Flights 1-4 Photos!

Wide Awake & the Song of the Zebu/Cebu

There have been MANY technical difficulties and I am NOT a tech gal.. Praying this posts to share what God's up to here.

August 29th

We landed, phew! Only one more flight to go! Four out of five flights were complete! Dustin and I were in AFRICA! I was more than ready to get to the ship. Dustin was more relieved to be off of planes for a few hours and thankful Mercy Ships was providing us with a hotel on the layover and we would not be spending 24 hours in the airport. Camping is one of our favorite pastimes, but not “airport camping.” Which we had the pleasure of doing in the Seychelle Islands for 8 hours on our layover when we were refused entry into the country; even though we had already paid for and had multiple email and Whatsapp notifications of approved visas. The water looked pristine in its aqua colors, but only observed by us during landing and takeoff. Oh, well. God must have had some reason he wanted us to “airport camp” for that layover.

I was prepared to be smacked in the face with overwhelming heat and humidity upon landing in Antananarivo, Madagascar. Just as I experienced landing in Monrovia, Liberia in 2008, the heat in that country felt like it had physical hands and oppressed me for my entire 8 month stay there. What a refreshing relief for my body to be met with a lovely breeze and cool air. Madagascar, being situated in the Indian Ocean, below the equator, means I have landed during their “spring” season and we are heading into summer. I am assured the heat will come, but for today, I am thankful for cooler weather. 

We made our way to the hotel Mercy Ships provided for us on the 24 hour layover before catching our 5th and final flight to the ship. Our driver zipped and weaved the very familiar, white, Mercy Ship’s Land Rover around corners, potholes, and people. We arrived at our lovely hotel and were given an allotment of money for meals in the hotel restaurant. Dustin and I lugged the luggage that had arrived --one bag was missing in action--into our hotel room, and ventured to the restaurant for a “real meal” versus the airplane food we had eaten for almost three days. Please note we were not ungrateful for the food we had on the airplane, when many in the world do not have food, just extra thankful to sit at a table to eat a meal. 

We perused the menu and I did my best to decipher the options. There was a mix between English and French words in the menu. Potentially a few Malagasy words mixed in, but I am not certain. We could have octopus ceviche and pickles, seafood pot pie, crispy goat cheese with cashew nuts, honey, and thyme sauce, roasted bone marrow with fleur de sel and grilled bread, the fish of the day, and a variety of other dishes. We turned the page and Dustin’s face lit up to find the page with pizza options. There was pizza with duck, seafood pizza, margherita pizza, options for pork or chicken ham. I laughed wondering what the heck chicken ham was. I don’t laugh out of disrespect; I just love the uniqueness of the world and seeing new things. Not so sure, this picky Kansas/Idaho girl likes to “taste” new things, but I am entertained with new things. There was an option for pickles on the pizza and then I giggled with glee to see Zebu as an option on the menu. Dustin settled for the meat pizza, without the zebu or duck, and asked to hold the pickles. I settled for the margherita pizza, keeping it safe with cheese and tomato sauce. 

I settled into bed extremely early and was thrilled to be comfortable with the temperature in the hotel room. I was not going to need to pull out some of my “missionary” tips and tricks to deal with the heat to finally be able to fall asleep.  I know the fastest way to beat jet leg is to stay awake until a “reasonable” bed time in the country you have landed in, to adjust to the time zone changes quicker, but I did not care. I needed bed!

At 3:30am, I was wide awake and my mind was singing loudly, “Cebu! (Cebu!) Cebu! (Cebu!) Achoo moo  moo, achoo moo moo, achoo moo moo, moo moo!”  Thanks Joel Stark, my youth pastor, when I was younger, for introducing us to “Veggie Tales” and therefore, the “Song of the Cebu”. The song came out in 1998 and here I am in 2025, singing it at 3:30am! So, what else would I do now at 4:00am in Madagascar, but use the hotel’s Wi-Fi to Google if a Zebu and a Cebu are the same thing. They sure are! A Zebu is a type of cow with a fatty hump found in Africa and Asia. I giggled again. 

Dustin had stayed up much longer than I had and was snoring away next to me. It was surreal to be back in Africa and not sweating to death! I thought of our lovely dinner and grabbed my leftover cheese pizza from across the room. Dustin stirred next to me wondering what I was doing. I was wide awake and stood up on the bed singing the Cebu song and ate some leftover pizza! I smiled ear to ear. I was excited to be on this new adventure and with my best friend, husband.

 

Wednesday, August 27, 2025

“Today is the day,” a dear friend of mine texted me early in the morning on August 27th. I texted her back and said, “Thank you! Thank you for praying! I don’t feel like going to Africa today.” She texted back, “That’s the best quote ever!”

I moaned. I wasn’t joking. It was daunting, exciting, terrifying, and terrific, all at the same time. I was REALLY in the car, on my way to the Boise, Idaho airport headed back to volunteer as a nurse with Mercy Ships. I was on my way to the Africa Mercy, the very ship I had lived on previously for 5 years. I was headed to the country of Madagascar!

I reflected on the fact that I was not 26 years old anymore, the age I was when I first ventured to Mercy Ships and served eight months in Monrovia, Liberia to “test” out the waters as a missionary nurse, before I sold everything I owned in New Hampshire and volunteered with Mercy Ships for five years. Things felt different. I am only 12 years older than when I was last in Africa, but for some reason my body does not tolerate trips around the world as much anymore.

I was dreading the four days of travel ahead:               

A two and half hour drive from Twin Falls, Idaho to the Boise airport…

Boise to Seattle, a one hour flight.

A five hour layover in Seattle…

Seattle to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, a 14 hour 40 minute flight... My mind wanted to panic at the thought of being trapped on an airplane that long. The longest I’d ever been on one plane before was a 15-16 hour flight to Australia.  

An eight hour layover in Dubai…My mind replayed too many negative cultural stereotypes about terrible things that could happen in that country, out of its proximity to “hot zones” in the world.

Dubai to the Seychelle Islands, a four hour and 35 minute flight…

An eight hour layover in the Seychelles.

Seychelle Islands to Antanarivo, the capital of Madagascar, a two hour and 45 minute flight..

A 24 hour layover in Antanarivo…

The last hour flight to Tamatave, Madagascar…

Then the FINAL 20 minute drive to the Indian Ocean where the ship is ported…

It was exhausting thinking about it.

I remembered how disoriented and sick I felt just traveling 24-36 hours between Liberia and the USA in 2008; Benin and the USA in 2009; Boliva/Chile in 2010 and the USA; London, England and the USA in 2010; Sierra Leone and the USA in 2011; Togo and the USA in 2012; Guinea and the USA in 2013; and finally the Republic of the Congo and the USA in 2013. Yet, at the same time, I was SO thankful for how LONG it took me to get “home” as it helped me somehow process a small portion of ALL I had seen and been through, versus my friends who landed in Europe after the 8-9 hour flights from Africa and had an hour train ride and they were home. But, how in the world, was I going to tolerate the trip ahead?

My parents graciously listened to me expressing my cacophony of emotions. I thanked them for not being cheeky and saying, “Well, you don’t have to go to Africa today; you won’t be there for 3 days anyway!”

I have always loved to travel and enjoyed every travel experience I have been gifted to have. Well, once I get there and my experiences with anxiety don’t get the better of me and after I complete the overwhelming job of packing. I am not a fan of packing. My soul was conflicted and disgusted with myself noting I couldn’t decide which pair of shoes to pack. “Geesh, Laura, I thought to myself,” remember those people you know by name in Africa, that don’t even own one pair of shoes.”

“Should I bring my orange, pink, teal, yellow, and black glasses frames? Oh, maybe the purple, too,” I contemplated.  “What the heck is your problem, Laura?” I said to myself. “Remember all the patients you cared for that have never had access to one eye doctor, or were once blind and now see because of groups like Mercy Ships?”

I tried on different skirts and shorts that were long enough for cultural sensitive standards where my “KNEE-ipples or KNEE-eavage” wasn’t going to show, pronounced just like nipples or cleavage, but replacing the “n” with the word “knee”.  The term we coined when in Africa years ago, noting sensitive areas of the body differ per culture. Breasts supply nutrition, so it was not uncommon to see topless women in the market, or town. Yet, the knees were sensitive areas and not to be shown.  I was frustrated that I have gained weight, thanks perimenopause, and a number of my clothing items don’t fit anymore. Yet, then I was reminded, what a gift it is to have clothing and more than one item of clothing to choose from. And to have food, in abundance. Then I was mad at myself and my entitled country for the diseases we have that are caused by obesity, yet at the same time discouraged at the despair and suffering many have related to diseases of poverty, starvation, and lack of access to clean water. No wonder I was already exhausted before starting the epic journey across the world to Madagascar. I already had whiplash, just trying to pack four suitcases.

My friends had asked, “Are you ready, are you excited for your trip?” I felt a little numb, it’s been hard to even formulate what emotions I was feeling or am feeling. It was “different” this time. Serving as a missionary nurse was all my heart beat for in the past. I felt incomplete if I was not in Africa. God had to heal me, take me deeper, and redefine my identity in Him, when I had left Africa and it appeared I would never go back. I have honestly been content, comfortable, and no longer pined for Africa. I was happily married, had fulfillment in my nursing jobs, and had found a place to serve God in my church. I didn’t NEED to go to Africa. Yet, God had opened the doors to take my sweet husband, Dustin, and me there. We were willing. We felt God was calling us to go. I don’t ever want to step where God has not directed. I don’t ever want to be content and, too, comfortable. So, sometimes that means going where you may not “want to” on a certain day or time. Yet, with God’s loving care and providential hand, he took us the extra LONG way to Africa. Those 3 days of travel before landing at our first location in Africa, sure gave me a different perspective. I may not have wanted to go to Africa on August 27^th, but by August 30^th when we landed in Africa I was sure READY to be there.  

The Beginning in the Middle

The Beginning in the Middle

It is hard to decide when my story actually began and considering, I have just celebrated my 41st birthday; I know my story did not just begin. I have contemplated and pondered writing my story for many years. Friends and family have encouraged me to write a book.  I do not know if what I am writing will turn into a book, or how much I will write, but we are starting from where I am today.  It is almost exactly 15 years since I stepped onto the warm soil of the African continent to serve with Mercy Ships, in Monrovia, Liberia. I have walked many miles in the past week; miles down memory lane. I have let myself relive sights, sounds, passions, pleasures, and pain, from some of the best years of my life in Africa, onboard the Africa Mercy, working for free and paying to work as a volunteer nurse.

I believe God is a good God and working all things together for me because I love him” (Romans 8:28) and I am fully aware in my heart I plan my course, but the Lord directs my steps (Proverbs 16:9). So it is hard to pinpoint where my “story” actually starts. God is the author and my story has had some great plot twists. But, to not get stuck on technicalities and in the interest of time, I will quit trying to determine when my story started and just start the beginning in the middle.

                                                                                                                              June 24, 201

                                                                                                                        Email file from 1156 hrs

 

JoJo and Ashley,

Hello! Great to hear from you! Thanks for your interest in Mercy Ships and for thinking about featuring a number of us TWU nursing grads in an article. Awesome! So sorry for my delay in writing responses to your questions... I will do my best to answer the questions you asked- without writing a book. J I will also throw in a few details you may care to know or not know…J I may have trouble getting the exact type of photo you requested because I am currently off the ship-working at a mission hospital in the bush- and will be here for the next 2 months- until I return to the ship again in August. I can send you a few of the best photos I have- hopefully one of them works. Sorry, most of them have patients in them- because I don’t often pose for photos by myself.

1. What made you decide to serve with Mercy Ships?

I don’t even recall how I first learned of Mercy Ships- but I first applied to work with Mercy Ships in 2008. But my call to missions started when I was about 10 years old. I was listening to some missionaries speak at church- I heard their accounts of interactions with people in foreign lands, I saw photo after photo of the needy, hurting, poor, desolate, and broken. I heard tales of how God had transformed the lives of people in remote tribal villages. I heard the missionaries speak about the rustic environment they lived in, where there was no running water, no air conditioner, bugs so big they had lips, no cars, extremely hot weather, and no hospitals, or official roads. As the missionaries showed more photos from their time overseas, a song played over the church sound system. The lyrics to the song described the life of a Christian who was comfortable with his current life situation; he didn’t want to leave his home and his life of luxury. In the song the man begged God to let him stay where he was. Over and over he said, “Please don’t send me to Africa… I don’t have what it takes; I don’t care much for gorillas or snakes… Please don’t send me to Africa where the natives are restless at night…” The words of that song echoed loudly in my mind, I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly, but that song did something to me. I contemplated, how horrible it was to have to do things I didn’t want to do. I thought. “I hate being told what to do; I don’t want to be like the man from that song. So I flippantly said, “God, you won’t make me go to Africa…I don’t want to be like the man in the song, I will be willing to go.” I thought I would be smarter than God….:) But that is when God started moving in my heart to go overseas.

Throughout the years, I heard many missionaries speak; saw their pictures and slideshows. I browsed through their information booths with intrigue. My family hosted missionary families for weekends in our home. The concept of missions was always in my face, but I didn’t mind it at all, there was actually a tender place in my heart toward missions. Every time the topic of missions arose in conversation, I would perk up and remember the “Africa song” I heard years before and I thought about the flippant commitment I had made to go to the foreign mission field. Somehow that glib commitment I had made earlier was turning into a real commitment, one I was developing a growing passion for.

Soon my greatest fear was what if God asked me to stay- to stay in Canada or America…and he didn’t let me go overseas…I surrendered my life to God either way. I enrolled in nursing- knowing that even if foreign countries wouldn’t let “missionaries” in-they would almost always let health care workers in…I thought in that manner- I could be a nurse- missionary-under-cover- taking care of the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs of my patients…After graduating from TWU in 2005 I started seeking out mission organizations that were looking for nurses. I happened upon Mercy Ships and was very attracted to the organization because they required a minimum of two year experience as a nurse, so I didn’t have to stay in North America too long- I could go overseas very soon. Mercy Ships’ motto is “following the 2000 year old model of Jesus Christ, to bring hope and healing to the world’s forgotten poor” echoed my heart’s desire and passion; to provide holistic medical care- and offer eternal hope at the same time. In 2008, I was accepted to serve for 8 months with Mercy Ships (my test period to see if I loved the work or not)..I love it! I am now in my 5^th year of service with Mercy Ships! (Random info if you want to know more… I served with Mercy Ships in Liberia 2008 as a ward nurse, Benin 2009 as a Charge Nurse & Team Leader-Nurse Manager for VVF (Vesico-Vaginal Fistula Patients), then took a break in 2010 to study tropical diseases in London, England, and joined back up with the ship in Sierra Leone 2011 as Orthopedic, Plastic Surgery Nurse Manager/Team Leader, Assistant Ward Supervisor& interim Ward Supervisor. In Togo 2012 I was a Ward Nurse Clinical Educator & Assistant Screening Coordinator-Triage Nurse. I served on land as the Advance Medical/Hospital Liaison spring/summer 2012. In Guinea 2012-2013 I took the role of Screening Coordinator- Head Triage Nurse- this is the position I remain in… We are next headed to Congo- Brazzaville!)

2. Why is the work you're doing significant to you? The work I am doing is significant to me because I get to see lives changed daily, not only physically, but eternally, and that is what really matters. Mercy Ships provides the perfect platform to deliver tangible hope and share eternal hope at the same time- to those who would be interested. We don’t take advantage of the vulnerable state of our patients- but it is so awesome to be able to tell my patients I am there- working for free & paying to work- because there is a God who loves them and has not forgotten them. And there is nothing like seeing the mama of a cleft lip baby- smile and kiss her baby when he returns from the OR- knowing she has been given life back- she will be able to return to her village- showing her baby wasn’t actually cursed..Or seeing a patient that had a football sized facial tumor removed look in the mirror for the first time…

3. How has this experience impacted you? This experience has changed my life! I am happily, forever ruined for the normal. I don’t know how I would ever return to North America to nurse again. There is something so amazing about working with nurses from over 36 different countries, hanging our IV bags by magnets on the ceiling, asking the German nurse on shift with you to confirm the medicine you are giving because the label is only in German because that is where the meds were donated from. Where else can you tie a baby on your back during your shift with African colored cloth and carry on with your work of taking vital signs and doing assessments. We put stickers and scripture verses on each other’s report sheets, dance and sing with our patients, sometimes have to use 5 people to translate one message to our patients, and make our own enema bags when none our available. I don’t plan on leaving mission nursing any time soon.

 

4. What is one life lesson you find yourself learning? After a few short weeks aboard the ship- I learned or was reminded once again- that God is the true author and giver of life and death. Although the ship delivers first-world medicine in impoverished areas and we have the great benefits of a lab, x-ray, CT Scan, 6 operating rooms, a well supplied pharmacy, excellent surgeons and doctors from around the world, we don’t have all the tests, equipment, and accessibility to ALL the materials and interventions we have in North America…I found myself- saying-, “if only we had this…if only we could call this doctor…or we could give this medicine for weeks”… thinking we could save more people….but in reality- in North America- we are no more in control of life and death than anywhere else in the world- we just fool ourselves into thinking we are because we can prolong life longer- or try 5 different medications, or change treatment régimes, we don’t run out of options fast…all our efforts make us “feel” better- like we are doing something…and we are- but overall- I have been learning over and over- that we do the best we can- love fully- use all the medical knowledge we have- but the Lord gives and the Lord takes away- & I praise his name.

5. Any advice for current nursing students or recent grads? To all current TWU nursing students- Keep up the great work! Push through those long hours of lab and classes! The opportunities of where your nursing can take you are endless! Once you become a nurse- you can go anywhere and do anything- even if you don’t speak the local languages- it doesn’t matter- you are nurse- and the love & care you can give- will break all language barriers world-wide! Dream big! And go get your dreams!

God Bless,

Laura Ziulkowski RN BSN

 

And that’s the beginning from the middle…

 

 

 

 

Pray for Brazzaville Screening Day

*Safe travel & general safety at the selection site- (A group of Mercy Shippers & I are headed out the door in a few minutes for a plane ride to Brazzaville- the capital of the country we are currently in- for a screening/patient selection day tomorrow)...The crowd at our main selection day here in Pointe Noire, a few months ago was estimated to be 6000 plus people...It is predicted the crowd in the capital city could be larger. Much preparation and planning has gone into preparing for this day- and we seek extra prayers for safety of the patients seeking treatment and ourselves...

*Excellent communication, understanding, & harmony between Mercy Ships’ team, government officials, patients, and translators...

*Good weather, sufficient water & food for team (it is rainy season, VERY HOT, & VERY sticky)...

*Quiet, orderly gathering of potential patients (that our potential patients would be patient)...

*Only referred, ticketed patients would seek screening (to limit crowd size we have changed logistics for this selection day and pray all goes well- that those we truly can help will make it to us & those that we cannot help- would not come)...

*Good traffic management of people, vehicles, & materials (that the local taxis we are arranging for transportation would be on time- running well, and all that)...

*God would guide choice of patients for surgery (we focus on those we can help, but as always there are those we cannot help- my team and I are responsible for the  glorious deliverance of the word “YES” for hundreds, but also pray for strength & grace as we cannot help everyone)...

THANKS FOR PRAYING!  

 

waffle fridays

I love Fridays not merely because-they usher in the weekend, but because Fridays hold one of my favorite Mercy Ships’ traditions…Waffle Friday! To serve 300 plus crew breakfasts of warm, mouthwatering, Belgium waffles, would be a rather time consuming job for our galley staff. So we settle for cereal and other breakfast items on a regular basis- which s no problem...we are by no means suffering or starving here... But, Mercy Ships’ Starbucks café serves piping, hot ,Belgium waffles, Fridays for a mere .75 cents! I hate to admit it, but yes, over the past .4 & 1/2 years of my life on the Mercy Ship I have splurged and made Waffle Friday- my Friday breakfast tradition.

When our Starbucks café opens at 0900 hrs there is always a line-we all want to be the first to get a waffle (greedy, gluttonous, missionaries we are)… See the photo of my friend Melinda and me waiting patiently for our “waffle numbers” to be called which means our tasty treats are ready…Thanks to someone at home- I have my own supply of Vermont Maple Syrup to eat with my scrumptious waffle! If I ever leave this floating home of mine, I believe I will forever make “Waffle Friday” a tradition. Why not make it a tradition of your own and you can add in an extra prayer for the patients  & crew aboard Mercy Ships when you enjoy your treat…Bon appétit!

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.  

14 symbols that changed his life

I stepped off the airplane after traveling for more than two days and even though I was slightly exhausted from the travel which had taken me from Idaho to Utah by car, Utah to Chicago by plane, Chicago to Boston by plane, Boston to Frankfurt of course by plane, Frankfurt to Libreville, Gabon by a huge plane, and from Libreville, Gabon to Pointe Noire, Congo by another plane, I had a spring in my step as my heart subconsciously leaps and smiles every time my feet hit the African continent.

I passed through immigration without difficulty, showed proof of my yellow fever vaccine to the health authority, gathered my luggage, and rushed out to meet the Mercy Ships’ Land Rover that I knew would be waiting for me. I was greeted by two fellow crew mates who said, “Oh- good- Laura is here…we are so glad you are here- we have a patient for you!” I chuckled as I thought they were playing a joke on me-giving me work the moment I got off the plane… ignoring what they said, I asked where the land rovers were parked as I was looking forward to getting to the ship and enjoying a 4 minute shower (normally we are allowed only 2 minute showers, but I thought I could cheat because I hadn’t used the last 2 months worth of my 2 minute showers)….The two crew mates repeated what they has said before, “we have a patient for you.” In disbelief I still questioned my crew mates, “really, there is a patient here?” I don’t know why I thought it so impossible, but honestly the ship had just sailed in 3 days prior to my arrival and I was part of the second group flying into the country. I didn’t think enough time had passed for the African bush telegraph (what we call the manner in which news spreads in Africa which is amazing-despite the general lack of passable roads, modern technology, electricity, and such, news does travel rapidly and across 1000s of miles) to spread the word that Mercy Ships personnel are at the airport each night.  Either way, my crew mates were not joking, there was a patient looking for help from Mercy Ships and seeing how I am on the triage team of Mercy Ships’ nurses that say “yes” & “no” to patients, I was the woman for the job.

Upon exiting the airport, it was not hard to spot him; he had a giant grapefruit sized tumor jutting out of the right side of his face. I approached him and learned he wasn’t too many years my senior and had been plagued with his tumor for the last 12 years. He told me his diagnosis and with remorse reported there were simply no doctors in his country that could successfully complete his operation so he had to look for help elsewhere.  He learned about Mercy Ships on the internet and had tried to connect with us when we were in Guinea- but realized our surgical spaces were all full by the time he contacted us. He wouldn’t let the same happen to him again.  He had traveled roughly 1,801 miles from his home country of Nigeria to seek help. He had heard Mercy Ships was in Brazzaville so he flew there in faith that he would connect with us.  Upon reaching the Congo, he searched for someone he could communicate with, because he doesn’t speak French, and learned the ship was not in Brazzaville- but about 348 miles away in Pointe Noire. He then boarded another plane from Brazzaville to Pointe Noire and “happened” to fly into Pointe Noire, Congo the exact same evening I flew in.

Considering the hospital was not yet ready for patients (because the ship had just sailed in and we literally have to pack- and up-pack the hospital every time the ship moves) we found somewhere for him to stay, took his contact information, and promised to contact him the next day to arrange for his lodging, medical assessment, and care.  A few days later- he received a CT scan, a surgical assessment by Mercy Ships’ amazing maxillo-facial surgeon, his diagnosis was confirmed, and my team and I had the privilege of writing 14 symbols on his patient ID badge that changed his life…A-d-m-i-s-s-i-o-n …S-e-p-t  4… I LOVE my job & love being back in Africa!

healing never thought possible has come- HIS hand of mercy be upon those we are unable to help...

...6000 plus people lined the streets outside where Mercy Ships screened/selected patients on August 28th..
Healing never thought possible has come to many- to God be the glory!
His hand of mercy & grace be upon those we are unable to help...

Although you cannot see me in this photo- I was standing to the left of the line
on the platform and was one of the triage nurses telling patients yes- we could help them
or no- regretfully, we don't have doctors to meet their need...
We believe 4236 actual patients were triaged by our nursing team-
the others in the line were the patients family members and friends.
THANKS FOR THE PRAYERS

T'was the night before Screening Day...

T’was the night before Screening day and all through the ship the Screening Team and crew members were running around going zip… zip…

The site was selected and transformed from a simple high school forlorn to a place where tomorrow love will be unleashed like a torrential storm…

We’ve made our lists and we’ve more than checked them twice…Security’s on site for the night and we’ve confessed to God that he alone is our strength and our might…

The patients will come from near and far…we expect to see thousands and hope all who meet us will feel like super-stars…

Their tumors will be huge, their legs will be bent, but no matter their condition we give all our time and know it will be well spent…

Experience says the lines are forming and it is still hours before morning…And I will soon be snoring...

They wait with expectations…and tomorrow Mercy Ships will deliver God’s hope to this Congolese Nation…

Pray...Pray...Pray...Cause tis' the night before Screening Day!!!