blowing bubbles until I am light-headed

I work in an inflatable tent on a dock in Africa.  My patients wait on wooden benches beneath a make-shift awning that protects them from the sun’s blazing, hot rays. My tent looks like nothing more than a humble tent from the outside and one would have no idea from just looking at it that it doubles as a triage clinic on the inside.   My patients wait with a handful of other patients outside our modest extension to the hospital outside- which we call “Tent-Ville.” Some patients wait for admissions, other wait for physical therapy appointments. Some patients have already had their surgeries and have returned for follow-up care on an out-patient basis. Cleft lip babies (which are my favorite) wait to see the dietician who will help them gain weight and get fit for surgery. And still other patients are waiting for biopsy results, lab results, medical imagery, CT Scans, Ultrasounds, or X-rays. Some patients have come for blood pressure medications and cardiac stress testing (which includes running up the gang-way 3 times, and assessing the patients’ pulse, respiratory rate, and wellbeing after the “exercise.” We have to be creative around here without a treadmill).  I pass the group of waiting patients 100’s of times throughout the day as I move from here to there and from there to here taking care of my patient’s needs.

 I try to smile every time I pass the patients and tell them “thanks for your patience in waiting- you are important to me- and we will be with you soon”. I continue to run in and out of my tent throughout the day, taking this patient inside the hospital ship to X-ray or taking that patient’s blood that I have just drawn to the lab. Another patient needs medication from the pharmacy, so I run their prescription up the gang-way and wait at the pharmacy until their meds are ready. A different patient needs to see the surgeon so I loiter in the hall-way outside of the OR with the patient to confirm with the surgeon in between OR cases if my nursing assessment was correct and we can actually schedule a surgery for the patient.

The other patients still wait patiently for their turn to see their nurse or doctor. I see small children sitting patiently next to their parents, but starting to get a little antsy. The parents smile, but I can tell they are getting tired of waiting as well. No one enjoys a long wait at a doctor’s office.  I know the patients will be fine and for a fleeting second “I think- they can wait- they are getting free surgery and treatment from Mercy Ships after all…” I extinguish the thought as quickly as it enters my head- and think- it doesn’t matter; I can do more for them & more for HIM the one serve… I run into my tent once more, look for the bubbles and decide the list of patients I need to call can wait.

When back outside, I open the bottle of bubbles and tentatively start blowing bubbles near one of the toddler patients with crooked legs.  They stare in amazement as the bubbles form from the stick I am blowing on and then take flight in the air. The toddler looks frightened at first- then sheepishly smiles as the cool, wet, bubble bursts on their dark skin. Their gaze comes back to my direction and they step closer to me waiting for more bubbles to come. I keep blowing bubbles until I am light-headed. I cannot bring myself to stop blowing the bubbles as a previously sleeping, cleft lip baby, jumps up and down, trying to catch the bubbles so she can eat them with her giant- hole- ridden smile. She melts my heart.

Thoroughly out of breath I start to head back into my tent to put the bubbles down, but not without blowing a multitude of the bubbles at the little, old, grandpa sitting in the corner with a frown on his face. He looks at me in utter shock and pure disbelief; I hold my breath for a moment thinking I may have just made the biggest culture faux pas of my life, but then his lips form a toothless smile and his eyes light up with joy.  I breathe a sigh of relief. All the other patients burst into laughter, tension is washed away, and I duck back into my humble, inflatable tent on a dock in Africa.