Keep Praying, Trinity!

Last Sunday, I had the opportunity to share Mercy Ships three times at church.  One of the stories I shared was about a 38 year old former Guinean National soccer player who is currently on the ward waiting for his quite larger tumor to be removed.  I asked those that were there to pray for him and found this (stole this?) on a nurse's blog . . . God is faithfully answering our prayers!

As a nurse you often have a special place in your heart for certain patients. Here actually it is most of them, but there are always some that really get to you. We have one particular patient on our ward at the moment who everyone is rallying behind and is much loved by all. He has a large tumour on one side of his face, and came to us a couple of weeks ago malnourished, unable to eat, barely managing to take some liquids and visibly weak on his feet. Initially we were unsure as to whether he could have surgery or not but after some tests and discussions with him we are ‘building him up’ for surgery hopefully next week. Slowly slowly he is putting on some weight and is now walking the four flights of stairs from deck 3 to deck 7 when we take the patients outside once a day. He has established a workout routine and the last 2 evenings has had me taking him for exercises down the corridor doing various squats and step-aerobics on the stairs. We sat down afterwards (so I could recover, he was doing fine) and he just held my hand as I talked in my poor French about his surgery next week. I asked him if he was afraid and he immediately shook his head no. He has such hope. I will be praying, praying, praying that he gets through this ok. It will be a complicated surgery because of his physical state to begin with but also because of the size and location of the tumour. There will be many of us waiting that day to see how he gets on.

One Week before Micah turns 13 . . .

Go down two flights of stairs on the Africa Mercy and you’ll find you’ve stepped out of a ship and into a busy buzzing hospital. On the wards you’ll find kids playing, patients visiting, and plenty of African music. Listen and you’ll hear conversations in English echoed by translators in French or one of Guinea’s three local languages – the chatter abounds like white noise.

 One would expect that a 13-year-old girl would be among the chattiest, but not Memouna.

Memouna’s pronounced facial tumor began above her left eyebrow, spilling down her face to the corner her mouth, displacing her left eye. This tumor, a neurofibroma Memouna has had since birth, left her looking like one side of her face was sliding off, like Dali’s famous melting clock in a desert. From behind the curtain of her deformity, Memouna saw the world with her good right eye. And to her despair, the world saw Memouna.

For 13 years she was taunted for her appearance. Moreover, superstitions run deep in West African culture and physical deformities are believed to be the sinister mark of someone cursed. Memouna was not only teased by peers; she was dismissed as something less than human. From the drooping facial tumor came the source of a broken spirit.

“She was not happy because in Africa people stay away from her. She would cry because she did not understand why no one liked her,” said Memouna’s 17-year-old sister Aminata, the oldest of her nine siblings.

On Wednesday September 26, 2012, Mercy Ships surgeons removed Memouna’s tumor. After her operation, even under layers of bandages, the transformation was profound. Memouna’s profile no longer appeared rough and misshapen; her face had been physically lifted from the weight of the tumor. Nurses hoped her spirits would follow, but countering years of social isolation is a much more invasive procedure.

 In the days after her surgery, quiet Memouna said nothing while her father and sister took turns staying at the hospital and speaking on her behalf. “I’m sorry, maybe she will talk another day,” her sister would say.

“It was a long time before I realized she spoke. She was so silent that I didn’t think she could,” said Lynne White, a Mercy Ships ward nurse. “But I can understand it, she went from spending her life keeping to herself with no friends and then she came here and was overwhelmed by the attention.”

- – -

On a night about a week after her surgery, Lynne came into the ward to find Memouna listening to headphones, nodding her head to music and mouthing the words. For the first time, Memouna seemed…happy.

“I couldn’t believe it, so I did whatever I could to try to get a laugh out of her – I started dancing!” Lynne said. “Memouna, oh she just laughed and laughed. It was wonderful.”

Two weeks later Memouna arrived on the dock with her father for a check-up. She kept to herself, waiting on the benches when she was spotted. “Is that my Memouna!?” Lynne said. At her name, Memouna glanced around to find Lynne not walking, but dancing over to her. “It’s you, you’re here!” Lynne cheered, waving her arms in the air. 

Memouna clapped her hands and covered her mouth, trying, and failing, to hold back her giggles.

 Now, even though she does not give up her laughs easily, we can see the real Memouna. In those moments, there is a cute teenager in a pink sweatshirt and orange nail polish where a timid, downcast child used to be.

 With the removal of Memouna’s tumor comes the chance for physical and spiritual healing.

The Saga of the Right Ankle Continues . . .

Some of you may remember that on October 7, 2011, I sprained my right ankle.  After ten days in an air cast, I was pronounced well and ready to run.  Fast forward to April 2012 when my ankle went bonkers again.  This time, I wore a brace and went through a month of physical therapy.  In May, I was again pronounced well and on June 3, I ran to Ghana with my friend, Tiffany.  Somewhere between then and August, my ankle went out again and I saw my doctor at Twin Cities Orthopedic on August 28.  He order an MRI and on August 31, I found out I had a tear in my peroneus brevis muscle (under the outside of my right ankle) and I was put in a cam boot for thirty-three days!  I began to wean myself off of the cam boot on October 2, but by October 19 when I saw the good doctor again, I knew things were just not right.  Sure enough, he said it was time to stop the conservative measures and look at surgery.  He gave me the names of two surgeons, one in his office and one he had went to college with.

I called his co-worker first and he was booked out until January 2013 - wait!  He did have an opening in December - would I like it?  Sure, why not!  So I called the colleague from college - who had one opening last week and it just happened to be on my day off - Wednesday!

The colleague agreed that it was time for surgery and gave me his game plan - four weeks in a cam boot with my leg elevated, followed by another four weeks in a cam boot while my ankle continued to heal.  He had one opening day for surgery - November 14 - or I would have to wait until after the holidays.  His nurse would let me know.

I got home to a phone call from Twin Cities Orthopedics - the co-worker had an opening the following day - would I like it?  Yes!  The colleague was fine, but I wasn't excited and I wanted to see the co-worker.  And I did - on Thursday!  Wow!  Talk about a difference - I was shown my torn peroneus brevis muscle.  I was told that my ankle was weak - he showed me how each of my ankles responded to pressure and movement - which meant he would also do surgery on my ligament which had been stretched like taffy.  He had me off my ankle for 24-72 hours, then I would have a weight bearing cast, although he didn't recommend me doing too much of anything while I was in the cast for the next six weeks.  I liked him, I liked his explanations when I questioned him about what the other doctor had said, and I scheduled surgery for November 19.  I don't know what time yet, but I do know Sam and the kids will be home to take care of me the first week (except the 20th) and maybe by Christmas, or at least by the first of the year, I'll have my cast off!  

And then . . . maybe some day, I can run again!     

Nicknames . . .

This blog is dedicated to MWS staff - current and former!

Some of the regular swimmers at the Y are best known by their nicknames - everyone loves "Sidestroke Guy" who goes by Bruce in the real world;  no one wants to swim with "Splash Boy" for obvious reasons; and "Backstroke Lady", alias Barb, is just a sweet lady with an extremely unique backstroke!   This fall, I've been swimming with a new guy - "Tattoo Man" - and last Thursday, I finally got to talk to him when we arrived at the lap lane at the same time.  In my quest to discover why people have the tattoos they do, I asked "Tattoo Man" why he had such a large tattoo on his right shoulder.  He told me his dad had died when he was 18 and the tattoo was in his memory.  His dad had had a picture of Michael Angelo on his desk and now it was forever on his shoulder - painful at the time and pricey!  I did also ask "Tattoo Man" what his real name was and he said, "Josh" - and it connected with me!  I was talking to Josh Sutherland, local youth pastor, who's mom Cyndee taught with Sam at MWS!  So I said to Josh, "You're Josh Sutherland, your mom is Cyndee and your brother is Jesse and you're 33 years old!"  I think I put him in to shock - then I told him who I was!  Not only did we have a good chat, but so did Dean, "The Guppy", who joined us in the lap lane!       

Found in New Zealand . . .

 

That's Melissa Huestis from Brisbane, Australia 

and I'm holding a sweet little one with a cleft lip.