From Ship to Shore

I’m not really sure what I should be feeling right now. After arriving to the ship at the end of January and jumping into work as Maxfax team leader, I felt like I was running a 4 1/2 month marathon. Then when we were 2 days away from closing the hospital, unforeseen circumstances caused us to extend the closing by 3 days. Oh how I wanted to cry from fatigue! But we managed with nurses offering to work and the other team leaders kindly took the extra days on-call so I didn’t have to. Then on Monday just gone, we finally discharged the last patients and we sighed a massive sigh of relief. The nurses blitzed the hospital cleaning, packing and tying down while I finished projects I had been working on and tied up loose ends for the next team leader. Before I knew it, Friday morning was here, I said a lot of goodbyes and I hopped on a plane to Togo. (The most expensive flight I’ve ever been on but it was direct and uncomplicated which I appreciate.) Now I’m sitting at a beach-side hotel restaurant in Lomé, Togo listening to Kenny G on repeat and drinking Nescafé coffee (not my favourite but it’s the only option). So, in the next few days comes the big gear shift to remote African living.

Yesterday I was met at the Lomé airport by my friend Miriam who I lived on the ship with me for almost 3 years a few years ago. She’s a pharmacist and has worked at the Hospital of Hope in Mango now for 3 1/2 years. She took the 8 hour night bus journey from Mango to Lomé with another missionary Susie, in order to pick me up and shop for supplies in the bigger stores. The shopping list has things like 10 boxes of Honey Puffs, 20L of soy milk, pancake syrup and a cross trainer exercise machine to name a few. She only comes to Lomé about every 6 months on average so it’s sort of shop until you drop and get a taxi not a motorbike back to the beach hotel. 

I only have the rest of this day and the 9hr taxi ride tomorrow to shift my mind to the 2 months of hospital nursing and village life ahead of me and to process the 4 1/2 months of working and living life on the AFM with Mercy Ships. I know it will take longer than the next 36hrs but I have to start somewhere.

The night before I left the ship the communications team gave us access to some photos from the previous month, a time when my ward was full of one year old cleft lip or palate repairs. The first few days were miserable for them and there was so much crying but by 4-5 days post-op their pain had decreased and they were smiling and happy. One little one named Oslima showed her joy by sticking her little tongue out all the time. We all poured out so much love on these babies and their mamas. What a special time.

 

There was also a woman on the ward we called Mama Sabine. She is such a special woman who loved on each of us as if we were her grandchild. Someone asked her if she was looking forward to going home after her surgery. She said, “This place is just an extension of my home.” When I went to greet her each morning she’d give me a big hug and kiss on the cheek and tell me how her night was and ask me how I was. We all adored her.

 

Another patient who was with us to the end was Lawrence. He had a bit of a hard trot with delayed wound healing and several returns to the OR which caused him to be quite downcast on the ward but by the last few days of his stay he was happier and doing well.

I wish it was easier to know how my patients do after they leave from our hospital and the ship sails away. So often I think the same as Mama Sabine said as she walked out and down the hospital hallway towards the stairs to the gangway, “See you in heaven!” What a party it will be to see each other again.
 

I leave the ship knowing I will return in the next while but waiting for God’s direction. In the meantime I follow the steps laid out in front of me, knowing a hospital on land will stretch me in different directions than the ship did but I’m looking forward to a different way of life and sharing the journey with you.

Right Now

I would have thought in the past four years on the ship that I’d eaten enough boiled eggs to last me a lifetime, but when I woke up from my night shift today, it was the best snack I could think of to eat. Perhaps that’s my body’s way of telling me I’m ready to return!

Within the next week Mercy Ships will reveal the new country that my home, the Africa Mercy, will set sail to in the coming weeks. I can’t wait until it's revealed!

In the last couple of days spring has truly arrived to South East Queensland. That means I can actually wear a t-shirt outside sitting in the shade and still be warm! Those of you like me who don’t love winter will know the joy that this truly brings! I’m currently sitting on our porch swing, surrounded by a light, cool breeze, hearing the birds tweet in the trees and the leaves rustle (ok, and now the digger up the road making obnoxious noises). As the weather slowly changes a large part of me wants to stay and enjoy an Aussie spring and summer. It’s been four years since I’ve been somewhere for spring.

These weeks at home have flown by. There has been plenty of action in my life with a friend having an early baby, who is gorgeous and healthy. He is delightfully cute! By the end of the week I will have worked 35hrs in the kid’s ward, which has certainly kept me out of mischief this week. In the weeks gone I’ve also managed to squeeze in a little travel to Adelaide for a Louden girls wedding prep weekend, a trip to the beautiful Sunshine Coast with lovely Mercy Ships girls and even a flight to Sydney from Toowoomba! It was the most delightful experience flying out of my home town instead of driving two hours to the airport. There I visited more dear ship friends.

Windy day on Sydney Harbour

My sister’s wedding is only 14 days away and still plenty of organising to do (and wedding dress sewing for the busy bride!) Life has gotten so busy with all these things that my mind is focused more on being home than anything else. When I got an email from HR on the ship about details for my return, I looked at dates and counted the weeks until I might fly back to my ship home, my heart jumped a little, feeling like I was leaving all too soon. I guess I’m adaptable these days, to settle into the place to call home, wherever that may be. So much has changed on the ship since my departure back in May that I feel somewhat anxious at returning to my home. The other part of me can’t wait to be back in Africa, making a difference to lives who need a little more loving. My heart still aches for West Africa struggling through the Ebola Virus Disease. I hate sitting back and watching that unfold, seemly helpless to make a difference. I know those countries. I know the streets, the town names, the people. I know their fragile healthcare systems. The articles reporting on Ebola are not positive, but as I pray for the people, I know there are stories of survival. The latest BBC article I read from yesterday said that 55% of people with Ebola were dying. So 45% of people who’ve been infected with Ebola have survival stories. I wish I could hear them. Part of me desperately wants to join the aid teams over there, to make a difference wherever possible. For now I will wait and see where God leads me.

Right now in front of me I have family and friends, visits and catch ups, sunshine and t-shirts, coffee and good food.

 sigh. Look at that sweet face.

Siara

So often you will find me in the ward cuddling a baby. No surprise right? These babies most often have a cleft lip and often a cleft palate too. The prevalence of clefts in these countries is the same as Western countries, it is just that they haven’t had the same access to medical care that we have, so we get to see them on board the Africa Mercy. Our surgeon, Dr Gary, has done thousands of cleft repairs over the years and is very good at them. Often if we have a child return later for a cleft palate repair months after a cleft lip repair has healed, the untrained eye would never notice the scar left behind.

 

A couple of months ago I met baby Siara who’s now 15 months old. Siara had a cleft lip and palate and weighed in at just 5.0kg (11lbs). She and her papa, pregnant mama and three siblings had travelled from Central African Republic to a refugee camp in Congo to seek refuge from the war. Somehow Siara’s papa had heard about a Mercy Ships interior screening day and left his family behind, bringing Siara with him to meet our screening team. Siara and her papa received a patient card as a promise for surgery, but before Siara would be able to have surgery she had to gain some weight.

 

I met her when I walked into the ward early one Saturday morning. She was sitting up in bed with her papa, crying. I walked over to her, the lights in the ward still off, as the day had barely begun, and I picked her up out of the bed to calm her feeble cries. She was light in my arms, barely weight at all. The effect of malnutrition on her body, not only made her small but her hair was slightly orange and patchy, instead of black with tight curls. Her skin was also blotchy and pale in places. She had wide, dark eyes, alert and moving with such purposeful movements, surprising for a baby of her small size. She could sit up on her own, but there was no movement to crawl, let alone walk. There were no smiles coming from her serious little round face. Even so, she was gorgeous and captured my heart.

Each nurse loved on her and her papa during her little stay for a chest infection and after she was discharged I heard about her progress from my friends Mirjam and Jasmin on the Screening Team, who were following her and making sure she was putting weight on.

This past week little Siara, who’d gained a whopping 2kgs, was able to have surgery to repair both her cleft lip and cleft palate. Post op, her little body struggled to get enough breath, until our team decided to put her back on the ventilator for a couple of days. I worked one of these days, in charge of the ward and ICU, so popping in and out helping the nurse who was looking after her. Her papa asked for some photos to be taken and I was quite willing to document this gorgeous little one, clefts all repaired, sleeping peacefully, recovering on the ventilator until she was strong enough to do it on her own.

 

 

During the following night, Siara decided she’d had enough of the ventilator and managed to remove her tube herself, but without any medical emergencies she breathed well on her own, not needing extra support. That afternoon she was moved back into a bed with her papa in the ward and sat up in her bed happily putting handfuls of soft food in her mouth.

 

Today, five days  after her surgery, she had her nasal bolster (helps the nose heal in the right shape) and whiteheads pack (helps the palate heal) removed. That made her one step closer to discharge!

I blew bubbles for her today. She sat there, enchanted as she watched the bubbles float down to the bed and pop. Because of the malnutrition her growth and development has been severely delayed, so I marvelled like a new mum, as I watched her follow the bubbles floating through the air and reach out her hands to catch them, most often moving way too slowly (but then I cheered every time she caught them and she’d always look up at me in surprise). After a while I put the bubbles back in my pocket. She watched me and knew where the bubbles sat, she stared at my pocket. So I pulled them back out and held them up in front of her. She waved her hand, at me,  signalling, come on blow them! Who could resist that? Not me who’s in love with every baby that sets foot in this place! So I put the bubble blower to her face, she didn’t know how to blow, like every other toddler who’s wanted a go, but she moved her head forward like she was trying. It was so gorgeous! We did it over and over and her papa lay on the same bed, smiling from ear to ear when she tried blowing bubbles and when she caught the bubbles that I blew for her.

 

 

Sweet baby girl! I can’t wait to see you smile! I wish I could see you grow up and develop into a beautiful little girl, teenager and then woman. I wish I could see who you will become! I wish I could see the look on your mama’s face when she sees you fat and your lip all stitched together and healed. You are beautiful baby girl! God has beautiful plans for you and even though you won’t remember the time you spent on this ship, I will remember you forever and pray for you as you grow up!

 

Soaking in Every Moment

I think I’ve said it many times, but I love to stand back and watch life happening before me, whether it is the patients in the wards interacting together or the kids on the ship playing or simple interactions between friends. There are always moments to savour, sweet little pockets of joy. I usually can’t help but tell the nearest person (most often a nurse), “Look!” and point towards the action. It is so hard to capture these moments, particularly when at work since I don’t have my camera on the wards very often, but I have caught a few.

This is what we do all day- love, love, love.

Old friend and a new friend

Squish your nose kisses

Spying love through the window

Smiling faces full of straight, white baby teeth

 “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more.” Melody Beattie

How beautiful does Natacha look now? She was My One from screening day

Chubby baby toes

Making my patient and her mama laugh by crawling into the mama's bed

Soothing a crying baby

“Abundance is not something we aquire. It is something we tune into.” Wayne Dyer

 

A smile breaks all language barriers

Squinty eye smiles

Peek-a-boo!

“That which God said to the rose, and caused it laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful.” Rumi

Pedicures by a 5 year old

Being invited into a home and seeing love in action

Innocence

Letting a 7 year old do my makeup

Watching children learn and grow

Silhouettes

What are some of your sweet moments?

How could you not love him?

I looked after this little patient a couple of weeks ago after his meningocele was fixed. A meningocele is the protrusion of the meninges of the brain or spinal cord through a defect in the skull or spinal column. We see a few meningocele or encephalocele (where the brain also protrudes) cases in babies or children every outreach but our CMO Dr Gary has never seen an adult with an encephalocele because he thinks they are not able to live that long with the defect.

After a few very tricky cases in the hospital here, involving repairing defects near the brain involving possible cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) leaks, I'm always very hesitant to look forward to being involved, mostly because I lack the experience and knowledge and also because the meninges is very slow to heal and unlike a wound leaking blood, the meninges doesn't quickly stop leaking CSF. It takes time and is very risky, for infections like meningitis can be deadly.

I fell in love with this little guy pretty quickly and you'll see why!!! I would walk over to his mother, put my hands out to him and pick him up, no fuss from him. His little body was only about 5.6kg at 4 months old. I would lift him up and kiss his face and be rewarded by a great big smile. Sometimes I would just smile at him from across the room and call his name and see his whole face turn into one enormous smile. How could you not love him?

In the photos here, he is still very swollen, but in the days following the swelling went down so nicely he has now gone home!

I love that gummy grin!

I am so happy for this little friend of mine. His life has been changed and hopefully saved- we can only pray for the rest of the dangers of life!

"You turned my wailing into dancing,

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.

O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever."

Psalm 30:11-12