Wouldn't it be wonderful . . .

To experience what Laura had experienced?  Read on . . .

One of our hospital chaplains caught me walking through the hallway last night as I was on my way back to my cabin after a long day.  Laura, do you have a moment?  I want you to witness something.  I cannot hear this testimony alone.
I was a little confused but intrigued.  Of course I had a few minutes to spare!  So we walked together into C ward, greeted Senay and her brother, and pulled up a few stools in a circle with them.  Senay smiled at me, then dropped her eyes to the pastel hospital-gown patterns in her lap and said, every night I wet the bed before I came to the ship.
Vesicovaginal Fistula (VVF) is dry medical terminology for a condition that is anything but dry.  For small women who live days walk away from any kind of professional health care, an initially joyous childbirth can turn into up to 10 days of obstructed labor with no hope of a cesarean section, resulting in a dead baby and no way to stop the constant flow of urine through a newly-created hole.
It's a outcast sisterhood of over 2 million women worldwide leaking infected urine, living abandoned on the outskirts of their villages so no one will have to touch their uncleanness or put up with the foul smell.  It's a condition of poor medical access, of hard work and not enough food to grow tall and strong, of pregnancy at an early age, of poverty and loss.
For the last three months on ship our surgeons have been screening these ladies and performing fistula repair surgeries.  The fistula patients stay for weeks or months, loving on us as we care for them, pouring out hugs and kisses and scoldings from overfull cups.  Many of the surgeries are successful, and we rejoice with the tiny women, newly dry, who dance exuberantly in their new dresses and share stories of what God has done.
But some, too many, are too complicated for our surgeons.  Repairs have been tried and tried again, leaving only scar tissue and tiny bladders for the doctors to work with.  Diseases and sickness make it unsafe to operate.  Even modern medicine has limitations, and not all holes can be closed.  What is wet cannot always be made dry.  This too was Senay's truth, and she would be going home to her village today still leaking and smelly, still outcast.  Except for this new truth in her life:
It is a miracle.  Before I came I wet the bed every night, but since I have come to the ship I am dry.
I am dry.
We prayed there in our small circle in the middle of C ward, hands outstretched and overlapping, cupped to receive the blessing.  All I understood of the prayer was the repeated phrase nom de Jesu...in the name of Jesus.  It didn't matter that I couldn't understand the rest or pray in French together with them, because healing in the name of Jesus was the life-giving message we saw in our cupped hands, and the truth in the fingertips we touched to our faces.
As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him.  And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her.  She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.  But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”  When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace.” ^~ Luke 8:43-48
I pray that Senay and her brother will see this truth.  That Senay will remain dry and live a testimony of love and power, hope and forgiveness in her home so far from Conakry...that others will see, and know, and believe in a God who heals the outcasts when no one else can.

From Mercy Ships to YOU . . .

Precious Francios . . .

Indeed, precious!

Baby Batouli

Habibatou and Mamadou had never experienced this much joy and sorrow at the same time. Their first baby was a precious gift from God that made their hearts almost burst with love. Their daughter was perfect in every way – with one troubling exception. She had a malformation that split her lip, causing one side to grow up toward her nose. The parents had never before seen anything like this, and they did not know what this meant for their daughter.

They did know that deformity meant hardship. Many people would think their daughter was a bad omen. Mamadou’s first wife had already laughed spitefully at the news of the baby’s condition. Other torments were sure to follow. Could Mamadou and Habibatou keep their child hidden like so many did when there was an obvious physical problem?

After praying with Habibatou, Mamadou bravely decided to break from tradition and speak out about his daughter’s condition. He asked the people in the village if they had seen an upper lip like his daughter’s. No one, not even the elders, had ever seen anything like this.

When Mamadou called his brother Musa with news about the baby’s problem, Musa’s response was surprising. “Mamadou, do not worry. There is a ship coming with doctors who help babies like yours. They have done many surgeries, for free, to correct this problem.”

The good news gave the family much hope. The naming ceremony for Habibatou and Mamadou’s little girl was a joyful occasion. Their daughter was named Batouli, after her grandmother. It was a fitting honor for Habibatou’s mother, who had supported her son-in-law’s speaking out about the baby’s problem.
Mamadou arranged for Habibatou and Batouli to stay at Musa’s home in Conakry and find out more about the hospital ship. Habibatou recalls the experience. “We did not know for certain when this ship would come or if the doctors could help. I was afraid, but I had faith for the sake of my daughter.”

Habibatou’s faith was well-founded. The hospital near Musa’s home confirmed that Mercy Ships would be screening patients for surgeries the next week. Habibatou spoke softly, “I was grateful to learn from the hospital nurse that Batouli’s condition was called a cleft lip and that Mercy Ships did these surgeries. She said that Mercy Ships would take very good care of Batouli and that Musa was right – Mercy Ships did not charge any money for doing the operation.”

By noon on screening day, Habibatou was clutching a Mercy Ships patient card for Batouli. For the next eight weeks, Batouli was seen by volunteer dietician Jessica King in the Infant Feeding Program. Jessica reported on Batouli’s progress: “At her weekly check-up I was so pleased with Batouli’s weight. She stayed on track for her surgery date!” Habibatou loved to hear Jessica’s weekly report. As each week passed, her daughter was moving closer to having her cleft lip repaired.

On the day of Batouli’s surgery, Habibatou prayed for all to go well, and it did. Within a few hours, she was holding her daughter in her arms. Habibatou spoke on behalf of her family, saying, “We are so grateful that our break from tradition brought us to Mercy Ships. This break has changed our dear Batouli’s life.”

Written by Joanne Thibault
Edited by Nancy Predaina

A Cultural Laugh . . .

On the good ship Mercy, over forty countries may be represented at any one time.  And from each of these countries come a variety of cultural differences.  Like the time we had a carnival and the Danes were a bit worried until they found out it was just a fair.  Or when the Aussie staff was shocked that we called a "bum bag" a fanny pack because "fanny" is NOT a nice Australian term!  Then, there are the differences down on Deck 3 - you'll have surgery in the theatre rather than the OR; you'll have a plaster put on after your shot rather than a bandage; and most logically, you'll go to plastics if you need plastic surgery!  So when I read the blog about the South African who made her American friend peanut blossom cookies, I just had to laugh.  You see, she wasn't quite sure what to do with those Hershey kisses that go in the center of the cookie - should she take the wrapping off or leave it on?  As they say, a picture paints a thousand words . . .

Do you know . . .

Pastor Brian stopped Sam after church yesterday and said he had been to a missions conference last week and ended up sitting by a guy who had served with Mercy Ships - and not only that - he knew us!  We met Brian Finley the first time we served on the Anastasis - it was his wife Amy who brought home a teary-eyed lost little Matthew and it was us who brought home four suitcases for the Finleys the following summer as they prepared to return to the states.  They now live over in St. Paul.   

Suzanne is a nurse with the eye team and what a glorious week she's had . . .

 

Written yesterday- Friday, January 18:

This has been a day I don't want to forget, so I am making myself take the time to write about it before the details escape me.

We are just finishing up week two of three weeks of children's cataracts and strabismus operations. Right now my work life is much busier here on ship than it was before the holidays- we have several wonderful surgeons on board, we are doing twice as many adult surgeries each day and- to my great delight- we have cataract kids on the wards! Because the kids need to have their operation done under general anesthesia, they are admitted to the ward one day before surgery and stay one day after.

Today was the first post-op visit for 11 kids who had surgery recently. Instead of doing the visit at the clinic we brought them in the eye room on ship, so I had a room full of smiling, energetic SEEING children.

Two weeks ago, every single one of these children were blind. They were quiet when they came on board the first time; they clung to their parents and took in their world caution and hesitation.

Today, everything was different. The kids walked confidently up the gangway alongside their parents. Two of the boys walked hand in hand, they were in beds next to each other on the ward last week. While they were blind they did not talk to or acknowledge each other, but once their eye patches came off the morning after surgery they became inseparable friends.

This is the first time I have had so many kids in the eye room at once. When I looked at all the wiggly 4-7 year olds, the dance teacher part of me sprang to life and saw a classroom. The opportunity for play was too good to pass up- while we were waiting for our surgeon to finish in the OR, I sat with all the kids on the floor in circle. We put all our feet in the middle and pointed and flexed our toes just like I did with the littlest dancers at home and then we played a version of "simon says". The kind nurses of A ward let me take a couple balloons out of their drawer and the kids and hit it back and forth.

The whole time I marveled at the miracle before me. Less than two weeks ago these kids saw little or not at all. Now here they are playing games with me, active as any other kids would be. The mother of a 7 year old boy told me that the very first thing her son did when they left the ship was to ask for a pen and paper. He wanted to know how to write the alphabet.

Most mornings when I get the eye room ready I listen to the same song called "oh how I need you"- it talks about seeking after the Lord and being near to Him. The bridge begins with the words "light, glorious light I will go where you shine". Those words were on my mind while watched the kids today- light is glorious, both to our physical eyes and to our souls. Today was a day of rejoicing in the light and the freedom that it brings.

Light glorious light

I will go where You shine

Break the dawn , crack the skies

Make the wave right before me

In Your light I will find

All I need, all I need is You

Early Morning Alarms . . .

In all our times aboard Mercy Ships, we've only had one early morning wake up alarm.  It was a fire alarm this past summer while we were serving in Togo.  Read about Krissy's early morning alarm . . .

DING - DONG... "Emergency medical team, report to A Ward immediately. Emergency medical team, report to A Ward immediately." 

16 simple words, yet so much impact.

Our entire crew was awakened last night by that overhead page, piped into all cabins, at 2:45am.  Immediately I heard my roommate rustling around, the door closing behind her just a few seconds later. Her footsteps faded as she hurried down the stairs outside our door, quickly followed by many other pairs of feet, leading to A Ward.

As I waited for the adrenaline surge at this announcement to fade, I laid in my bed and prayed a prayer echoed by hundreds of others the same time, from their beds.  God, please be with the Emergency Medical Team.  Please be with whatever patient is in distress.  Please guide the doctors, nurses, and caregivers to best handle the crisis.

When there's a page like that at 2:45 in the morning, you know it must be very serious.  As we are a floating hospital, there are always Ward nurses on duty and doctors on call, all hours.  Most problems are easily handled by those highly capable people.  In fact, this was the first EMT overhead page we've heard since I have been here; there was one while I was on board in Sierra Leone.

But while I was praying I was also reflecting on the fact that because of this incredible community that is a hospital, every single other Crew Member lying awake in their beds, or soothing their crying babies, or lovingly encouraging their children to go back to sleep; every one of them was praying the same prayers I was.  In that sleepy, confused, adrenaline-laden time, we were all united, under the same banner and purpose and calling.  For that, I am grateful.

The prayers were felt; the patient was rushed back into surgery, and is doing very well today.  All of the nurses, Emergency Team members, doctors, even the Receptionist who made the overhead page, worked in their calm confidence of their calling, knowledge, training, and trust in each other.

I am continually amazed by the incredible community of people I get to live and work with here on the Africa Mercy.  Thank you, EMT, the Surgical Staff who jumped in to their scrubs ready to work at 2:45 this morning, and thank you to everyone who prayed for this patient.  It makes a difference.

Not every child . . .

It seems like recently no matter where we go or who we're with, their children are in AP this or that.  AP stands for Advancement Placement and I know how hard their kids work because - believe me - their parents tell me.  "Well, my child . . . ", "Well, my child . . . ", "Well, my child . . . "  (Try putting the emphasis on a different word each time you read it.)  Well, let me tell you - my child is NOT in AP classes and he probably never will be, but my child pulled his non-AP biology grade up from a solid "F" to a "D" - a solid "D" - woo hoo!  And he worked his bottom off for that "D" and we are praising God for that "D" because not every child . . .

More on the VVF Ladies . . .

I don't remember meeting Hannah Calvert, but I do remember meeting her husband, Ben, his first day on the ship!  Hannah is a charge nurse down on the wards and Ben is currently the Academy principal.  Weep with Hannah as you read her post:

       I suffered a long-overdue breakdown yesterday just before lunch. I decided reluctantly that I did want lunch, so I cleaned up my face, blew my nose, and headed to the dining room, more to find a friendly face than to eat. I sat with Trudi (God bless her!) and, while trying to give the gist of what had upset me, I started tearing up again. When I asked down the table for a napkin, one kind nurse asked what was wrong. "I work in B ward, with the VVF ladies". "Oh, enough said", she replied.
It is a well-known and understood fact amongst those who work in the hospital, and for most on the ship, how very difficult this season of VVF surgeries has been. For those far and wide who I have neglected to communicate with, I will fill you in a bit.
       Vesico vaginal fistula, or VVF, is a result of obstructed labor causing a hole to develop in the bladder, resulting in a a constant leaking of urine after her baby has been delivered (often stillborn). This problem is almost 100% preventable, but too common in West Africa. It ruins women's lives. They can't work, they are often abandoned by husband and family. They live as outcasts, if they have the will to live at all.
       VVF surgeries started on the ship in November. I transferred to B ward to work with the VVF ladies. There was a lot of excitement as exams were done and surgeries commenced. But one by one, most remained wet after surgery. Many were turned away by the first surgeon. "Have her come back for the second surgeon, she has more experience with difficult cases". So they were asked to wait. A good many waited with us on the ward, others at the local hospital. With every set-back, like the women themselves, the nurses clung to the hope that maybe the next surgeon would give a better prognosis. Most of the women here have had unsuccessful repairs locally. Subsequent repairs create scar tissue, increasing difficulty with each surgery.
       Our third and final surgeon began exams on Monday, surgery on Tuesday. Six of our twenty on the ward were given a "no"straight off.
       One of those turned away is just 20 years old. Diarraye is a beautiful young lady with a mischievous grin and quiet affection. She was married off young. Her first pregnancy caused her fistula. Her baby was stillborn, her husband eventually left her. She cannot work with the condition.  She has no education. Her prospects are dire. After she was told there was no possible surgery, there isn't any healthy tissue to reconstruct, Diarraye lay on the floor wailing, inconsolable. By the next morning she sat in her bed, more sedate than usual, but with the same half smile as usual. Quiet acceptance of a fate beyond her control.
       There aren't words to describe the heartbreak, the sheer unfairness of it all. Tragic things happen all over the world every day, but this is PREVENTABLE. As charge nurse on the ward I've tried to  hold it together, dealing with issues as they come up, loving on each woman while she's with us, even if we can't help her medically. Yesterday, on my day off, there was no stopping the floodgates from opening, my tears flowing unchecked  down onto my shirt,  over my computer, streaking makeup down my face. A small relief to the sickness of heart I feel when I think of each one of these precious women walking away from this ship, unchanged and utterly hopeless. God, be their hope where they have none. 

Yaya

Rather than joyous celebration, the reaction to Yaya’s birth was broken family ties. Yaya’s mother, Salematou, and his father, Abdulaye, were not married when their son was born. The tradition that Salematou’s father lived by did not make room for a child born out of wedlock. Despite Salematou’s pleading with her father to allow her to keep her child, his decision was final. As soon as Yaya could leave his mother’s breast, he was sent to live with Kadiatou, his grandmother on his father’s side.

Living with his grandmother turned out to be a wonderful blessing for Yaya. Kadiatou personifies the bottomless heart and limitless space that African grandmothers offer their children and their children’s children. She assumes whatever responsibility comes her way, no matter the burden. Kadiatou explains, “There are many mouths that I feed in my family. In addition to Yaya, five of my children and their nine children need my support too. Everyone shares in the work of the household, but earning income in Conakry is very difficult. My husband now, Mamadouba, is very old. He gives what money he can, but he has family to support too.”

Yaya stole his grandmother’s heart from day one. His ready smile and eagerness to be close to her formed a thick bond. When tragedy struck Yaya, Kadiatou was distraught. “Yaya started walking when he was one year old, but after taking a few steps he would fall. We tried many traditional medicines, but his condition grew worse. At eighteen months, his legs started to twist and curl up. They failed him entirely.”

Yaya’s uncle, also named Yaya, remembers this as a time of many trials for his mother.  “Kadiatou was so afraid for Yaya. He often had a high fever, and his legs would cramp up terribly. He would cry for hours from the pain. Kadiatou tried everything to soothe him. She held him for hours. Then my father and sister died very close together. My mother’s heart was broken into so many pieces.”

Kadiatou, who had taken in her daughter’s five children, decided that moving the family to Conakry, the capital of Guinea, was best for Yaya. “I hoped that the medical care Yaya needed was in a big city. As well, I knew that Conakry had schools for handicapped children that Yaya could attend.” Another important reason for the move was that Kadiatou was protecting Yaya from the villagers who thought that children with disabilities were cursed. She would not stand for her grandson being tormented, ridiculed, or forced into hiding.

When Yaya reached five years of age, he started attending the school for handicapped children. “I was so happy for Yaya. He started to learn his letters and bring home things he made,” Kadiatou says. Although there were no school fees and transportation was provided, Kadiatou still had expenses to cover, like school supplies. She made ends meet by going to the Grand Mosque daily and helping with cleaning and cooking. After a full year of being a volunteer, she was finally included in the group that received a weekly stipend, plus donations of money and food from appreciative people attending the Mosque.

Yaya often joined Kadiatou at the Mosque after school, and he soon became a favorite with everyone. In the Muslim faith, people are eager to help the needy as a way of observing sadaqah, the duty to overcome miserliness. Many Muslims wanted Yaya to join the group of handicapped people who begged, so that people could give to him. Kadiatou was against Yaya’s doing this, regardless of the enormous struggle she had to support the family. “I faced so much pressure to allow Yaya, in such obvious need, to help people fulfill their duty to sadaqah. I finally relented,” she explains.

Kadiatou continued to be distressed with Yaya’s participating in sadaqah. She prayed that Yaya would get his education and find an occupation where he could use his sharp mind and very able hands. Kadiatou had many doubts about her prayer being answered, but she remained faithful, clutching that thin bit of hope to her heart.

Yaya himself dared not hope. But then an incredible set of circumstances unfolded around him. Nick Veltjens, who worked with orthopedic patients, saw Yaya at the patient screening location the day before consultations began. “I waited all screening day for Yaya to come because I thought we could help him. We didn’t see him that day, so I sent an email around asking if anyone knew where he was.”

According to Yaya, “I did go to the screening with my friend, but I lost my courage.” Yaya left without being examined.

The next day, Dan Bergman, a long-term hospital volunteer, came to Nick with a video of a possible orthopedic patient that he had just seen outside the Mercy Ships Dental Clinic. According to Nick, “What a coincidence that Dan found the same little guy that I was looking for!”

For Dan, this series of events said loud and clear that, “God wanted Yaya to find Mercy Ships. He kept putting him in front of us!” Dan tracked Yaya down at the Mosque and delivered the news that he had an appointment at the hospital ship.

But Yaya missed his appointment. As he says, “I did not believe I could be healed, and so I did not want to tell my grandmother to bring me. She would be too disappointed.” But another divine coincidence occurred that finally put Yaya and Mercy Ships together. A government official, Cellou, who had befriended Yaya at the Mosque, was at the Mercy Ships Dental Clinic that same week. He casually asked what a young boy with deformed legs needed to do to get an appointment. It was quickly realized that the boy in question was Yaya and that he just needed someone to bring him to his appointment.

Cellou immediately went to Yaya’s grandmother with the news about Yaya’s appointment. They agreed that Cellou would go to the hospital ship with the boy. When Kadiatou received the telephone call from Cellou telling her that Yaya was accepted for surgery, she experienced a mixture of emotions. “I was so grateful that Yaya could be helped. It was all that I had prayed for. But I was also very uncertain and afraid. I wondered how it would be possible to fix Yaya’s legs and what he would go through.”

Dr. Frank Haydon, volunteer orthopedic surgeon, was able to fix Yaya’s legs. According to Dr. Frank, “The condition that Yaya was born with caused his bones to be very brittle. As he started to walk, the pressure on the bones caused multiple fractures. The surgery he had aligned his leg bones properly, and the two rods I installed will give his legs the needed strength and structure so he can walk.” 

Each day Yaya does grow stronger. He is starting to take his own steps with the help of a walker, and he has progressed to simple below-the-knee leg casts. But at the same time, each day wears on Kadiatou. She shows the strain of being away from family and being indebted to more and more neighbors. She has borrowed money from them for food and malaria medication. However, regardless of the hardship, Kadiatou’s commitment to see Yaya through his healing journey is unwavering. “I would endure anything so Yaya can do what he longs to do more than anything else – play football. By suffering for Yaya and my family now, I know that there will be great happiness in the future,” she says.

According to his uncle, Yaya’s journey to hope and healing is summed up in a few words: “Yaya is so loved by everyone on Mercy Ships.” And, still, even with so many kind hearts embracing Yaya, there is one who continues to occupy the most special place in his heart. As clear as a bell, Yaya declares, “I love my Grandmother so much! She has done everything for me.”
-Ship Writers

Good-bye, Cast!

Friday morning at 8:00 a.m., Kris cut off my cast!  It was wonderful (the cast was gone!), it was disgusting (my leg) and it's six more weeks wearing my brace everywhere but in the shower!  I start physical therapy on Monday, back to work on Tuesday and I drove for the first time since November 17 today!  Here are some photos of the home team celebration:

Brownies baked and decorated by Micah

 

A Resounding "YES!"

Another article taken from another blog - I couldn't even tell you who - there is no name - I'm sure I've never met her - but I do know she's a receptionist on the ship and she joins me in giving Mercy Ships a resounding "YES!"  Read on . . .

I like Mercy Ships thinking . . . I have learned that this Mission Ship not only prays in advance to seek which destination they are to serve at next, they also invite the World Leaders in the neighboring countries to give their thoughts on which country is in the most need.

Like they did for Guinea here, it has been 10 years since they were last here and the Ship prayed and felt like they had their “Direction”.  For affirmation, they invited the World Leaders at the last gathering talk amongst themselves to determine which of their countries needed Mercy Ships the most.  They all responded with Guinea!!!

Africa Mercy will continue with the surgeries of VVF Ladies, Max Fax, General, Goiters/Thyroid that are benign only!  I love that they pray with their patients before going into surgeries. I love that the Medical Team prays even prior to patient.  I respect that they choose to operate only on illnesses & afflictions that Guinean’s can obtain necessary medicines thereafter.  

I love having the opportunity to pray (quietly) for individuals that are not having the opportunity to have their needs met.  That means….. while we are able to serve some, I felt saddened for others whom we’ve had to turn away at this time (because of the predetermined qualifications).  To me that gave me opportunity to pray for these individuals and ask that “If we cant serve them medicinally, I pray for a Divine healing be administered instead”! I quietly touched and pray this with as many people as I could possibly touch!

I love hearing the singing of the African women this morning as they are waiting their surgery.  You can pick up on their atmosphere of “hope & healing” has arrived.  They have been shunned by the community for so long and now they are being given the chance to re-enter life & community!!!  It is a great day.  It is restoration.  It is healing all the way around!

Mercy Ships has been asked to sail to Congo after this next dry dock period.  Extra nice thing about this is the President has already commissioned Mercy Ships to build a medical barge.  It would travel up and down the interior river of their Country and meet the needs of the people there.  Their plan is to have us work along side their Nationals for 6 years, train them & transfer the responsibility over to them.

From time to time we also get special guest that want to come on board and do “Humanitarian Run/Service”.  This next week is bringing in two Actors from Germany. Apparently, they are well known there, but not much beyond the borders of Germany.  They will come & serve in our Galley for a couple of weeks. Should be interesting, if not novel!!!

LOL

I've got a secret!  I have a favorite blog site that I check almost, if not every, day!  And from that site, I gain a wealth of information!  One of today's blogs had me laughing out loud!  From "Jay on a Boat" read on:

"I’m really excited for what this new year will bring, and have a few surprises in store. This year was full of its own adventures, from getting a Texas drivers license to popping my first wheelie on a motorcycle. Those were both moto-related… how about my first time living through a dry dock phase? Or my first time rescuing sick people off the summit of a volcano? That’s only partially moto-related. In any case, 2012 was interesting. Let’s see how 2013 stacks up."

Did you catch that?  Jay rescued sick people off the summit of a volcano!  It was ME! 

CELEBRATE!

The celebration was small at our house last night!  Micah baked and decorated a cake . . .

 

Annie jumped in and begged to join the party!

 

And we thought "Why not?"

HAPPY NEW YEAR!