Help bring Palliative Care to Indonesia's children

Auldina looks happy, playing with some of her friends. She is getting chubbier now and her skin looks smoother than before. She makes a hand gesture; she wants to go to the bathroom. She is a smart girl. She is indicating what she needs with sign language as she is still not able to talk properly yet. An older friend accompanies her to the toilet, while she wobbled uncertainly on her feet, having just learned to walk recently.

It’s no longer possible for her to live with her grandma. Last time I visited them there, Auldina and her mom had to sleep on a bench outside the house. Whether it was raining or not, they had to stay outside for there was no space inside grandma’s house. It is a very small house in a densely populated and marginalized area. In that house lived her grandma, grandpa, mentally-ill aunt, her mom, Auldina’s older sister and Auldina. Her father had disappeared. Her grandma is the sole breadwinner for the family by offering her service from house to house to wash their clothes.

Auldina’s mother suffered from the same immunity-compromised illness as Auldina. With both of them unwell and needing medical attention, grandma’s pitiful income was simply not sufficient to take care of both of them. With insufficient food and medication, their health quickly deteriorated. Eventually, Auldina had to leave the family and was brought to this shelter, a home for few children with similar immunity-compromised illness. But now, Auldina is separated from her family. 

Last month Auldina’s mother breathed her last breath without her youngest girl by her side. She had asked to see Auldina, for she knew she was almost the end of her journey. However, the pandemic has restricted everybody’s movement, especially for those with serious illnesses. In the end, she had to contend with hearing her baby’s voice over the phone, one last time.

I came to the shelter today. As usual, Auldina seemed energetic. However, there was something different about her. I could tell that she had learnt to be more independent. I cracked some jokes with her and we smiled at each other. I had to lean close to her ear in order for her to hear me.  I’ve got mixed feelings seeing her today after her mom’s demise. My chest felt heavy knowing that Auldina would never see her mom again. I wondered what is going on inside her mind. Has this tiny girl noticed that things are not the same anymore? Has she wondered why she’s not staying with her family? Does she remember her last call with her mom? Does she wonder why she never sees her mom's beautiful face nor hear her soothing voice anymore?

I visit Auldina once in a fortnight and call her once a week. I check on her to make sure that she takes her medicine regularly. I bring her the things she needs: her pampers, milk and medicine. Now she has to go through life alone in the shelter, away from her family. And she has to battle the illness for the rest of her life without the loving support of her parents. This has made me feel closer than ever to her. It dawned on me that my visits and support, despite the difficult challenges caused by the pandemic, are all the more crucial to this little girl now. A familiar link to the past she knew.  

A child living with an immunity-compromised illness can be severely affected in their growth and development, whether it be physically, or emotionally. Auldina has lived with this illness since she was a baby. Despite her slow development, this cute, five-year-old girl looks just as lovely as any other children. I do wish she will grow stronger and healthier as we continue to offer her our love and care.