Well . . .

We got quite the unexpected and interesting e-mail yesterday from the Mercy Ships Academy Chief Administrator, the same man who was our neighbor and became a good friend back in 2004 aboard the m/v Anastasis; the same man who has called us to every summer program we've worked since then; the same man who told us there would be no summer program again this year . . . would we be interested in spending six weeks in Texas (at the Mercy Ships International Operations Center) this summer, working with the children whose parents are in training to become long-term crew?  Or if we can't, do we know of anyone who could?  We'd have free room and board and a stipend, too!  Knock us over with a feather - we had just decided to set up Sam's left shoulder surgery . . . pray with us as we see how God leads.

Need I say more?

An Update On Sam's Shoulder Surgery . . .

Sam saw his surgeon this morning and the report was good.  His incisions are healing nicely and the stitches are out.  He may start sleeping again at night (nope, he's been sleeping days only - I told him he was just like a mixed up baby!) in a week or so - it's a very common problem with this surgery - or so the surgeon says!  And the blood clot in his leg - I didn't mention we spent Tuesday evening at the hospital while Radiology determined that the hot spot he felt truly was a blood clot! - apply heat three times a day.  Continue in physical therapy and take the next FOUR to SIX weeks off of work!  Without naming names, someone in this house thinks he'll be going back to work sooner than that, but . . . he still can't lift for a month and won't be feeling really good for at least three, so stay tuned!  And thanks for praying - don't stop! 

Finding Aicha

Once, when I was looking for Aicha, I found her hiding behind her father. Since the day she arrived on the ward, she had been upset. I thought I could lift her spirits. I assumed cheering up a four-year-old would be easy, but, as I approached, she gripped her father’s arm. She looked terrified. Aicha’s big brown eyes met mine, and they told me something sad – she did not want to be found. 
Aicha was burned in a house fire. Flames had licked the sides of her face, the backs of her arms, her thighs, shoulders, wrists, neck, and hips. Her right ear was missing. Because she went without proper wound treatment, the skin on her elbows, arms, and sides contracted. This caused her skin to regrow in such a way that her inner elbows became stuck to her forearms.
 
Aicha received surgery onboard the Africa Mercy to release her contractures and graft new skin, but her glassy eyes remained round and wary. This little body had endured a lot in its four years, including heartache. The fire that left her this way had also killed her mother. Underneath Aicha’s wounds was a child scarred by anxiety, grief, and an inconsolable fear.
From her hospital bed in the furthest corner of the ward, Aicha could see everything. Abdom, her father, sat on a stool at her bedside and smiled apologetically to people who sent her into tears just by glancing in their direction. Abdom could not leave Aicha’s side without sending her into hysterics. He was the only comfort she had left. During bandage changes, she called out for her mother.
Aicha was scared of everyone. It seemed like there was no remedy for her fear. She didn’t care for toys, or treats, or hugs. She wasn’t interested in playing games. To approach her with a smile could induce panic. We are professionals when it comes to winning the hearts of even the most stubborn kids, but Aicha was different. Aicha was heartbroken.
 
Because Aicha’s recovery took several months, time was on our side. Slowly, she regained her mobility with rehabilitation exercises. Slowly, she became curious about the strange people in blue scrubs who brought her balloons and sat with her father. Sometimes these people in blue sang and danced. Sometimes they gathered in a circle by the door and bowed their heads. From her corner bed, Aicha watched.
When Aicha was well enough to go outside, she liked to sit on the deck in her father’s lap. Maybe it was just the sunshine, but she started to warm to us. Her grip on Abdom’s shirt loosened a little.

 

There were days that involved dressing changes and bitter medicine (on those days, we lost some ground), but they were followed by days with little smiles. We took what we could get. Winning over a broken heart means victory comes in shattered pieces.
 
Then came patience and love. Over those next few weeks, we loved Aicha until she asked to color. We waited until she smiled at our silly faces. We gave her space. We pretended not to notice when she took a little step away from her father’s side. We played it cool when she explored the ward on a scooter. Each time Aicha left the safety of her corner, there we were. We were safe, too.
Then came the day she fell into our arms. Winning Aicha was worth the wait.
 
Today, Abdom no longer carries the burden of being his daughter’s only comfort. When he leaves for work, he knows she is alright in his absence. “You have set me free. You have given me my life back,” Abdom says.

 

Now if I go looking for Aicha in the hospital, I know I won’t find her, and that’s okay. It’s not because she’s hiding – Aicha stopped doing that a while ago. It’s because she doesn’t need a hospital anymore. Today, Aicha is at home in Congo – hopeful, healed, and unafraid.

Photos by Michelle Murrey and Debra Bell, Copyright Mercy Ships 2014.

Today’s story was made possible by some wonderful volunteers who helped Aicha along the way. Thanks, Josh Callow, Jasmine Bursey, Erin Williams, Chris Glasgow, and Deb Louden.

No more happy place . . .

The nerve block in Sam's shoulder disappeared somewhere around 10:00 a.m. yesterday while I was teaching CPR-PR at the Y - in classroom B, not Kids' Stuff North where I normally teach (I know - creative naming by someone!) which meant I spent my morning dragging infant, child and adult manikins along with AED's, face masks, gloves, paperwork and school mats (yes, my class did thank me for protecting their knees!) through the Y - in a laundry cart!  I came home exhausted an hour later than normal to a husband in pain, a son who wanted to build a fire, a daughter who spent her morning being a "go-fer" and a happy puppy!  Of course, as Sam was telling Matt how to build the fire, he gave him the wrong instructions - he closed the flue instead of opening it and filled the house with smoke setting off the fire alarm and scaring the dog. Somehow, the alarm going off must have scared Matt, too, because he spilled a mug (and I mean his gigantic Mercy Ships mug!) of hot chocolate on the fireplace and the floor.  And all I wanted was lunch!  So after icing and drugging the husband, petting the dog, wet vaccumming the floor, and folding laundry (I started that before I left) - I ate!

Fast forward to this morning and I taught 4th grade Sunday School.  We're in Exodus and talking about those grumbling Israelites and how after seeing God do all those miracles, they still complained!  We also talked about how we could turn our complaints into thanksgiving and it hit me on the way home - I have not been doing that!  

So to everyone who heard me complain this morning about my whiny husband, I apologize.  I'm now working on being thankful.  I am glad that I do have a husband and I'm even glad I have mine.  And I'm even happier that he seems to be doing way better now than when I left this morning.  Thanks for asking . . .

Sam's Shoulder Surgery

Sam, the right-handed teacher, had shoulder surgery on his right shoulder at 7:30 a.m. this morning.  Our friend, Scott, brought him over to the Surgery Center and once the kids were up and ready for school, I took Scott's place.  Scott snapped these shots of Sam before I got there:

The surgery went well, the doctor was pleased, but now the nerve block is starting to wear off and Sam isn't smiling quite as well.  Micah took some great pictures of he and Annie sleeping, but alas - I can't download them so just enjoy Sam! 

My Mischievious Helpers

So . . . compliments of a food gift we received

I spent quality time Monday evening and most of Tuesday

on the throne - and I so mean porcelain and not grace -

which left Matt and Micah to make dinner last night!

Nothing like a good flour fight to make the meal even better!

 They even wacked the poor black lab!  But they did clean up their mess (:

Siara

From "Deb's Heart in Africa" by Aussie Nurse Deb Louden to you . . . enjoy!

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!

 

Fascinating!

That's the one word Head Receptionist Kristin Jack had to say as she watched surgery one afternoon.  Read on . . . 


That is the only word that can accurately describe my experience on Tuesday afternoon.

I donned the Mercy Ships blue scrubs and bouffant cap and paper booties and was promptly escorted into OR 3 where I spent the next two hours watching a case where a piece of hip bone was removed to then be attached next to the titanium jaw. After a few months the bone will fuse to and grow around the titanium thus creating a solid new jaw.

Dr. Gary took me through slides to explain everything he had done in the surgery and what Dr. Koffad and Dr. Biercin were doing. I don’t recall much except that the human body is fascinating and its resilience is incredible. I’ve seen plenty of before and after photos but to actually see the in between and the process it takes, amazing… Just amazing. To see surgeons attach dermis from the hip area to the inside of a man’s cheek to smooth out the wrinkles from the tumor, to see the relatively small chunk of bone that will grow and create a jaw… It’s just awesome!

I also observed a plastics case where Dr. Tertius was straightening a contracted arm and doing a skin graft. Oh my goodness, the process used to create the skin graft is so cool and again just left me wowed by innovations in medical technology and tools. (I would tell you more but for those who don’t like blood and such I’ll spare you but it was again, simply fascinating and way cooler than any Grey’s Anatomy episode!)

I couldn’t help too but think of just how incredible the service is to these patients, the transformation they undergo at the hands of skilled servants and the value and respect with which they are treated. The more I see of our mission of mercy practiced the more I love this organization and the more I am honored to support the hospital and serve the Africa Mercy crew!

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March Family Photos

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!

We put our favorite greens in the green glasses -

only one of our Irish children did NOT feel like smiling!
The second shot is a bit better . . .

 

Thanks again, Neighbor Nancy, for taking our photos!

 

No Longer Home . . .

 

You will never be completely at home again, 

because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. 

 That is the price you pay 

for the richness of loving and

knowing people in more than one place."

Miriam Adeney

Oh, that God has allowed me that privilege - to serve Him and love Him around the world.

The Dress Ceremony

In all my times aboard the good ship Mercy,

I was never able to attend a dress ceremony -

oh, but I wanted to!

To see and feel the joy of new life and hope . . .

read on -

Part of the Mercy Ships Obstetric Fistula Program includes the dress ceremony. This week onboard the Africa Mercy a dress ceremony was held for seven obstetric fistula patients celebrating their healing and new beginning!
What does a dress ceremony involve? Take a moment and envision the following…

From down the hall, the distant drums start to beat as the voices begin to sing out in celebration. Onboard the Africa Mercy, this is a day for celebration. Several women enter the hospital ward with their hands raised in celebration. Each one is dressed in bright fabric with fancy head-wraps and new jewelry. They each wear makeup, some for the first time in their lives. Today’s celebration is for them . . . because they have been healed.
The women share the emotional pain caused by their physical condition. As they stand up to give their testimonies, emotions are clearly written on their faces. Today marks a new day! Their strength and perseverance have finally carried them to the end of their suffering, and now they can let go of the past. It means they have the prospect of starting over and re-entering society. It is the start of a new life with delightful possibilities.
Joy wipes away their tears, and they dance out of the ward as they sing – a song of happiness, healing, and triumph that rings throughout the halls of the hospital. Each woman leaves the ship with her head held high in new-found confidence. It is her new beginning!

Obstetric fistula is an injury caused by obstructed labor. It causes a woman to continually leak urine, feces, or both. Sadly, these women are often shunned from society because of the smell resulting from their incontinence. In their culture, it is commonly believed that the physical problem is the result of a curse or a sin. Many of the women lose their husbands and families. They are completely cut off from society – alone and in despair.
Obstetric fistula awareness is important – it is a condition that could affect any woman in the world, but, with proper health care, it is preventable.
Healthcare is not easily accessible in many West African countries. In the western world, if the labor becomes obstructed, the mother is rushed into surgery for a caesarian section.
When it is time for obstetric fistula patients to be discharged and leave the ship, the women are given a monetary gift that will allow them to pay for an emergency caesarian section if one is needed in the future.
Healing takes courage, and these women are exploding with it!

HAPPY 25th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY!!!

That's right!

Sam and I were married twenty-five years ago today

in a snowstorm!

It was a miracle!

This morning when Sarah brought her four-year-old daughter to swimming lessons, it was obvious she had had her baby - little Alexander!  When she told us her story, it was obviously a miracle.  Her husband is in the Marines on a ship somewhere in the world.  She had e-mailed him last Thursday that the baby was coming, but with no response, she contacted the American Red Cross in order to have them contact him.  While talking to the Red Cross (and in labor in the hospital), she noticed an unknown number calling her.  She thought it might be the hub, so she hung up on the Red Cross and took the call.  She was all excited - it was her husband!  Her first question was, "Did you get my e-mail?"  Unfortunately, he had not, but he had called to say that they were going on thirty days "no communication".  Only God could have orchestrated that perfect timing.  Her husband was able to call a few more times while Sarah was in labor and he definitely knows he has a son!  Truly a miracle!

It's a girl!

The Mercy Ships family is growing… 
 
In July 2017, the Africa Mercy is going to get a little sister. And by little, I mean a casual 570 foot-long by 95 ft. wide, 37,000-ton bundle of joy.

The new ship will have two hospital decks and it will be able to hold up to 950 people total when in port. 

Shall we sail?

Step by Step to a Brighter Future . . .

The plane’s shadow followed the trail of the Congo River to the wide Atlantic – to the ship, they said, that offered free surgery. Vivianne held tightly to the two government-purchased travel tickets as she prayed for her wide-eyed, beautiful daughter, Ravette, who sat beside her and stared out the window with fascination.

Maybe, just maybe, the ship would save Ravette. And, in the process, it would save Vivianne, too.
The two have travelled light. They left much behind – the disappointment over the lack of medical care; the brutal breaking of Ravette’s legs by the traditional medicine man; the lifelong ridicule; the helplessness; the hopelessness – all of this was too heavy to pack.

Ravette has lived her eleven years of life with a deformity known as genu recurvatum, which loosely translates as “backward-bending knee.” It is a congenital dislocation of the knee. Ravette struggled to walk, to sit in a car or chair, to climb a staircase, and even to attend school.

The most remarkable thing about Ravette is not her deformity. It is her beautiful, ever-constant smile. No matter what goes on, even if it’s painful or tedious, Ravette is always smiling.

This glowing smile illuminated her face when she met Dr. Frank Haydon, a Mercy Ships volunteer orthopedic surgeon from the United States. Dr. Frank smiled back as he cast an expert eye over her legs and made his assessment: “At this age, the knees are now deformed and won’t bend normally, but we can make them straight.”

Ravette and Vivianne were shown before-and-after images of a boy named Abel, who came to the ship during the Togo field service. Abel had the same severe case of genu recurvatum. They watched a video of Abel walking down a hallway with straight legs. “It was then that I believed my daughter could really be saved,” said Vivianne.

Prior to surgery, Ravette’s legs were placed in the first of a series of specialty orthopedic casts that would gradually stretch her legs. This process would increase the bendability in her soon-to-be-straightened legs.

Surgery has since come and gone for Ravette. Hobbling around the wards with her crutches, she is always finding ways to have fun. Whether she’s playing with the Paint program on an old computer or mimicking her crew friends’ English in a singsong voice – “I’m fine, ow are yooouu?” – she creates smiles and laughter.

There are many more steps ahead on Ravette’s road to recovery. Gradually and progressively, casts and braces will be removed until the bones are strong enough for Ravette to walk with straight legs and no assistance.

You may be wondering what’s next for Ravette and her mother as they board another plane to go home. Ravette is clear about her plans for the future, as she states firmly, “I want to find a job in an office working on a computer. I will be a boss!”
And then she adds, “But, first, I will tell other people who suffer to come on the ship to be saved like me.”

Her mother smiles and replies, “Yes, and so they can be saved like me, too.”
Yes, step by step, cast by cast, Ravette is making her way to a brighter future.

Story by Grace Antonini
Edited by Nancy Predaina
Photos by Michelle Murrey, Catherine Murphy and Josh Callow

Did you know . . .

That as of February 15, 2014 (taken from the "Africa Mercy Programs Projects Progress Report" - our friend Keith is in charge of the AFM Programs Department), there have been...

• 547 pairs of reading glasses distributed
• Over 800 participants in Leadership Conferences
• 1093 individual counseling sessions by our Hospital Chaplaincy Team
• 367 participants in Health Care Education Courses
• 25 participants in a Mid-Wife Course
• 4,179 patients at the Dental Clinic
• 26 participants in Various Mentoring programs (Ward Nurses, OR Nurses, Sterilization, Anesthesia, Surgeons)
• 347 bibles distributed

Let's go for a visit!

 

A smile breaks all language barriers

Peek-a-boo!

Minne-snow-ta!

Last weekend after another ten inches of snow, Micah went out and took the following pictures.  Enjoy!

Annie loves the snow most!

Gateway to Narnia!