Lalao's Burden

Today's story is reblogged from "Through My Porthole" . . .

We are similar ages, but our lives are worlds apart. As Lalao shared her story with me, I was shocked by the injustices she encountered before finally receiving her healing!

It seemed like a small thing, so Lalao paid scant attention to the small bump on her face. Instead of disappearing over time as she expected, the swelling on the Malagasy school teacher’s face grew and grew. Over 14 years the benign tumour developed until it resembled a huge bag of marbles hanging from her cheek. The growth did not hurt, and amazingly her school children just ignored the strange sight. Lalao and her husband Albert are well-liked and respected by their small community, so people looked beyond her odd appearance. Lalo simply donned a scarf and continued to go about the village.

A CAT scan confirmed Lalao’s tumour was operable. Pics K.Keegan, R.Plomp

The day came when Lalao’s burden prevented her from turning her head to the right. She was unable to sleep comfortably. She could no longer help in the garden to provide food for their family. So the 50-year-old began searching for help to eradicate the parotid tumor taking over her life.

Lalao and Albert traveled to a city hospital and were assured Lalao was a candidate for surgery. They paid five years’ savings up front for the operation then went home to await the appointment. They waited and waited, finally returning to the facility only to be told it was no longer possible to perform the operation. The couple were not able to retrieve their payment, and were sent to another hospital. Again they paid 400,000 Ariary-ariary to be added to the surgical list. Again, the promised appointment never eventuated. Their finances were exhausted and Lalao was deeply discouraged. She gave up hope of ever finding help, but Albert was determined to keep looking.

The couple were astonished when a sick baby from their village returned from the Mercy Ship with his tumor completely gone. They watched a TV program about Mercy Ships and knew they had found their answer at last.

Lalao went to a Mercy Ships screening day in the nearest city but the number of hopefuls already in line seemed endless. She returned the next day, and again there were hundreds of people ahead of her in the line. They had disabilities and conditions she had never seen before. Lalao was encouraged, “They can treat people like me!” she thought. “Even if I have to be in line for two weeks, I’m going to wait!”

So Lalao joined the line at three the next morning. It was cold in the mountains, and at least two hundred people were waiting before her. Eight hours later Lalao gave her medical history to the team. She was carefully examined and in 90 minutes she held the treasured appointment card in her hand.

The sale of a precious pig paid for their transport to the Mercy Ship docked at the coast. After so many disappointments, hope and healing was finally at hand.

Lalao was full of smiles as she prepared for surgery. The next morning she managed to say, “It was not painful! I just woke up and it was gone!”

Albert is overjoyed his wife is rid of the 5kg (11 pound) growth. “The way Mercy Ships is working is simple and really good,” he says. “It is so amazing they could remove it in one surgery. I was so happy I cried when Lalao came back from the operating room.”

Lalao & Albert ready to head home. Pic Ruben Plomp;

In just a few days Lalao could see great improvement. “It’s looking good,” she said. “Now I can turn my head! Before surgery I couldn’t look to the right. I am free of that big mass. I am very, very happy. I’m in good health and now I can turn my neck.”

“When we go back home we will share this story in the village,” promises Albert. “Everyone knew what the tumor was like – it had been there for 15 years! We will tell people Mercy Ships removed the tumor and if you have this kind of problem they can help you too.”

From my western perspective I was a bit disappointed, wishing Lalao’s result was more perfect. Her facial muscles had been stretched by the enormous weight that hung on them for so long, and her nerves needed to heal.  She declared,  “I am happy! Very, very, very happy. My face will need some exercise!” Her crooked half-smile masked her utter contentment.

Thankful Thursday

There is so much to be thankful for on this particular Thursday - the sun shone!  I had no cavities!  I had the lap lane to myself after twenty laps!  But even more, I am thankful for . . .

Seth, our neighbor who is a senior in high school, who faithfully picks Micah up for youth group and Fellowship of Christian Athletes and Faith Club - even on his birthday!  Thank you, Seth!

The water features at the Y!  Today was "Have Fun At Work" Day according to KARE 11, so we tried to think of something fun to do with our classes.  And we came up with turning on the water features.  It was a hoot!  Most of our kids had never played in them.  The smiles were precious, the giggles joyful and the fun?  Never-ending!

God is having fun . . .

In 2007, we met Keith aboard the African Mercy while docked in Monrovia, Liberia.  Keith is in charge of Mercy Ministries and sends crew out to visit orphanages, prisons, the disabled, agricultural sites and more.  We met Keith because our friends from New Zealand, Faye and Trevor, wanted us to give him their greetings and we've been friends ever since!  

Fast forward to 2016.  Keith sent us an e-mail asking us to pray for his 16-year-old nephew, Jeremy, who is the same age as Micah and lives in Indiana.  Jeremy is battling cancer.  Jeremy dreams of becoming a firefighter one day.  Jeremy, for now, would like to collect ONE fire department t-shirt from each of the fifty states in the United States.

My Bible study leader's son-in-law is a paid firefighter in St. Paul as well as a volunteer firefighter in Lakeville.  She shared with him Jeremy's desire for a fire department t-shirt from each of the states and how he doesn't have ONE from Minnesota yet.

Word's out that these men who risk their lives to fight fires also love to GIVE and support.  There just may be way more than ONE t-shirt in Jeremy's collection from Minnesota.  And I think that's A-okay because God loves to bless.   And I think He's having fun drawing these men's hearts together to support a sixteen-year-old who has a dream, yet is battling cancer.  To God be the glory . . . 

Stay tuned for a specific number.

Travel from Maroantsetra

Today's post was reblogged from "Monica in Madagascar" sharing the story of one group's travel to the ship.  As you read their amazing journey, may your heart ache with mine as you find out what scared them the most.

The following is a story about the most recent arrival of OBF patients, written by Mike Broadhurst, the Hope Centre facilitator. I have not met this man but he seems to have a huge heart for the local people. I would imagine he organizes all the patients coming and going to and from the Hope Centre, as well as many other responsibilities I would never even think of. His story is inspiring and nearly brought me to tears. These patients are some of the toughest and strongest women I have ever seen. Hope you enjoy.  

Dear Friends,

     We work side-by-side and we share many of the same goals and desires. From Keith to Sarah, Lizzy to Lindsay, Martha to Mirjam, Chris to Ria, we are all inextricably tied together in God’s desires. I’m sending you this tale of 15 women as a gentle encouragement of the great work you are doing in the Name of Jesus Christ.

Jesus said, “…Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Luke 6:20    

Jesus said, “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40

     We had been waiting for the ladies from Maroantsetra since Thursday afternoon. As the crow flies, it’s only about 160 kilometres from Tamatave, but if you’ve taken a bus anywhere in Madagascar you can attest to the fact that “as-the-crow-flies” really isn’t a great tool for determining how long it takes to get from one town to another.

     Suffice to say, these 15 ladies were supposed to leave Sunday a week ago, but that departure was delayed until Tuesday. The trip to the Hope Center should have taken two days. Instead, they arrived on Saturday – four days after they’re odyssey began.

     To get here they saw one of their buses slide into a river; walk 10 hours under the deluge of several thunder showers; sleep on the side of the road using their meager belongings for covering and bedding; and conserve what food they had so it would last four days instead of two.

     Usually when our larger group of guests arrive here at the Hope Center the transportation is in the form of either a bona fide bus or at least a 10-passenger van. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I looked over the balcony as the The Ladies from Maroantsetra arrived yesterday.

     Stuffed into a double-cab pick up truck were two-drivers, a chaperon and 15 ladies plus all of their belongings. A make-shift tattered canopy covered those sitting on the benches in the truck bed where no less than 10 ladies sat crammed together. The rest of the cadre were tightly compacted in the interior seating designed for five. It made me think of the Ringling Brothers Circus clowns I had seen as a kid – one after another piling out of a VW Bug, only I didn’t think of this sight as amusing, but with incredulity.

     Today I asked them about their trip. They had to take four different “buses.” None of them were an improvement over the one in which they arrived. “The first one didn’t have a canopy,” one lady told me. 

     “Did it rain?” I asked the group. 

     The cumulative response was a resounding “Yes!” “Sometimes it rained so hard all of our belongings got soaked,” another lady offered. Suffice to say, they didn’t have hotel rooms. The ladies said on one night the road was so rough the driver pulled over and waited several hours before moving on. They used the delay to disembark and sleep on the side of the road. 

     Their trip wasn’t supposed to include a boat ride, which I had heard about several times as we got updates on the ladies whereabouts. It occurred two days into the trip when they came to a river near Famba (a place I couldn’t find on the map). 

     There is no bridge to cross at this 60-meter-wide gap, so apparently locals have found a spot where the water is low enough that brave souls can drive across the river bed. All of the ladies left the truck and watched as the driver made his attempt. He failed.

     The rains that had fallen the night before added an element of the unknown. As the driver entered the waters the swollen currents overtook the truck and it lost traction. It didn’t sink, but it did slip and slide until it became stuck, teetering on some uneven rocks. To the best of anyone’s knowledge there it still remains. 

     It’s then that the ladies got their boat ride…two at a time, that is. It was on Thursday around noon that a local villager with something described as a canoe helped these ladies across the river in pairs. Once they got to the other side, they sat for two hours before they commenced their march to a nearby village, some 10 hours down the road. It’s during that walk that it started to pour, sometimes torrentially as the ladies explained. 

     From there they caught another truck, which took them to another depot, where they fianlly caught the vehicle that brought them to the Hope Center. They were in the truck, the one you see in the pictures, from sometime Thursday afternoon until late Saturday morning.

     As they were finishing with their story I asked them if they were ever scared. Again, in unison, they responded affirmatively. “What scared you most?” I queried.

     After commiserating for a few seconds one of the younger ladies raised her hand and gave voice to their fear, “We were afraid that we would miss our appointments.”

     Their fear makes me muse about the comforts of home and how something a little out of the ordinary has the power to disrupt my temperament on any given day. On the other hand the Malagasy treat the unexpected with such aplomb that I wonder if they know what a light they are to me. I pray that each and every one of these ladies are successful in their quest for the healing they so eagerly pursue. And I say, “Thank you,” to each and everyone of you for being the hands and feet of our Savior.  

Blessings! 

  

A Mother's Hope

Today's post was reblogged from "Into the Deep".  Be blessed!

“I would like to see her go to school. I want to give her the chance to run with the other children. To see her walking like every child! That’s my motivation!”

In a few, succinct words, Sandrins mother, Lydia, summed up what most parents hope for their eight-year-old child. They hope that their child will be accepted, will receive a good education to build a future on and that their child would be healthy enough to be able to play with other children. A year ago Lydia didn’t think that hope was possible.

On November 3, 2014 Lydia awoke in the very early morning, the sun had not even risen, and roused Sandrins from her sleep. Lydia heard through the radio that a hospital ship had arrived and it could correct the feet of children and make them straight again. Lydia didn’t know if Sandrins foot could be corrected but she knew she had to try and give Sandrins her best chance at a normal life. Away the two went with Sandrins on Lydia’s back for part of the 40-minute journey to the screening site. When they arrived they waited with hundreds of others who had a variety of physical ailments; all hoping for a free surgery that would cure them.

When their turn came, Lydia shared with Mercy Ships’ volunteers the heartbreaking details of how her daughter’s foot changed almost overnight. When Sandrins was only five years old she contracted malaria, which required a quinine injection – one in each leg. There were no problems with the injection on the left leg but not long after Sandrins received the injection to her right leg, Lydia knew there was a problem.

“About one week after the injection her foot began to swell and then it was like that for several months.  We tried everything without result.”

The injection caused Sandrins right foot to bend, forcing her to walk on her toe. As Sandrins foot grew worse it limited her mobility until she could no longer take more than a few steps without help. Often Sandrins had to be carried from place to place as she couldn’t walk far distances. Lydia tried to keep Sandrins in school but eventually it became impossible to carry her to and from the school – approximately a six kilometer walk in each direction. More and more Sandrins foot excluded her from life and slowly she was left behind.

After three long years, Lydia heard the news that she longed for, Mercy Ships would be able to correct Sandrins foot! The road would include two surgeries and months of physical therapy but the end result allowed Sandrins to return to school, play with her friends and return to her normal eight-year-old life.

Six month after she was fully healed, one could never imagine what Sandrins experienced during those difficult three years. Today, as Lydia watches Sandrins play neighborhood games with her sisters or head to school with all the other children in the village, Lydia cannot help but think about the long journey to reach this point. When asked what the biggest difference in Sandrins life is, Lydia shares, “Now she can play with her friends, she is going to school. She is accepted.”

This is what Mercy Ships does folks. It helps change lives, restores families and leaves the corner of the world they are visiting a little better than they found it.

Sendra

Today's post is reblogged from Nurse Amy Jones' blog, "through a porthole".  It shines the love and light of Jesus!

Sendra and I are the same age. He is my Gasy Brother. It doesn’t mean that he’s windy, and as many times as I explain it, that joke isn’t funny in another language. ‘Gasy’ can be placed as a prefix for anything that is a Malagasy version or done in a Malagasy way. ‘Madagascan’ doesn’t actually exist here, although it looks nicer without red wiggly lines underneath it. I guess if we referred to vanilla as Malagasy Vanilla no one would know where it came from?

I digress;

When we first met he was nervous about starting his first job in a while. He had a pretty bad year. A newly acquired limp showed how he had broken his leg from a serious car accident, the new title of a single dad after loosing his wife and associated unemployment. As I said, a pretty bad year. When the ship arrived he was just piecing life back together again. Putting the puzzle into some kind of order. He was giving English lessons to some of our translators and selling his marital home to make ends meet. We have worked side by side for over a year now. He was a translator for the medical capacity building team. At least that’s what it says on his badge. In reality he has been my colleague who is as passionate about changing healthcare in his country as I am. Maybe even more so. He has helped me navigate delicate, deeply disturbing, confusing and beautifully upsetting situations. Without a healthcare background you would think that he would faint, vomit or quit. But he never did.

I remember when I wanted to go and work with the midwives to familiarise my self with their equipment and team. Sendra leaned in at one point and whispered “are we actually going to watch that lady give birth”. I have to admit I hadn’t really played out the scenario in my head or thought about the fact this was probably the first time he had seen a birth. I just nodded. His eyes widened and he shouted a silent “help me God”. The baby was born and Sendra was so excited, I’m pretty sure there was a single manly tear.

As I continued to expose this man to uncomfortable situations he thrived and then one day told me he wanted to be a nurse.

He would often feel like he was already a nurse when he was translating and he dreamt that one day he would be able to enter the training program and then teach the Malagasy nurses what he had learnt.  When Sendra translates he teaches and learns at the same time. Each aspect of teaching he puts into practice. I would see his plate contents changing at lunchtime after our nutrition sessions and his hand hygiene would improve after our infection control teaching. Not only that, he would also question other nurses in their methods, as to why they weren’t following procedures.

A few weeks ago Sendra passed an entry exam in to nursing school. I was devastated and delighted. He started last week and now I have to survive without my Gasy Brother. But I know that he will be an amazing nurse. That he has soaked up everything he has translated in the last year and is now a wonderful teacher and mentor.

He said in his recent leaving speech that I treat people with compassion, something lacking in his country and if it were to be practiced then he believes corruption will cease and people will no longer be scared to go to hospital. He wants to follow all that I have taught and teach other nurses the same.

My biggest mentoring success story that I never knew about was happening right under my nose. I never planned it. I never put his statistics in to the data base. Those donors that get a monthly missions report have no idea, because he’s not a participant in any mentoring program yet he is the most educated non-health care professional in town with the biggest heart and motivation to change the world.

I believe his willingness to serve Mercy Ships gave him hope at a time in his life that was messy. That his time here has given him vision and a future that he could have never have dreamed of.

It’s not just the tumour

It’s not just the burn

It’s not just the Fistula

It’s about hope and hope comes to different people in different ways, not always in an operating theatre.

We so often focus on the patients but we have hundreds of day crew that are employed and there are so many inspirational stories that come out of their mouths each day. Sendra says that this ship and its crew will stay in his heart forever and I’m sure hes not the only one.

Sendra has chosen school over money. Or as he describes it he’s chosen a bright future. He has had to stop working for Mercy Ships so that he can study and attend lectures. That means no fixed or steady income. A few crew members have donated to his exam costs. Thank you so much if that’s you. If anyone would like to sponsor him through school then contact me.

Pray for him and his bright future, pray for me that I’ll cope with out him.

©2015 Mercy Ships – Photo Credit Katie Keegan – Sendrarena Miarinjara (MDG), Medical Capacity Building Day Crew

Only at church . . .

I went to church at Berean tonight simply because I am exhausted and don't want to get up tomorrow morning for any one or any thing.  I need a "stay in bed" day, but I needed church first so off to Berean!  I didn't see anyone I knew there.  I guess that's what happens when you arrive two minutes before the service starts and you grab a seat towards the front!  After a glorious time of praise and worship and an intriguing sermon on Acts 17, I got up to leave and it happened . . . 

"Tap, tap, tap" on the shoulder.  

"Don't you work at the Y?"  I hate that question!  Inevitably there is usually some snarky comment about "I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!"  But not tonight . . .

Tonight I met Kari and her husband, Grant.  Kari was in the Water X class this morning as I greeted the Water X instructor.  It turns out Kari and I both know and love Leigh who wasn't the Water X instructor and who doesn't yet love Jesus.  We had a wonderful time of meeting and chatting.  It felt good - just like my bed will soon!  Sleep well!

Immediate Prayer Request

This was posted on my friend Deb's blog.  Please join with us in praying for Oliva on the Good Ship Mercy.  Thank you.

Olivia was struck by a facial flesh eating disease called Noma when she was two years old. 90% of children who get this disease die. She survived, but has lived the last 20 years of her life with a hole in the side of her face.

When the ship was in Madagascar last year Olivia came for treatment but she was pregnant and we were unable to help her. By the grace of God, the Africa Mercy returned for another year to Madagascar allowing time for Olivia to give birth to her second child, a premature but healthy baby girl, Julia. When Julia was only 8 weeks old Olivia came for surgery to fix the hole in the side of her face. I looked after her on my night shifts many months ago. She was quiet and uncomplaining of the pain caused by surgery. Baby Julia was also very quiet and barely cried. Olivia would hear Julia begin to stir during the night, sit up in bed, breastfeed her and lay her back down to sleep with barely a sound, just a dark shadow moving in the night. Olivia's mother Justine was also with Olivia, helping her care for baby Julia while Olivia was recovering. 

Unfortunately the surgery to repair the hole in Olivia's cheek began to break down after a couple of weeks. Another much more complicated surgery was planned, a delayed flap from her shoulder to her cheek defect. This process is lengthy with many wounds, painful dressing changes and sore muscles as the skin from the shoulder is attached to the cheek and left for 3 weeks. Olivia rarely complained despite her head being at such an awkward angle. During this waiting period between surgeries Olivia's other child, Oliviene, aged 3, came to join us in the ward. This completed her little family and we were overjoyed at having them altogether during the Christmas season and for this long period of Olivia's journey.

Olivene is such a bundle of energy, with a mop of gorgeous curls, she is dearly loved and is frequently seen with crew from all over the hospital. She loves climbing on my back and singing "I like to move it, move it" from the song in the movie Madagascar. She loves nail polish and sitting in your lap, no matter what you are doing.

Over time Olivia's new flap tissue healed well and after the flap was released we all ooh'ed and ahh'ed over how great it looked. Olivia could once again look us in the eye and look after her children as their mother.

Today I walked over to Olivia's bed, baby Julia was laying there, squawking and smiling and talking her baby talk.  Justine was watching her and laughing. Olivia had a smile across her face that seemed to say "yes, this child is mine and I love her."

As we've done her wound care the last few days though, her wound, which was looking so great and healthy is suddenly not so great anymore. We are doing everything we can to get enough nutrition into this woman to breastfeed her baby and make her wounds heal. She feels discouraged and I feel discouraged. I can see a look in her eye that is questioning us, every time we take that dressing down "it is better?" I wish I could turn my frown into a smile and say yes. But it's just not. And so I call out to you. Please can you pray for her? It's time to storm the heavens for her because there's only so much we can do until it's really just up to God and we need him to break through. Can you believe for great things for Olivia and her family? We need to see a miracle.
 

Please Lord.

Thankful Thursday

Ever have one of those days where things just don't go the way you want them to?  Not a bad day - just not how I planned my day!  So God worked with me to be thankful . . . thankful for the warmer weather, thankful that it was just Jessica (who is 11 days from her due date!) and I in the lap lane; thankful for good kids who worked hard at swimming . . . but most of all, thankful that my daughter came home from youth group last night so excited and full of stories because she had had fun.  She doesn't go to the youth group at our church, she goes to our neighbor's.  It truly is group that showers love on the kids that come, that welcomes every one with open arms, and genuinely cares.  I am most thankful for those who lead and love with the heart of Jesus!

Minette's Cinderella Story

As you take a few minutes to read "Minette's Cinderella Story" reblogged from "Into the Deep", know that we serve an amazing God who changes lives inside and out.  (Note:  Nurse Stacia quoted in the article is a friend of ours from both time on the ship and in Texas.)

I met Minette about a year ago. Her story shows how there is light inside each of us, desperately trying to make its way out. This is only a slice of Minette’s story, which is still being written.

Minette excitedly sits in the chair, patiently waiting as the hairstylist works her magic. She can hardly believe this moment has arrived – when someone isn’t afraid of touching her and wants to style her hair. An hour later she emerges with her braids perfectly in place, ready for a celebratory party that she has waited for – for 16 years. On this day, Minette feels as special as the fairy tale princess Cinderella. No, Minette is not heading to a ball to meet her prince, but her biggest wish has already come true.

When Minette was five years old, her father, Robert, noticed something that broke his heart. His little girl showed signs of a condition called neurofibroma – tumors that grow on nerves throughout the body. In a developing country like Madagascar, little is known about neurofibromas or how to treat them. However, Robert knew this condition all too well. He’d also been afflicted with the disease; which showed its first signs when he too was only five.

“It’s something from life, something God let happen to us,” he shares. “No one else in our family has it.”

If the tumors were small, affected individuals could possibly hide their condition. However, the norm is one tumor grows much larger than all the others. Robert’s large neurofibroma resides on his right wrist, which at a glance appears like he’s holding a sack of groceries. In fact, holding a neurofibroma feels a lot like a sack – full of worms.

Minette’s large neurofibroma grew in a much more delicate place, from the top of her neck at the base of her skull where the hairline ends; as if it were part of her hair. It caused Minette nothing but heartache. People were afraid to touch her. As she grew, she endured the ridicule of being singled out by other children. Neighbors said the family was cursed. By the time Minette turned 21; her large neurofibroma had reached her waist and weighed 4.3 kilograms (approximately 9 pounds).

“People wouldn’t treat me as a human being,” she shares.

Minette wished for a cure, but in the real world, fairy godmothers don’t exist. Or do they? She didn’t have a magic wand but Minette’s fairy godmother came in the unusual form of a 16,500-ton hospital ship, the Africa Mercy; a ship dedicated to offering free specialized surgeries to the poorest of the poor.

Robert and Minette first heard about the Africa Mercy and the organization that operates it, Mercy Ships, on the radio. A hospital ship providing free surgeries sounded too good to be true. Villagers warned them that the foreigners on the ship would steal their organs and conduct experiments on them. Desperate for a cure, father and daughter ignored the warnings and made the three-hour journey to the ship in a cramped bus.

Upon arriving, Minette was evaluated by volunteer surgeons and staff for surgery. Everyone could see Minette’s discomfort – she didn’t smile, never made eye contact, and wore a constant grimace. Dr. Tertius Venter, the lead volunteer plastics surgeon on Minette’s case, and his surgical team had a simple goal: remove as much of Minette’s neurofibroma as possible without reducing her range of motion or damaging nerves.

On the morning of her surgery, nurses helped Minette prepare for surgery by scrubbing down her large neurofibroma. Two nurses worked together to lift the tumor that Minette had carried alone. Once in surgery, the team worked over three hours and removed the entire 4.3 kilogram (9 pound) tumor, resulting in an immediate physical transformation. Minette’s emotional and spiritual healing would follow.

Over the next few days, the all-volunteer crew gave Minette blood transfusions, and prayed and cared for her in a way she’d never before experienced. Deeper than Minette’s wish for her tumor to be removed was her wish to be loved. However, years of rejection made it difficult for Minette to accept that love. Every day the nurses, chaplains, and crew loved on Minette and slowly she began engaging with others. Finally, the moment came when Minette flashed a smile. Those who witnessed that moment won’t soon forget the beauty that radiated from her face. Minette hasn’t stopped smiling since.

“It was just really beautiful to see someone go from very little confidence to knowing that she could be confident and knowing that she was loved,” shared Stacia Julian, ward nurse and team leader for the plastics program. “There is so much light in her eyes now and true joy coming from her.”

Minette and Robert shared they are thankful for their restorative surgeries. Upon returning home, Minette’s wish came true, to commemorate the end of this journey with a trip to the hairdresser and a celebration party. Finally, free of their burdens, Robert says he now waits for the Prince Charming who will take his Cinderella away. “Happily ever after” has already begun for his princess.

More on Claudio . . .

Last week, I posted pictures of Claudio, who had a tumor on the back of his head that was about the size of his head.  Today, I read nurse Heather's post on her blog, "Girl.Nurse.Ship.Africa.DreamComeTrue" and had to reblog it for you.  May your eyes weep like mine . . .

Christmas eve I walked into my 7am morning shift expecting the same number of patients as we had the day before. Not much was going on these few days before Christmas. Surgeries had stopped for the week and the patients were all a few days post-op and were stable. I was surprised to see a young teenage boy in the bed closest to the nurse’s station. He was admitted late in the evening the day before. I read through the handover sheet from the evening charge nurse about the boy’s situation.

She wrote briefly that he was a 14-year-old boy with a large tumor on the back of his head that started bleeding significantly. He was rushed to the ship, then taken back to the operating room where they cauterize a superficial artery to stop the bleed, and then covered his head in layers and layers of bandages. Her note ended with a comment that made my heart sink. “He’s still a screening patient, has had a CT scan, but still needs a biopsy to determine if we can operate on his tumor. The doctors are saying that it’s unlikely.”

I’ve learned that “large tumor” has become somewhat of a subjective description. In this case, it was an understatement. It took but a brief glance at Claudio to see that the tumor on the back of his head, was about the size of his head.

I was instantly filled with more emotions than I knew what to do with. He’s so young. The tumor is so big. And we probably can’t help him. Heartbreak for this boy, frustration at our limitations, anger that his tumor has been growing for 12 years and no one helped him earlier.

Shortly after meeting Claudio, one of our translators came up to me and told me that the boy’s caregiver, who I assumed was his grandmother, needed to go home for a few hours and then would come back later. My initial, emotional and defensive thoughts were, “She can’t leave him! He’s just gone through a traumatic experience and she wants to leave? What could possibly be so important??” My quick answer to the translater was that the boy is too young to stay on the ship by himself and we require that he have a caregiver stay with him at all times. Then I asked why she needed to leave. “She needs to go home to wash their clothes. There’s blood all over them..”

The words wouldn’t come. Only the tears that filled my eyes that made it hard to see the plastic bag of Claudio’s clothes that the grandmother held up. I’d also missed the spots of blood all over the grandmother’s shirt and her skirt, evidence that she’d used whatever she had to stop the bleeding from Claudio’s tumor as she frantically tried to get him help. “We’ll get them washed for her.” And with that I walked out of the ward so they wouldn’t see my cry.

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It was Christmas eve and this boy was just trying to live through another day. He wasn’t worried about his holiday plans, or the presents he would get to open in the morning. He was worried about what would happen to him next.

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With the bleeding stopped and a pressure bandage in place around his head, we asked Claudio and his grandmother if they wanted to stay on the ship one more day, and spend Christmas here, or if they’d prefer to go that day. They don’t live in Tamatave, but have a friend that they have been staying with in town. They said that they’d prefer to leave. The plan was to send him home with a follow up appointment to check up on him in a few days. After that, he was scheduled to return to the ship 2 weeks later for a biopsy to be taken of the tumor. I had chaplaincy come and talk with him, and stress the fact that when he came back, it would NOT be for surgery, but only a test. The results of that test would come a few weeks later and would determine if we would be able to operate on him. They made sure to explain that there was a big possibility that the tumor was inoperable.

With all of the paperwork done and the hard conversations over, we were ready to send them down the gangway and on their way. The grandmother asked me if we had something we could give them to cover his head. There was already a large bandage covering the tumor but she said, “If we don’t cover it up, people will make fun of him”. I also realized then, that with them leaving so soon we hadn’t had time to wash their clothes. We found a new pair of clothes for both of them and gave Claudio a stylish hoodie that covered the tumor. He left with a smile on his face, though my smile was forced, as I watched him walk down the hallway unsure of what his life would hold.

I looked forward to January 5th with anticipation. With fervent prayers that the biopsy would come back with better information than was expected. Then in a charge nurse meeting before that day, I was told that Claudio wouldn’t be coming in on the 5th for a biopsy. But that he would be admitted the following week for surgery. I couldn’t believe it! I was sure he would end up being referred to the palliative care team. That he would be sent home with an apology that we couldn’t help him. After a review board meeting about his case the surgeons agreed that they could operate on him.

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Last week, Claudio had surgery. They booked out the OR for the whole day and had 8 units of blood on hold for him knowing that his tumor was very vascular and was very risky. They staffed the ICU planning for him to go there after surgery. I’ve seen time after time how vital prayer is on this ship. How miracles happen every day in our operating rooms. How our patients tolerate severe trauma to their bodies only to recover so quickly. Claudio was out of the OR by 2pm and only needed 2 units of blood transfused. They removed a tumor weighing 7.5lbs. One hour after returning to the ward he was wide awake and hitting a balloon around from his bed.

I’ve visited Claudio every day since his tumor was removed and was greeted with a chummy smile each time. A few days ago he was my patient. He acted as if he never had surgery. As if he never had a 7lb weight dragging down his head. For the first time in years, he was able to lie flat on his back. He can’t wait to get back to school and see his friends’ reaction. I asked what they would say and he just laughed and shook his head, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

I am inspired by this boy’s bravery. You know, he never stopped going to school as his tumor grew bigger and bigger? That he withstood the laughs and ridicule from people around because he wasn’t going to let them stop him from living his life.This boy is brave. He is inspiring.

He didn’t let fear have a place. I want to be like Claudio..

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you do.”-Joshua 1:9

 

William

Cold Record!

While we weren't quite frozen like these jeans, it was a bit nippy when Annie and I ran at -15*F yesterday morning - with a windchill of -34*F!  Let's hope this is a "Cold Record" that stands!

Restoring William

Reblogged from "Into the Deep".  
 

Photo Credit Katie Keegan – William and his son at home after his patch is removed.

Photo Credit Katie Keegan – Therese Lovund (NOR) removes William’s eye patch after cataract surgery.

A year ago, I met William, who grew my faith in ways I could have never imagined. I hope he encourages your faith walk the way he has encouraged mine. Here is his amazing story:

William patiently waits as the bandages from his right eye is removed. The 29-year-old sits perfectly still as his eye is wiped clean. He slowly opens his eye as everyone in the room, including his wife and five-year-old son, wait with bated breath. Silently everyone wonders the same thing:  “Did the surgery restore William’s vision?”

Three years earlier William could see just fine. He owned his own business – selling clothes in the local markets. His home life flourished with his wife and a two-year-old son. And then William began experiencing trouble with his vision. At first, cloudiness developed over his right eye. Eventually William could only see shadows. A few months later the same thing occurred in his left eye. William could no longer distinguish one person from the next. He could no longer work.

Photo Credit Katie Keegan – William, at his home prior to his surgery to remove his cataracts

Limited by his disability, William stayed home and contributed by making the meals. His wife, Elisa, worked as the sole provider in their home. At the age of three, his son Unida shouldered the responsibility of being his father’s eyes. Unida would make change at the markets, hail down transport and warn his father of objects in his path. The burdens placed on his wife and son overwhelmed William, who wanted to provide for his family and lead his home.

Photo Credit Katie Keegan – William’s son, Onida, leads him on a walk prior to his surgery to remove his cateracts.

“I suffer in my mind knowing that I have to depend on my son. Here at home, I’m supposed to be the man who takes care of them, but it is the opposite! I’m supposed to be the strength, and now I’m the one who needs help. It’s really hard for me.”

William searched for a cure for a full year. Finally, a physician diagnosed him with diabetes, a condition that affects how the body processes sugar. The damaging effects include the development of cataracts – as in William’s case. Insulin brought William’s diabetes under control, but it could not remove the cataracts.

Local ophthalmologists examined William’s eyes and gave him heartbreaking news – they could remove the cataracts, but the surgery would be very expensive. A surgery would cost William 600,000 ariary (the equivalent of $240 US) per eye. The news devastated William. Without work, how would he ever afford such a costly surgery? The average income in Madagascar is $260 per year (www.wildmadagascar.org).

William was desperate. Then he heard the announcement that Mercy Ships was offering cataract removal surgeries at their eye clinic – at no cost.

Photo Credit Josh Callow – Dr. Ralph Crew (USA) and Dee McCabe operate to remove the cataract from William’s right eye.

As soon as he heard the news, William traveled to the Mercy Ships land-based eye clinic. Dr. Ralph Crew, a volunteer ophthalmic surgeon from the United States, evaluated William’s eyes and approved him for surgery within 48 hours. William rejoiced. He eagerly anticipated his sight returning even before he was admitted for his operation. “Me personally, I am sure. I believe that as soon as they will take it (the bandage) off, I will see!” he said.

Photo Credit Katie Keegan – William can see for the first time in 2 years after his cataract surgery.

Twenty-four hours after William’s simple 20-minute surgery, the Mercy Ships eye team and William’s wife and son gathered together to witness the results. The outcome was evident within seconds. Once the bandages were removed, William’s surgically repaired eye adjusted to the light. He looked around the room, and his eyes rested on his son, his guide for the last two years – a son he had not been able to see.

William flashed a big smile before saying, “I can see my son!”

A mixture of cheers and cries exploded throughout the room. An eye test later revealed that not only could William see, he could see incredibly well – just as he said he would. One 20- minute surgery made possible by donors and volunteers from around the world, along with William’s faith, restored one home in Madagascar.

Before he returned to a house he had not seen in two years, William shared this message for the donors that made his surgery possible:

“I wish them to continue the good action that they do. Those people that they help will never be able to respond to the good things they receive. For example me, I’ll never be able to respond to the good action they do for me, but God will do that.”

Prinscio

Today's post has been reblogged from "Through My Porthole."  To think, we are not happy to be out in this weather, but we should be happy that we can be out!

A deep breath and a pause was required after I noticed the thick, dark callouses on the upper part of Prinscio’s feet. It was emotional to suddenly comprehend what those calluses were.

Prinscio was two when he took his first steps; walking on the tops of his twisted feet. Born with bi-lateral club feet, he developed this curious gait to get around. He was ashamed of the way he moved and he would declare “Don’t talk about my feet!” to anyone who stared. In every other way, Prinscio simply delighted in life. “He does everything with happiness. He smiles with his whole body,” his mother Joceline says.

Prinscio before and after his club foot restoration. Pic Katie Keegan

Within weeks of his birth, Prinscio’s parents tried correcting his condition with Malagasy massage. A dozen ‘healers’ gave them conflicting advice. His parents became deeply discouraged; they had spent so much money and nothing helped.

Three years later a medical specialist told them Mercy Ships was in Madagascar providing the exact treatment Prinscio needed – free of charge.

At his first appointment, volunteer physiotherapists explained Prinscio’s club feet could be corrected by plaster casts, minor surgery, exercises and the use of night-time braces.

The bright little three-year-old enthusiastically helped at his therapy visits saying, “I’ve got to do it!” He chattered about his dreams, “Mamma, when my feet are fixed I will ride a bike and play football. I will be like other kids!”

After eight sessions and a series of eight double leg casts, Prinscio underwent a minor surgery called a tenotomy ( a snip to his Achilles tendon) to attain the last degrees of correction in his feet.

Prinscio’s leg casting. Pic: Justine Forrest

As the day approached to finally remove his casts, Prinscio was beyond excited. His mother overheard him talking to one of his friends, “Tomorrow when I come home, my feet will be just like yours!”

On December 22^nd the casts were removed, revealing beautiful straight feet. Joceline exclaimed, “This is the best Christmas gift ever!”

Large, heavy calluses remain on the upper side of Prinscio’s small feet. It takes a moment to realise these are the ‘heels’ he previously walked on.

Prinscio now stands confidently, flat on the soles of his beautifully restored feet.

Claudio

This is Claudio, a 14-year-old boy who is courageous and brave. Without any hesitation, he walked into the OR room ready to see his life transformed. Five hours later he was free!

And here is Claudio one hour after his surgery - laying on his back for the first time in forever.  Wow!