My Little Shadow

"My Little Shadow" was reblogged from Nurse Jenny's blog, "Shine Bright". 

 

At 3 years of age, she fell into a fire severely burning her right hand and wrist. Without money to go to the local hospital, her family turned to a Catholic nun nearby for help. Over time, her skin did heal but not without contracting so tightly that her wrist was forced into a bent position and her fingers fused together making them essentially unusable.

Then, they heard about Mercy Ships providing free surgeries and there was hope. This 4 year old little girl and her older brother left their family and traveled for 4 days across Madagascar to the ship for her surgery. They trusted that these white people who didn’t speak their language could possibly heal her arm.

When I first took care of Sasimeny, it was a few hours after her surgery. She lay in her bed, in and out of sleep from anesthesia. Even though she never complained of pain, her grimaced face and the giant tears rolling down her cheek showed evidence of the major surgery she’d just gone through. But she obediently sat up and swallowed every bad tasting medication and tolerated our constant poking and prodding that interrupted her rest. All the while, her brother sat next to her bed patiently stroking her hand and speaking words of comfort that would mean more than anything my English ones ever would.

The first few days are always the worst. That’s what we tell our patients before their operations. Then things get better.

For a while, we all believed Sasimeny was shy and quiet. She kept to herself, coloring in bed or watching the movies that came on TV twice a day. Across the room, there was another 4 year old girl who had surgery around the same time, but she was not shy at all. Variela loved to play and be held by the nurses (and argue with her dad about taking medicine!). Sasimeny would watch from a distance as we played balloon toss or built Lego towers on the floor. Then one day, as I sat holding Variela, Sasimeny reached out to be picked up too. I guess the vazhas (white people) aren’t so bad, now are they? From that moment on, Sasimeny and I have been inseparable.

Sasimeny (right) and her buddy Variela

Now, I call her my ‘little shadow’ because about 95% of my working hours she spends in my arms or very close by. She is a completely different little girl – playful, vibrant and full of life with a bit of a stubborn streak we assume comes from being the baby in a family of 6 older brothers! Some have given her the nickname ‘Sassy’ and it fits well. We taught her to play Jenga, blow bubbles and cover her face in stickers. But her favorite thing is being carried up and down the hallway snuggled in someone’s arms. Occasionally, I force her to walk which usually turns into us racing down the hall holding hands. Secretly, I don’t really mind. She’s been in our hospital now over 50 days and rarely spends a moment in her bed unless she’s sleeping.

Sassy and her balloon with another nurse, Kayla.

One day soon, Sasimeny will leave our ship and move to the Hope Center to wait for several weeks of outpatient appointments and rehab before she can go home. While the surgery we did here will make it possible for her hand to move again, it’s the months of rehab and exercises after the skin heals that will allow her to use it to its full potential. And that really is the goal. Her right arm will never look completely like the left one again. But hopefully, with lots of practice she will be able to pick up a ball, hold a pencil and carry a bowl. Someday, she will be able to go to school and learn like the other kids. And years from now, she will be able to get a job or care for her children. All things that would have been more difficult or impossible without this surgery.

I can’t deny that I won’t be a tiny bit sad when my little shadow walks (or, let’s be honest, gets carried) up the stairs and down the gangway off the ship. She is only 4 years old and will probably not remember much about her time here. But I hope I will never forget her beautiful face or big, inquisitive brown eyes. As much as I hope she will have memories of nestling into my shoulder after running around Deck 7, it’s a tough reminder that this is not about me. My job is to love each patient and take care of them while they recover from surgery – their job is to use the life we’ve restored to its fullest potential! And I have no doubt that Sasimeny will do just that.