Beautiful...Pretty....Miracle Baby

The African mama walked down the hallway holding a tiny bundle of beautiful, vibrant colored, fabric in her hands. Although the bundle was small, I knew a precious coffee colored baby lay beneath the layers of fabric. I walked toward the pair with a smile on my face. I stopped and greeted the mama with my broken French. I pointed toward the baby in her arms. She slowly pulled aside the fabric blanket, with a cautious spirit, so I could see half of the infant’s face. The baby was tiny, but absolutely beautiful. I leaned over and gently kissed the babe on the forehead. In my pathetic French I said, “Beautiful, pretty” and pointed toward the child. I know the mother understood me, but with forlorn eyes she shook her head disagreeing with my statement. The mother adjusted the baby’s blanket and I caught a glimpse of the left side of the baby’s face. There was a huge, lumpy, nodular, mass protruding from the side of the infant’s face. The mass was almost bigger than the baby’s entire head. Without changing my facial expression, I leaned over, kissed the baby once more, smiled at the mother, and let the pair continue down the hallway. We found out her name was Maomi, she was three months old and weighed a mere five and a half pounds. She was incredibly malnourished and hanging onto life with everything in her. She was a fighter! All we wanted was to fight with her and for her, but reality screamed that she was so malnourished and small that she may never survive an operation. But if we didn’t operate, Maomi would surely die. Mercy Ships prides itself in bringing hope and healing to the forgotten poor, but what do we do for this baby? If death steals Maomi’s life away on the operating table… what then??? When death occurs, it doesn’t alter the fact that God is still on His throne, but it sure is hard to handle… We wished for nothing more than health and a full life for Maomi, but what do we do as mere humans???? Maomi’s tumor was so big and she was so tiny. We weren’t certain, but it appeared the tumor was wrapped around Maomi’s jaw bone and intertwined with her carotid artery; the largest artery in the body. If we opened the tumor, but cut the carotid artery Maomi would quickly bleed to death. What to do??? Maomi needed a miracle. We prayed and asked God for wisdom and if we were to be part of Maomi’s miracle… The decision was made to operate. We asked God for his grace and guidance to be upon Maomi’s life. The surgery was long and stressful, but Maomi pulled through. Through God’s miraculous strength, our incredibly skilled surgeons were able to separate and remove the tumor from around the carotid artery and jaw bone. Maomi spent a number of days in the ICU, but finally made her way to the ward. She struggled learning how to suck again and wasn’t getting enough nutrition or gaining enough weight, so we put a feeding tube in her stomach. Finally, our prayers were answered and baby Maomi started gaining weight. Her previously gaunt looking little cheeks were getting cute and plump. She learned how to take a bottle and the feeding tube wasn’t needed anymore! After a few months it was determined Maomi was strong enough to go home. There is a chance Maomi’s tumor can come back, but we pray against that. Ever few days I see Maomi and her mama returning to the ship for Maomi's weight checks. Maomi appears to be doing well. She really is a fighter! Maomi’s mother no longer hides her beneath layers of fabric. When I greet the duo in the hallway, Mama hugs me and puts her precious daughter into my hands so I can kiss her cute little cheeks. I marvel at the miracle that has happened in Maomi’s life. There is so much I want to say to Maomi’s mother but all I say is, “beautiful, pretty” as I kiss Maomi’s forehead and this time when I look up at Maomi’s mother, she is smiling!

A Walking Blood Bank

The sirens were screaming and wailing as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the emergency room doors. A team of doctors and nurses greeted the paramedics and quickly wheeled the injured patient inside the hospital. The paramedics shouted, “We have an unconscious male, mid-thirties, high-speed MVA, ETOH involved, current BP 60/32, pulse 140, resps 42, 02 Sat 99% on 100% non-rebreather, Temp 36. Right AC line in, fluids wide open! Known injuries sustained to abdomen, right arm, and bilateral lower extremities. Internal bleeding suspected, query spleen laceration.” Without delay, one of the ER doctors said, “Get routine labs, we will need an X-Ray & CT Scan, and call the blood bank! This patient needs blood STAT!” Blood transfusions are a common need after traumatic accidents and injuries. In the United States and Western World, most of our hospitals are fully equipped with blood banks and those of us blessed to live there do not have to worry about blood being available if we ever need a blood transfusion. But, what do you do when your hospital is a floating ship in Africa? The hospital on board the Africa Mercy is absolutely amazing and has an incredible laboratory, but the equipment needed to store blood and run a blood bank is extremely expensive and complex and we do not have the luxury or capability to house such equipment in our small lab. Most of the patients we operate on do not require blood transfusions because their cases do not usually result in extreme blood loss and we take all precautions necessary to avoid the need for transfusions. With that being said, there are still the emergency surgical situations when it is a matter of live and death; one of our patients needs a blood transfusion. What then? Do we call the Red Cross or the local clinics and hospitals for blood? Nope, that is not an option. Conveniently and providentially, many of the crew on this ship are willing to give their all for the patients here and for them to know that God loves them. We have a “walking blood bank” of about 350 crew members! We are the blood bank! God has given many of us many talents and gifts and one of those gifts is health. So, here in Africa, on the ship, we have an option to share our health with our patients and give them our blood. As soon as I came to the ship I signed up to be a blood donor. Up to this point, my blood has not been needed, but just this past week I was sitting in my cabin and got a phone call from the hospital lab; they needed to match my blood type for a patient having surgery. I gladly rushed to the lab for them to perform the proper tests to see if my blood was compatible with our patient anticipating surgery. It was a match, praise God, because out of our “walking blood bank” only two of us had the blood type that this patient needed. If the surgery we are going to perform has the possibility of resulting in a huge blood loss, we match blood types before the operation to guarantee there will be blood available if needed. If no donors are available, sadly, surgery is postponed or cancelled. The same day that my blood was typed and crossed, I worked a night shift. I was reviewing charts in the middle of the night and looking at my patient’s lab work. I was making sure everything was in order for the operations scheduled the next day and there it was in my hands… The lab work in my very hands reported the patient’s blood had successfully been cross matched to a donor with AB+ blood… I paused… I was my patient’s blood donor match! What an awe inspiring, intense moment; I may have the chance to give my own patient, my blood… It is hard to describe all the emotions I felt in that moment. One thing I do know is I have AB+ blood and my very life belongs to God and in His name, I offer all I have.

What's In Your Cast?

Some of my favorite patients on the ship are our pediatric, orthopedic, patients. My little coffee colored babies are so cute lying in bed with their tiny legs casted and elevated on pillows. Their legs are so small and and I love the fact that after a few months, they will be able to walk straight for the first time in their lives. When the surgical pain passes most of the babies don’t want to lie in bed anymore so we let them crawl. I laugh and laugh watching them attempt to crawl around with huge, florescent colored, casts on their legs. They don’t get very far and most of them end up content to sit with a pile of toys around them. (Toys many of you have donated!) After a few days, the kids are ready to go home and we give them appointment cards to return to the ship after a few weeks for a cast change.

It is priceless to see them tied on their mama’s backs when they come in for cast changes. All you see is a beautiful African women walking toward you with two huge, casted feet sticking out on either side of her hips. The little kids are all smiles until they reach the cast change room, which is right next to my cabin. Thank goodness the wall separating us is a firewall, or I would hear screaming all day long. It isn’t that the cast changing process is painful, but it is scary when a saw is coming toward your legs and you cannot stop it! Two of my friends are on the orthopedic team and they do their best to comfort the kids during the cast changing process, but sometimes screaming is inevitable. Once the casts are sawed open the screaming stops and the mood in the room drastically changes. The fear is gone and the babies stop howling.

When we discharge orthopedic patients from the ward, we teach them how to take care of their casts. We give strict instructions in oral and picture form instructing our patients and their parents to keep the casts dry, to keep weight off the cast, to elevate their legs, and to come back to the ship if the cast breaks. We also tell our patients not to put their hands, or sticks inside the cast. If you have ever had a cast you know how itchy the skin under the cast gets and you will try almost anything to reach the itch. In the States, most people would never imagine putting a stick down their cast, but if you don’t have something flat like a ruler, a stick is the next best option! In Liberia I could almost guarantee most people didn’t have access to a ruler because most of them struggle finding food, shelter, and clothing for each day, but apparently people here have access to rulers because we found bits of one in a baby’s cast! Finding stuff inside a cast isn’t funny because having stuff inside our patient’s casts, next to their surgical wounds, can cause infection. But, it has almost become a game where we guess what we may find in the next cast we open! My friends have started to take photos documenting all the random stuff our little African babies stuff down their casts. We are not exactly sure how the stuff gets in there, but it is hilarious. To date, we have found sand, CFA (the local money), chalk, more sand, a piece of a ruler, more sand, a smashed bottle cap, live worms, and more sand. We never know what may wait lurking underneath the surface of our patient’s plaster casts.

I guess in the future, we are going to have to be a little more creative and specific when we discharge our orthopedic patients from the ward and we teach them about caring for their casts. But that is why I love my job! Never at home, would I ever have the chance to tell a patient take your pain medicine, see you in a few weeks, and “Oh, yah, make sure you don’t put money, sand, dirt, smashed bottle caps, or chalk in your cast!”

If you want to talk about rice, chocolate, or diapers, I am willing to chat with you!

I have been back in Africa for almost four months now and I thought I should let you know how my French is progressing. You will be proud of me. My vocabulary is expanding daily. I am not progressing as fast as I would if I actually lived off ship and was required to speak French to survive, but I am slowly working on acquiring some useful phrases in French. One of my favorite questions is “Did you poop today and was it big or small?” Although this phrase does not appear on the “Top Ten List of French Phrases to Learn,” it is very important to me as a nurse. It does become awkward in conversation though when someone greets me and says,” how are you?” I can say, “I am doing well thank-you and you?”, but then the conversation ends because my only real conversation piece revolves around body excretion. Actually, my French isn’t that terrible. I can also ask, “are you feeling pain, did you eat, did you swim, and did you pray?” I pick up random words here and there, but my vocabulary remains small. I am starting to understand the majority of conversations, because of my knowledge base of Spanish and the similarities of French and Spanish, but I struggle to actually say anything intelligent in French. I want to respond to questions, but it almost always comes out in Spanish. You can pray for my desire to learn French and motivation to work on it. I have been reluctant to really dive into French language study because I am afraid I will lose my Spanish if I start to learn French and I still have a deep love for the Spanish language and Latin people. I also am so busy; it is hard to devote my free time to study, when I need to relax. A poor attitude, I know… I am working on it! Despite my poor attitude, I am eager to use the French vocabulary that I have so, if you want to limit your conversations subjects and phrases to talking about chicken, fish, rice, fries, apples, bread, water, chocolate, beautiful things, gifts, diapers, see you later, good-evening, Mr. & Mrs., my friend, or the word for dry (which is very important when assessing my VVF patients), I am willing to have a chat with you. If you use any words other than those I just mentioned; we will have to stick to conversing in English or Spanish for now.

WHY NOT GET INTO A HAND-CARVED BOAT WITH AFRICANS THAT BARELY SPEAK ENGLISH?

The stress level was getting pretty intense all over the ship, so a few buddies of mine and I decided we needed some distance from the ship and it was time for a break. Most people would aim to hit a white-sandy-beach or rent a room at a five-star hotel with room service, but that isn’t really an option on a missionary budget, nor is it likely in Benin. After checking out our travel options, we hired a local taxi driver to take us to PASSOTOME, a little village about 2 hours from Cotonou. Our taxi driver arrived at our pick-up point on time, which was surprising and a great start to the weekend. Although we thought we had booked the car for just the three of us, our taxi driver, being a businessman, thought he should fill the car and sell all the “space” in the car, not just the spaces with seatbelts. He was lucky we had some thin passengers in our group and that we are flexible, in every sense of the word. The car ride was incredibly smooth. We picked a great taxi, the car had air conditioner, clean seats, space in the trunk ( and he didn’t carry extra gasoline in glass jars in the back of his trunk, like in Liberia), and he had a great taste in music, slightly out-dated, but all my favorite songs from high school! It was great getting to see more of the local countryside. I find pure joy in just observing the African culture. At one point we were stopped at a stoplight (an amazing invention, pretty much non-existent in Liberia, but quite common here; even more incredible when people obey the lights.) Anyway, I looked up and saw something moving in the back window of the car in front of me. I turned to my buddy and said, “What the heck is that?” Oh, yah, it was a goat. The cutest little goat was just chillin in the back of the taxi cab and was staring at me. I couldn’t help but laugh my head off. (I guess some goat therapy is just what the doctor ordered, my brother had some and now I got some too). You don’t see goats in the back of taxi cabs everyday! I turned my head away in another direction for a moment and when I looked back, I saw my little goat friend wasn’t alone, there were at least two other goats in the back of the car with him. Great times! We stayed at a very modest hotel in PASSOTOME on LAC AHEME. The main attraction at PASSOTOME is the lake itself. We had heard about the opportunity to join some local fisherman for a few hours out on the lake and despite my fear of water, I thought the idea sounded great. Why not get into an amazing, hand-carved, fishing boat, with my buddies and a few Africans that barely speak English? It was an incredibly hot day, so being out on the water was ideal. We had done some research and learned that LAC AHEME was supposedly parasite free and we could actually get in the water if we desired. I decided I would most certainly not touch the water, but I would ride in the boat. One of the first things I noticed on the water were random areas all over the lake that were closed off by rings of wooden poles sticking up about a yard above the water level. The fishermen explained that each village surrounding the lake had designated rings of wooden poles that belonged to them. Apparently, the villagers believe that the water inside of the ring is sacred and the “spirits of the water” reside there and it is forbidden to fish in that area. The worldview of these people is obviously very different from Western worldview. Saddening to me in many ways… The fisherman explained to us the lifestyle of local fisherman. They told us to observe the red areas on the water; those were the best fishing areas. I was sort of confused, I thought the water just looked absolutely filthy, manky, and polluted, I didn’t see any “red” areas. We rowed all over the lake and watched the fisherman cast his net and pull in load after load of tiny fish. I thought he would throw back the tiny fish and only keep big fish, but he kept all the fish and there weren’t any big fish to speak of. After an hour of watching him, the fisherman turned to us and said, “It’s your turn!” We each took turns casting the net. It is heavier than I expected and to throw it properly you have to stand on the edge of the boat. I was afraid I was going to throw the entire thing in the water, or I would go in with it. I was congratulated on my casting technique. I didn’t catch anything, but I was the only one out of my group of friends to actually have the net hit the water in the proper manner. I was proud of myself! The fisherman showed us another technique of catching fish. He cast the net into the water, tied one end of it to the boat, and then jumped in the dirty, cloudy, water. This mystified me. The fisherman dove under the surface of the water and a few minutes later, he came up with a handful of fish and threw them into the boat. Then he continued to dive again and again, bringing up handfuls of fish with each dive. Apparently, when only fishing with the net, some fish can escape as you pull it in. On the contrary, when the fisherman throws the net in, lets it sink to the bottom, then dives in and finds it under water with his hands; he can pull the fish out that would sneak out. With this technique he catches more. The entire process still confuses me and I want to know how he sees anything in that dirty water. The fisherman invited us in to swim with him and try his fishing technique. I thought, “Yah right!” But then the blazing sun’s intensity increased and in some freak moment of mental deterioration, I decided it would be great to cool off. And after a few deep breaths and a “self-pep-talk,” I slowly, lowered myself out of the boat and into the water! An act of faith, craziness, and an attempt to conquer more of my fears! Wow! The coolness of the water was refreshing but its consistency was slimy. Yuck! My fisherman friend swam over and started telling me how to dive under the water to catch the fish. I just laughed at him and smiled (there is no way on this planet that I was going to stick my head under that dirty water.) It was a big enough step for me to get into the dirty water; I wasn’t going to immerse my face and head in it. I did rally enough courage to hold one of the little fish he caught, but it scared me and made my insides squirm. I don’t like to eat cooked fish, or even smell it, let alone touch it when it is wiggling and squirming! The rest of the time I was in the water, I just kicked my feet around and held them close to my body so that nothing would nibble on them! The fisherman kept coming in and out of the water with handfuls of fish; I stayed in one place very close to the boat, treading water. The fisherman saw me kicking around a lot and said, “Can’t you touch?” He then showed me that although he was shorter than me, the water only came up to his chin. I knew this the entire time, but wasn’t brave enough to put my feet down onto the mushy, gooey, lake bottom. I am stubborn! After hours out on the lake, the fishermen were finally content with their catch of the day and they rowed us back to shore. Maybe the trip would have ended sooner if my buddies and I were any help in the process, but we didn’t catch anything. I guess I won’t be giving up my nursing job anytime soon! We thanked the fishermen for sharing their time with us and we went back to the hotel. I concluded my day of adventure with a cool shower and prayer that I won’t get any parasites from my day of conquering fears and exploring Africa!

Are You Being Fished???

Although it is obvious to many of you and has been for a number of years, there are many others who are just picking up on the fact that I am young, female, and single. How people have missed this fact until recently, I am not sure, but nonetheless, it is true. Apparently there are a number of men in Africa and on the ship that have totally noticed that I am single and that I am not a beauty queen but I don't look like a troll either. YIKES! My male friends on the ship, use the term "fishing" to describe relationships. Girls are "fish" and guys are "fishermen." Are you fishing? Or are you being fished? Are some of the questions I am asked frequently. Although I am so honored to be fished, it is complicated. It gets really confusing when some "fishermen" come from cultures where it is perfectly acceptable to throw a net and catch a few fish at a time. It is also complicated when these "fishermen" claim to live under Biblical standards, but they don't apply these standards in their "fishing-practice." Oh, my goodness, it is really burns my biscuit to find out that many "fishermen" here just view "fishing" as a sport! It intensifies the situation when the "fishermen" use a lot of flattery and are skilled at catching fish, but their intentions are impure. Yikes, what's a "fish" (girl) to do? Pray for my head and heart as "fishermen" cast their hooks in my direction. I ain't near ready to nibble on any hooks, but it is complicated when I just smile at a "fisherman" and then he thinks I am on his hook. Sometimes, I cannot walk down the hallway without getting tangled up in the mess of "fishing-hooks" being cast all over this ship. All this fishing mess makes me want to swim alone in my own pond (my cabin) and not come out, but I cannot do what God has called me to do from my cabin! Next time you think of this "fish," could you pray for some still, peaceful, waters. And pray for that poor "fisherman" that God may have for me in the future; his "fishing" process is going to be a lot harder because this "fish" has retreated to deep waters!

OUT MY FRONT DOOR

What do you see when you look out your front door? What do you see when you stare out your bedroom window? Well, I don't have a bedroom window and when I look out my front door (the gangway of the ship) I see the beautiful, Atlantic ocean speckled with huge ships coming to port. I also see tiny fishing boats bobbing up and down among the waves. If I stand in my driveway, I see the fishing village that is pictured here. It sure is great to live near such beautiful landscape!

The Top 10 Reasons I Haven't Written:

1. It is hot in Africa- when I get hot I don't want to do anything. 2. I got tired of running from all the men chasing me, I slowed down, let one catch me, and I have been spending all my time with him. 3. The Internet hasn't been working. 4. The ship sunk and my computer went down with it. 5. I ate too much local food and have been spending all my time in the bathroom. 6. I got stung by a huge bug and my fingers swelled so much it was impossible to write. 7. I decided to fast from the Internet 8. I have been working on creating this list of reasons I haven't written. 9. I am busy working on learning all of the 162 tribal languages in Benin and I've been busy trying to vacuum my cabin with a lint roller. 10. Okay, I have never really liked to complain, well, I change my mind, actually I do a good job at whining sometimes, but I always try to mix a little humor with everything. The truth behind why I haven't written is because I am having an incredibly difficult time. I guess it all started with working night shifts again and then the long stretch of 8 shifts in a row. The stress, the different culture, the intensity of the situations I face here, the lack of private space to relax in, and all that jazz has finally gotten to me. Add to that situation the fact that the doctor and I have been making some adjustments with medicines that I have taken since I was in 9th grade. The adjustment process did not go as well as hoped for. I have not been feeling like myself and I have been exceptionally sad and depressed lately. So, I guess I am saying I would appreciate your prayers. I know this too shall pass and God has taken me through a lot more in my life, but I wish this time of feeling less than my best would pass quickly. I said I wanted adventure in life and I've got it! When I am weak He is strong! I love all of you!

SO HUMAN

If any of you were every tempted to call me anything more than human, like a hero, or amazing; don't. I know some of you may want to call me an alien, but we can discuss that later. I am so human and this past week has reminded me of that in more ways than one. I am weary and worn out after my last stretch of shifts. Well, pure, extreme, total exhaustation might be a more accurate description of my current state of being. I had a few days off, which were a blessing, but I am back at it again. Today we had another VVF screening day. We had two new surgeons fly in last night and today we examined and took medical histories on 40 patients. Wow! We are starting another 6 weeks of VVF surgery. Therefore, I am back to balancing three roles again. Charge Nurse, VVF Co-Coordinator, and Ward Nurse. Please pray for my endurance, my roommates (I feel bad for them having to live with a frustrated, tired, stressed Laura), our patients, and my patience, strength, renewed passion, sweet restful sleep, and my relationships with crew. Pray that I may have patience with myself considering I get frustrated with my own human limitations. Oh, dear, just pray. I have so much more to say, stories to share, but what I really need is to sleep right now. I love all of you!

I AM TIRED

I am on my 7th shift in a row. Your prayers would be appreciated. I worked an evening shift as a ward nurse last Wednesday, evening Charge Nurse shifts Thursday and Friday, day shift Charge Nurse shifts Saturday and Sunday, yesterday I worked a day shift from 8:00-5:00pm as VVF Co-Coordinator and today and tomorrow I work evening Charge Nurse shifts. Wow, I am sorta feeling exhausted. Pray for my continued strength, patience, and endurance. I don't want my lack of energy to come across to the patients I am here to serve. I want my conversations to be flowing with grace and love, but when I am tired, that is harder! I am looking forward to a few days off starting Thursday, but Thursday seems so far away right now! Yikes! I love you all!