A Sneak Peek into Sunday's "60 Minutes" ...

Before you read this, let me do a "personal status" report.  We were able to talk with Dr. Gary Parker our first day back on the ship last summer (he left for the summer shortly thereafter) and he and Matt stood back to back with Gary still coming out taller.  Ali was already home on maternity leave when we arrived, but her husband Phil lived just two doors down.  We were able to share some meals with him and he carried our suitcases up the stairs when we left to return home.  

Few have changed the lives of people the way the volunteers on the Africa Mercy have. Serving aboard the world's largest civilian hospital ship, they have restored sight to thousands of people suffering from cataracts and returned smiles to victims of facial tumors and cleft palates whose deformities made them social outcasts. Scott Pelley goes to Togo on Africa's West Coast to report on the Africa Mercy ship's patients and the dedicated doctors and nurses who have made the ship and its mission a way of life. Pelley's report will be broadcast on 60 Minutes Sunday, Feb. 17 at 7:00 p.m. ET/PT.

The Africa Mercy spent five months docked in Togo, where its staff removed 281 tumors, repaired 34 cleft palates and restored sight to 794 cataract patients who had been blind, some for decades. Maxillofacial surgeon Dr. Gary Parker left his native California and UCLA where he trained and volunteered for what he thought might be a temporary assignment removing facial tumors and performing other procedures on Third World patients. That was 26 years ago. He has since married his wife, whom he met onboard, and raised two children on the ship, all along transforming the lives of people, some of whom could literally not show their faces in the light of day.

"These are people that go out at night and they forage for food and then, in the day, they hide," Parker tells Pelley, about those horribly deformed by benign facial tumors. "They can't go to market...school. They are isolated."

To nurse Ali Chandra of New Jersey, the work they do helps to humanize those deemed inhuman through no fault of their own, whose maladies are often blamed on curses or evil spirits. Asked by Pelley what she would say to those in her profession who would be unable to work with such disfigured people, she answers, "People have been saying that to these people their whole lives and someone has to look them in the eye and tell them 'you're human and I recognize that in you.'"

A four-year veteran, Chandra also met her spouse onboard -- a fairly common scenario that has earned the ship another name, "the Love Boat" -- and plans to stay awhile, perhaps, like Parker, raising her family onboard, sending them to the ship's school and vacationing periodically in the U.S.

She is quite content with her life. "I miss strawberries and I miss fresh milk and I miss my family -- not in that order," she tells Pelley. "You have no idea how awesome this life is. I get to see the world...take care of incredible people. Why would you want to live in a house on land? This is way more fun," says Chandra.

 

© 2013 CBS Interactive Inc. All Rights Reserved.

A Pink Post for Valentine's Day!

Photo by Debra Bell

Meet Hasanatou from the hinterlands of Guinea. 

I first saw her a few weeks ago in our maxillofacial ward. I was there to visit a patient in an adjacent bed, but couldn't help noticing those beautifully painted pink nails!  

You might be wondering what causes a giant tumor such as this? But where Hasanatou comes from, the question is not what caused her tumor, but rather, who caused it?  Here, suspicion, distrust and fear are the constant companions of those suffering from disfiguring disease. Was she cursed? Were the ancestors unhappy with her behaviour? What terrible act did she commit to bring such a thing  about? Over time, as the tumor grew, Hasanatou felt herself pushed further and further towards the fringes of her community, until one day it seemed as if she were no longer human.  

Which brings me back to the pink painted nails. 

Hasanatou spent a couple of days, prior to being admitted, at our Hope Center about a mile down the road from the ship.  The Hope Center is something like a youth hostel for our patients who come from outside the capital city of Conakry, where we're docked. The Hope Center was renovated and is staffed by our crew -- so that patients who arrive early for surgery, or need to stay post operatively for physiotherapy or further healing will have a safe and clean environment in which to wait.

It seems that one of our crew members at the Hope Center had painted Hasantou's nails bright pink while she waited for her surgical date.  Someone thought she was in need of a little nail polish.  Someone thought she was worth it. 

I remember when I was first married I read an article about Mother Teresa in a British newspaper. The column had a hard, cynical edge to it. In essence the reporter wanted the reader to know that Mother Teresa was wasting her time picking up half-dead beggars from Calcutta's streets and providing them with a clean and safe environment in which to die.  "What good is she doing?" he asked.  "She doesn't have a medical degree.  She can't make them well.  She isn't involved in training or development or capacity building of any kind.  The world is no better for the work she does.  What difference does it make?"

What difference does it make?  Ask Hasanatou.

Because sometimes the difference between being shunned and feeling human is found in a bottle of bright pink nail polish.

Story by Susan Parker

60 Minutes!

Just before Matt and i joined the Africa Mercy in Lome, Togo, last summer 60 Minutes had been there!  Here's the promo:

 

On Sunday, February 17, the CBS television program 60 Minutes will air a segment about Mercy Ships and our mission to bring hope and healing to the world’s forgotten poor. The feature on 60 Minutes allows us to share our story with a national audience. It also gives you an opportunity to share your Mercy Ships experience with those in your own circle of influence.

The hour-long program begins at 7 p.m. Eastern & Pacific Time and 6 p.m. Central Time on your local CBS station.

The best thing to do . . .

when bed head is bad!

Dishwashers are . . .

So overrated when you have a dog!

Binta's Journey

What could possibly compel a poor woman in West Africa to travel over 1000 kilometers – a journey that would take six months and exhaust all of her resources and ingenuity – to get to a hospital ship? The answer is stark in its simplicity – the journey was born out of a desperate, fragile hope that she could find healing and restoration.

Binta lives in southeast Guinea. Six months ago, a man in her village told her about news he had heard on the radio – a hospital ship was coming to the nation’s capital, Conakry. “The ship has doctors that can help you,” the man said.

Binta is in her late thirties and has suffered from vesicovaginal fistula (VVF), a devastating childbirth injury, since she was a teenager. During several days of prolonged, obstructed labor, Binta’s baby was stillborn during a traumatizing delivery. The injury to her birth canal made Binta incontinent; she has been continuously leaking urine for years. Her condition made her an outcast within her own remote village. But now there was news that she could be “fixed” and she dared to hope.

With the little money she had, Binta set out on her journey.

She traveled from her village in the dense rainforest region to the city of Senko. Once there, she used what little money she had to pay for transportation to the next city – Beyla. It was her first time to ever ride in a car.

From Beyla to Nzerekore to Macenta to Gueckedou to Kissidougou to Conakry – a blur of new sights and sounds. She stopped when she had to, staying in one city for up to two months where she worked doing laundry to save enough money for the next leg of her journey. She paid people with cars or motorbikes to give her a lift. Binta traveled more than 661 miles (1063 km) in 6 months to seek help from Mercy Ships.

Finally, she arrived on the dock – with no money and only the clothes on her back. “It was something inside of me that told me, ‘Do it!’” Binta said. The Africa Mercy is the first ship she has ever seen.

 

Last week, Mercy Ships volunteer surgeon Dr. Steve Arrowsmith repaired Binta’s fistula. Today she is dry. She no longer leaks urine; she no longer smells. And now, Binta longs to return home to her sister’s children, triplets, whom she has cared for since her sister passed away in 2011. Because there are no phones there, Binta hasn’t spoken with her family since she left. Fortunately, she will get home to them soon – a much simpler journey this time, with assistance from Mercy Ships.

And Binta will return home with a dry skirt, a full heart and a new life.

Happy Groundhog's Day!