It breaks my heart and I hate to admit it, but he has been on the ward with us since we removed the small football sized tumor from his shoulder more than four months ago. The surgery to remove the tumor from his shoulder went extremely well. The skilled, South African, surgeon that removed his tumor grafted new skin from his right thigh to cover the gaping wound that was left in his shoulder after removing the mass that had protruded from his arm for far too many years. A few weeks after his surgery his skin graft had taken and his shoulder was healing. He started to learn shoulder range of motion. He was ecstatic when he got to use his regained shoulder range of motion to wave at his brother, who was in a fishing boat that randomly passed by the ship one afternoon during the patient’s daily trip outside to deck seven of the ship. We loved watching him stare at the clock each day waiting in anticipation for the daily patient trip outside. Another day he randomly saw another one of his family members float past the ship in a tattered fishing boat and the smile on his face melted our hearts. We got so excited for him and his “family sightings” from deck seven, that we started making nursing notes in our charge nurse handover notes about who he got to wave at each day. His happiness added to our happiness.
Although his shoulder was healing well, the donor site on his thigh that we grafted skin from was not healing well. Then it got infected. As soon as we thought the skin was getting better, another area of infection would appear and the fragile skin that was healing would once again break open and pus. This cycle of almost total healing, then wound breakdown has continued and despite our best efforts, his years of malnutrition and poor skin condition in general have made his healing process extremely lengthy and prolonged.
He has been sad, depressed, discouraged, and questions why it has taken so long for his leg to heal. We ask the same questions. He misses his wife and kids; the waves from deck seven of the ship aren’t enough. He needs his family, but they live too far away and cannot travel each day to visit him. We are discouraged, but know God is big enough to heal his leg. And praise God, just this past week his healing has sped up and we pray that soon he will be able to go home.
Yesterday, he asked to speak to me and I hate to admit it, but I tried to avoid him, not wanting to tell him once again that he was not ready to be discharged. He started to speak to me in Krio, the main language here in Sierra Leone. I understand most Krio, but wanted the support of a translator to help me explain once again to my patient that I didn’t know why his leg wasn’t healing, but that I was praying with him for it to get better, and that we weren’t giving up on his healing. He agreed to wait for me while I found a translator. I prepped my translator, telling her about the situation before we approached my waiting patient. With a heavy heart, we approached my patient once again and I had my translator start to explain to him that it wasn’t time for him to go home yet.
She started speaking in a local tribal language and smiled at me and was laughing with the patient. I was confused and interrupted her, telling her to tell the patient what I asked her to tell him because I was certain if she had really told him that he couldn’t go home, that he wouldn’t be laughing. She stopped me and said, “No, Laura, it is okay.” I was dumbfounded. It wasn’t really okay. My patient has been here more than 130 days and his wound still isn’t better. She said, “No, it really is okay, He just wants to know if when he finally goes home if he could take a towel with him. He doesn’t have one at home.”
All the heaviness that had been on my shoulders lifted. I breathed a sigh of relief and told my patient he could most definitely have a towel when he goes home. He smiled from ear to ear, shook my hand, and thanked me for all we are doing for him, and walked back to his humble bed, in a busy ward, to wait for his healing, but somehow comforted by the idea that he would have a towel to take home.
Dear Father in Heaven! Thanks for my patients. Thanks for the healing YOU WILL BRING THIS PATIENT. Thanks for the chance to be here & thanks for simple things like towels. (Next time you use a towel- please pray for my patient, that he will soon heal & be able to take home the towel I promised him).
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
...No Matter What...
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| Carrying the load of being the Orthopedic & Plastic Surgery Team Leader/Ward Manager, the Assistant Ward Supervisor, & Interim Ward Supervisor all at once was intense! This photo is evidence of just how I felt. I wanted to get into a box (well, you can see I did that)...hide...or get shipped home! I didn't get shipped home, but I did fly home for a much needed break a few weeks ago! Despite the challenges I have faced here on the ship this year.... I resolve to live by the lyrics to one of my current favorite songs by Kerrie Roberts...NO MATTER WHAT! |
No Matter What
I'm running back to Your promises, one more time
I'm running back to Your promises, one more time
Lord that’s all I can hold on to
I’ve got to say this has taken me, by surprise
But nothing surprises You
Before a heartache, can ever touch my life
It has to go through Your hands
And even though I, I keep asking why
I keep asking why
No matter what, I’m gonna love You
No matter what, I’m gonna need You
I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, if not - I’ll trust You
No matter what (no matter, no matter what, no matter)
No matter what (no matter, no matter what – no matter, no matter what)
When I’m stuck in this nothingness, by myself
I’m just sitting in silence
There’s no way I can make it, without Your help
I won’t even try it
I know You have Your reasons, for everything
So I will keep believing
Whatever I might be feeling
God You are my hope, and You’ll be my strength
No matter what, I’m gonna love You
No matter what, I’m gonna need You
I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, if not - I’ll trust You
No matter what (no matter, no matter what, no matter)
No matter what (no matter, no matter what – no matter, no matter what)
Anything I don’t have, You can give it to me
But it’s OK if You don’t
I’m not here for those things
The touch of Your love is enough on its own
And no matter what, I still love You
And I’m gonna need You
No matter what, I’m gonna love You
No matter what, I’m gonna need You
I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, if not - I’ll trust You
I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, but if not, I’ll trust You
No matter what (no matter)
No matter what (no matter, no matter what)
No matter - no matter what
(No matter - no matter what)
No matter - no matter what
(No matter - no matter what)
No matter - no matter what
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Answered Ice-Cream Prayers
There are few things in life that excite me more than a big bowl of ice-cream! It doesn’t matter if it is 7:00am on the coldest winter morning, with snow-flakes falling out of the heavens, or 113* degrees at 2:00am on a hot summer night, I feel ice-cream is always an appropriate snack. Simply put, I love ice-cream! My love for ice-cream has followed me all the way to Africa, which has created a small empty spot in my life for the last few years. I’ve looked, believe me, I’ve searched, but there isn’t a Dairy Queen, TCBY, Dip n’ Dots, Baskin Robbins, Ben & Jerry's, Jean's, FORE-U, or Dairy Twirl, anywhere around here!
I fill the ice-cream void in my life as able on my vacations and trips home, but sometimes I just need a good bowl of ice-cream here, when I want it! Thanks to a buddy of mine, his creativity, camp counselor history, and love for surfing the internet searching for fun recipes, my selfish “ice-cream need” prayers have been answered and I can now have ice-cream anytime I want! Try-out the following recipe for a yummy bowl of inexpensive, missionary in Africa, soft-serve, ice-cream! For fun you can add different spices or items to your mixture for a different flavor of ice-cream. We made mango, chocolate, cinnamon, & coconut-ginger flavors! Enjoy!
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon sugar
4 cups crushed ice
4 tablespoons salt
2 quart size Zip-loc bags
1 gallon size Zip-loc freezer bag
a hand towel or gloves to keep fingers from freezing as well!
Mix the milk, vanilla and sugar together in one of the quart size bags. Seal tightly, allowing as little air to remain in the bag as possible. Too much air left inside may force the bag open during shaking. Place this bag inside the other quart size bag, again leaving as little air inside as possible and sealing well. By double-bagging, the risk of salt and ice leaking into the ice cream is minimized. Put the two bags inside the gallon size bag and fill the bag with ice, then sprinkle salt on top. Again let all the air escape and seal the bag. Wrap the bag in the towel or put your gloves on, and shake and massage the bag, making sure the ice surrounds the cream mixture. Five to eight minutes is adequate time for the mixture to freeze into ice cream.
http://teachnet.com/lessonplans/science/plastic-bag-ice-cream-recipe/
I fill the ice-cream void in my life as able on my vacations and trips home, but sometimes I just need a good bowl of ice-cream here, when I want it! Thanks to a buddy of mine, his creativity, camp counselor history, and love for surfing the internet searching for fun recipes, my selfish “ice-cream need” prayers have been answered and I can now have ice-cream anytime I want! Try-out the following recipe for a yummy bowl of inexpensive, missionary in Africa, soft-serve, ice-cream! For fun you can add different spices or items to your mixture for a different flavor of ice-cream. We made mango, chocolate, cinnamon, & coconut-ginger flavors! Enjoy!
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon sugar
4 cups crushed ice
4 tablespoons salt
2 quart size Zip-loc bags
1 gallon size Zip-loc freezer bag
a hand towel or gloves to keep fingers from freezing as well!
Mix the milk, vanilla and sugar together in one of the quart size bags. Seal tightly, allowing as little air to remain in the bag as possible. Too much air left inside may force the bag open during shaking. Place this bag inside the other quart size bag, again leaving as little air inside as possible and sealing well. By double-bagging, the risk of salt and ice leaking into the ice cream is minimized. Put the two bags inside the gallon size bag and fill the bag with ice, then sprinkle salt on top. Again let all the air escape and seal the bag. Wrap the bag in the towel or put your gloves on, and shake and massage the bag, making sure the ice surrounds the cream mixture. Five to eight minutes is adequate time for the mixture to freeze into ice cream.
http://teachnet.com/lessonplans/science/plastic-bag-ice-cream-recipe/
 |
| ...everyone loves a little ice-cream... american, austrian, american, american, kiwi (from new zealand) (a few of my ice-cream making friends- from left to right by country of origin)... |
Cabin Sweet Cabin
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| Thank you Jesus for a comfy bed & for the small things, like the fact that my roommate's duvet matched mine! I love an organized- color-coordinating cabin! |
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| I am so thankful for my living room. Most cabins on the ship do not have a living room. My couch is made out of towels, extra blankets, odd shaped pillows, old car cushions, a rug rolled up, you name it & I probably have it rolled up under the blanket you see. All in all...it is pretty comfy! Thanks Mom for teaching me how to be creative & thrifty! |
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| Thank you Jesus for my fridge! Most cabins on the ship do not have their own fridge in them. Thank you Jesus for the grace & patience you are giving me with roommates that are trying to grow science projects in the fridge! |
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| Thank you Jesus for my extra-large living room! I was blessed to be assigned to one of the cabins that has the largest back space- living room/pantry/office/entertainment center/laundry room out of the entire ship.... Seriously Jesus, thank you for my Cabin....Sweet....Cabin |
Plastic Surgery Team 2011
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| ...Surgeons, Nurse Team Leader (me) Nurse Clinical Educator, Occupational Therapist, Physical Therapist... also known as the torture team...the kids scream when we come near them (dressing changes & exercises) but we know the temporary pain they are experiencing is worth the gain they will have in the future... |
Special Visitors
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| ...and then there was the day at work when the President & Vice President of Sierra Leone stopped over... |
...here i am to worship...
Where his right leg had once been, only a stump remained, he would never walk normally again. He was not out of the woods yet, the infection that has started to creep up his leg could have gone farther than we knew. His road to recovery was just beginning. Our hearts were heavy, but we thanked God for a successful, safe operation, and prayed that God would hold this little boy in his hands and be with him as he woke up and faced the reality that his leg was gone.
…As the anesthesia wore off, he came to, and all he asked for was a balloon…
It has been over a month now since he had his right leg amputated. He has never once complained. When I come into the ward in the morning, he is one of the first to shout out, “Mornin, Laura, how da body?” I greet him from across the room and say, “Mornin Doctor, how u sleep & how are the other patients?” He giggles and tells me the rest of the patients are fine. As I look around the ward at my plastics patients, all the other children hide their eyes, believing if they don’t make eye contact with me, they won’t have to have their dressings changed. As I am still scanning the room checking how everyone is doing, my little balloon loving friend, volunteers to have his dressing changed first. I say, “Doctor, that is very brave of you, but very wise, as we have many other dressing changes to do today and I need your help, so we will do yours first, and then you can help me encourage the other patients to have theirs done too!” He giggles again and hops out of bed, grabs his crutches, adjusts the toy stethoscope, around his neck that we have given him to play with, and he says, “le go, le go” (meaning let’s go, I’m ready).
Another nurse assists with his dressing change as I assume my post at the computer updating all the patient information on the computer census. I get lost in mounds of paperwork and sorting out of this and that. I run in and out of the ward, looking for this medicine, creating the item that the nurse needs out of a piece of that tubing and this device and then with the most sincere, straight face, I explain to the new nurse how to use what I just created. She looks at me like I am crazy and I just smile and say, “We do things a little differently around here.” I call the doctor and ask what antibiotic he would like me to use instead of the one he just ordered, because the pharmacy just informed me we are all out of the ordered antibiotic and won’t have any more until the next shipping container arrives. I dash off to the lab after receiving a text page saying... “We’ve got something interesting for you to look at…” I rush into the lab with a grin on my face and say, “don’t tell me, I want to see if I can figure it out on my own.” After a 5 second peek down the microscope, I announce “schistosomiasis mansoni!” The lab tech nods her head in agreement. I say, “Cool, well not for the patient, but cool” and dash out the lab, once again reminding them to call me anytime there is anything interesting to see so that I can keep working on my skills.
In the hallway, on my way back to the ward, I see a beautiful African mother carrying a little buddle of brightly colored, African fabric in her hands. I know that inside the bundle of fabric, there has got to be one precious little baby. I smile at the mother and urge her to let me see inside the fabric pile that she holds with such care. I grin from ear to ear as I see a little head covered with a mop of curly hair a little baby with a cleft lip smiling up at me. I tell the mama her baby is BEAUTIFUL…and I bounce off toward the ward.
Once back in the ward, I sit down at the desk and make assignments for the evening shift, considering each nurse’s skill set and determining which patients they are best gifted to care for. With a list of 10 million other things I still have to do before the shift finishes, running around my head, I move on to the next task in front of me. Tackling each challenge and question I am presented with one at a time, I smile and carry on. As I am still working madly on everything that needs done, I hear this little voice singing “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” the little voice continues repeating the same line over and over… “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” I look around the ward wondering where the little angelic voice is coming from and wonder how she learned the words to one of my favorite worship songs. I ascertain the voice is coming from a little girl who I find sitting next to my balloon loving friend. The two of them are coloring together, sitting on the floor next to his bed. She keeps singing and he just looks up and smiles at me.
I stop everything I am doing and listen to her singing as best she can, stammering over her words. I pause… and confess once again that that is why I am here…that’s why I am on a hospital ship in Africa…that’s what it’s all about…here I am to worship…here I am to bow down… here I am to tell them that YOU ARE MY GOD! You are altogether lovely, altogether worthy; altogether wonderful to me…Here I am to worship!
…As the anesthesia wore off, he came to, and all he asked for was a balloon…
It has been over a month now since he had his right leg amputated. He has never once complained. When I come into the ward in the morning, he is one of the first to shout out, “Mornin, Laura, how da body?” I greet him from across the room and say, “Mornin Doctor, how u sleep & how are the other patients?” He giggles and tells me the rest of the patients are fine. As I look around the ward at my plastics patients, all the other children hide their eyes, believing if they don’t make eye contact with me, they won’t have to have their dressings changed. As I am still scanning the room checking how everyone is doing, my little balloon loving friend, volunteers to have his dressing changed first. I say, “Doctor, that is very brave of you, but very wise, as we have many other dressing changes to do today and I need your help, so we will do yours first, and then you can help me encourage the other patients to have theirs done too!” He giggles again and hops out of bed, grabs his crutches, adjusts the toy stethoscope, around his neck that we have given him to play with, and he says, “le go, le go” (meaning let’s go, I’m ready).
Another nurse assists with his dressing change as I assume my post at the computer updating all the patient information on the computer census. I get lost in mounds of paperwork and sorting out of this and that. I run in and out of the ward, looking for this medicine, creating the item that the nurse needs out of a piece of that tubing and this device and then with the most sincere, straight face, I explain to the new nurse how to use what I just created. She looks at me like I am crazy and I just smile and say, “We do things a little differently around here.” I call the doctor and ask what antibiotic he would like me to use instead of the one he just ordered, because the pharmacy just informed me we are all out of the ordered antibiotic and won’t have any more until the next shipping container arrives. I dash off to the lab after receiving a text page saying... “We’ve got something interesting for you to look at…” I rush into the lab with a grin on my face and say, “don’t tell me, I want to see if I can figure it out on my own.” After a 5 second peek down the microscope, I announce “schistosomiasis mansoni!” The lab tech nods her head in agreement. I say, “Cool, well not for the patient, but cool” and dash out the lab, once again reminding them to call me anytime there is anything interesting to see so that I can keep working on my skills.
In the hallway, on my way back to the ward, I see a beautiful African mother carrying a little buddle of brightly colored, African fabric in her hands. I know that inside the bundle of fabric, there has got to be one precious little baby. I smile at the mother and urge her to let me see inside the fabric pile that she holds with such care. I grin from ear to ear as I see a little head covered with a mop of curly hair a little baby with a cleft lip smiling up at me. I tell the mama her baby is BEAUTIFUL…and I bounce off toward the ward.
Once back in the ward, I sit down at the desk and make assignments for the evening shift, considering each nurse’s skill set and determining which patients they are best gifted to care for. With a list of 10 million other things I still have to do before the shift finishes, running around my head, I move on to the next task in front of me. Tackling each challenge and question I am presented with one at a time, I smile and carry on. As I am still working madly on everything that needs done, I hear this little voice singing “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” the little voice continues repeating the same line over and over… “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” I look around the ward wondering where the little angelic voice is coming from and wonder how she learned the words to one of my favorite worship songs. I ascertain the voice is coming from a little girl who I find sitting next to my balloon loving friend. The two of them are coloring together, sitting on the floor next to his bed. She keeps singing and he just looks up and smiles at me.
I stop everything I am doing and listen to her singing as best she can, stammering over her words. I pause… and confess once again that that is why I am here…that’s why I am on a hospital ship in Africa…that’s what it’s all about…here I am to worship…here I am to bow down… here I am to tell them that YOU ARE MY GOD! You are altogether lovely, altogether worthy; altogether wonderful to me…Here I am to worship!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
...All he asked for was a balloon...
He had a small sore on his leg, just a scratch, a mere nick in the skin. Had he lived in the Western world he would have just ran to his mother and the two of them would have headed to the bathroom sink to wash off the blood and apply a Snoopy band-aid. The sore would have healed within days…
Instead, he lived in Africa… The pinpoint sized cut didn’t heal; it got infected and increased in size. Unsure what to do about the infection growing in their son’s leg; his parents took him to the local traditional healer-witch doctor. The witch doctor poured a boiling liquid on the little boy’s fragile, infected skin. Now, on top of infection, the little boy had deep burns to his right leg that eventually healed, but healed but with the skin in a contracted form. The burns disfigured the little boy’s right leg, making it impossible to run, play, or walk without crutches; a small, innocent abrasion, changing forever the hopes and dreams of a little Sierra Leonean boy.
That little boy made it to the Mercy Ship. He underwent two surgeries last week to clean up one of the chronic infections that he has dealt with in his leg every since the original scratch showed up. On his third surgery, the skilled plastic surgeon’s gently released the contracted skin that had been holding his leg hostage, in a locked position; they grafted healthy skin to cover up the skin that he had lost.
Such a brave little boy, three surgeries in one week! Anyone else undergoing the type of surgery he had would have been in intense pain requiring a narcotic drip or pain pump, he barely made a peep, his pain controlled with mere Tylenol, Ibuprofen, and an occasional tablet of Codeine. He sat contently in his corner bed coloring pictures of African animals. Who would have known that cheetahs and frogs are actually 12 different colors? He was so polite and would laugh and laugh as his crazy nurses danced around the ward during ward worship time.
After surgery he got a fever, but it was less than 24 hours post-operatively, too soon for a surgical infection, could this little boy who had been through so much already, have malaria as well? The lab smear-viewed and partially diagnosed by myself, declared he indeed had malaria. Anti-malaria treatment started, but the fevers didn’t subside. A few days later vomiting, diarrhea, and massive bleeding from his right leg started. Emergently, we rushed him back to surgery; our plastic surgeon and general surgeon worked for hours attempting a vascular surgery- a venous graft from his left leg to where an arterial bleed had started in his right leg. The rest of our general surgical cases had to be cancelled for that day.
While the surgeons began another hour of surgery on our little patient from the corner bed, I gathered the nurses on the ward once again to pray for the surgeons, the little boy’s family, our little Sierra Leonean patient, and for all the patients whose surgeries had to be put on hold because of the emergency. We remembered how in history, Jesus had cured a woman who had been bleeding for years, of course, God could cure our patient that had been bleeding for a few hours. God carried our little man through surgery. His bleeding stopped; we gave him a few units of blood, one from the very anesthetist that managed his respiratory and fluid balance status while his fragile body was asleep. We cared for him in the ICU and prayed fervently that his leg would be okay, that blood flow would be sustained, and that he would heal quickly. Our little Sierra Leonean patient woke up from the grueling surgery, smiled, and all he asked for was a balloon.
A few days have passed since our little patient’s miracle surgery, but he isn’t doing well. His leg has lost blood supply and in a matter of minutes he will be returning to surgery for an above the knee amputation of his right leg. He didn't ask for any of this...He didn't ask for infection, He didn't ask for burns, He didn't ask for malaria, He didn't ask for surgical complications....All he asked for was a balloon...And all I ask of you... on his behalf... is that you pray....
Instead, he lived in Africa… The pinpoint sized cut didn’t heal; it got infected and increased in size. Unsure what to do about the infection growing in their son’s leg; his parents took him to the local traditional healer-witch doctor. The witch doctor poured a boiling liquid on the little boy’s fragile, infected skin. Now, on top of infection, the little boy had deep burns to his right leg that eventually healed, but healed but with the skin in a contracted form. The burns disfigured the little boy’s right leg, making it impossible to run, play, or walk without crutches; a small, innocent abrasion, changing forever the hopes and dreams of a little Sierra Leonean boy.
That little boy made it to the Mercy Ship. He underwent two surgeries last week to clean up one of the chronic infections that he has dealt with in his leg every since the original scratch showed up. On his third surgery, the skilled plastic surgeon’s gently released the contracted skin that had been holding his leg hostage, in a locked position; they grafted healthy skin to cover up the skin that he had lost.
Such a brave little boy, three surgeries in one week! Anyone else undergoing the type of surgery he had would have been in intense pain requiring a narcotic drip or pain pump, he barely made a peep, his pain controlled with mere Tylenol, Ibuprofen, and an occasional tablet of Codeine. He sat contently in his corner bed coloring pictures of African animals. Who would have known that cheetahs and frogs are actually 12 different colors? He was so polite and would laugh and laugh as his crazy nurses danced around the ward during ward worship time.
After surgery he got a fever, but it was less than 24 hours post-operatively, too soon for a surgical infection, could this little boy who had been through so much already, have malaria as well? The lab smear-viewed and partially diagnosed by myself, declared he indeed had malaria. Anti-malaria treatment started, but the fevers didn’t subside. A few days later vomiting, diarrhea, and massive bleeding from his right leg started. Emergently, we rushed him back to surgery; our plastic surgeon and general surgeon worked for hours attempting a vascular surgery- a venous graft from his left leg to where an arterial bleed had started in his right leg. The rest of our general surgical cases had to be cancelled for that day.
While the surgeons began another hour of surgery on our little patient from the corner bed, I gathered the nurses on the ward once again to pray for the surgeons, the little boy’s family, our little Sierra Leonean patient, and for all the patients whose surgeries had to be put on hold because of the emergency. We remembered how in history, Jesus had cured a woman who had been bleeding for years, of course, God could cure our patient that had been bleeding for a few hours. God carried our little man through surgery. His bleeding stopped; we gave him a few units of blood, one from the very anesthetist that managed his respiratory and fluid balance status while his fragile body was asleep. We cared for him in the ICU and prayed fervently that his leg would be okay, that blood flow would be sustained, and that he would heal quickly. Our little Sierra Leonean patient woke up from the grueling surgery, smiled, and all he asked for was a balloon.
A few days have passed since our little patient’s miracle surgery, but he isn’t doing well. His leg has lost blood supply and in a matter of minutes he will be returning to surgery for an above the knee amputation of his right leg. He didn't ask for any of this...He didn't ask for infection, He didn't ask for burns, He didn't ask for malaria, He didn't ask for surgical complications....All he asked for was a balloon...And all I ask of you... on his behalf... is that you pray....
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