News, and support came pouring in from across South Africa and as far away as England. Donors gave. Medical professionals gave. Strangers who had never met Lisa and never would opened their hearts and gave. A date was set for surgery. And then, as so often happens in life, everything changed without warning. Lisa became very ill, very suddenly, and the operation had to happen immediately. There was no time to plan, no time to prepare, we had to move fast, changing hospitals at the last minute to the most expensive facility in town. There was no discount from the hospital. But the nursing care was exceptional, and a number of medical professionals gave their services entirely for free. And because of the generosity of everyone who had contributed, there was enough. For the theatre fees. For the hospital fees. For everything.
The surgeon performed a magnificent procedure. So successful was the operation that Lisa will, in all likelihood, not require any further medical intervention. Her recovery has not been without pain. Her post-operative wound is much like a burn wound... raw and incredibly tender. The daily cleaning and dressing changes are deeply painful, and there are moments during those procedures that are very difficult for everyone present. But the improvement each day has been dramatic. What hurt so much yesterday is measurably better today. And then there is the other healing, the one that no surgery can perform, but that we have watched unfold with our own eyes.
The change in Lisa's emotional and mental wellbeing has been profound. There is a freedom in the way she moves through the world now, in the way she speaks, the way she holds herself, the way she engages with the people around her. Even her English has improved. She is coming alive. She can sit on the couch and watch a movie. She can sleep with her legs straight. She can walk across the garden, hang up washing, help cook supper, and bathe the babies. These are things most of us have never once had to think about. For Lisa, each one of them is a miracle.
She can sit on the couch and watch a movie. She can sleep with her legs straight. She can walk across the garden, hang up washing, help cook supper, and bathe the babies. These are things most of us have never once had to think about. For Lisa, each one of them is a miracle.
The first words she spoke after waking from the operation were directed at Mark and me.
"Mommy and Daddy, I am so excited that I don't smell anymore."
I cannot write those words without tears. She thought she would carry that shame forever. She never imagined she could be free of it. And in that one sentence, in that first foggy, post-anaesthetic breath, she told us everything we needed to know about what this surgery meant to her. We ask for your continued prayers as Lisa makes this transition back into normal life. She is brave, she is grateful, and she is ready.
To every person who donated, large amounts and small. To the medical professionals who gave their skills freely. You gave Lisa her life back. You gave her the freedom to sit down without pain, to walk without shame, to look at the world and feel, perhaps for the first time, that she belongs in it.
Rene Morcom
