Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Giving . . .

You’d better find a translator quick – because Hasanatu has a lot to say.

Known affectionately by crew as Mama H, Hasanatu had surgery in January to remove a massive facial tumor. Pull up a chair, and she will tell you all about her favorite food (rice), her four children (boys), her disdain for air conditioning (she’s freezing), her journey here by taxi (prolonged), and her village in Guinea’s interior (it’s that way [points]).

But first, Mama H will tell you that it’s not just the hospital that makes surgery possible – it is the attitude of giving in the heart of each volunteer. Time, money, energy – whatever crewmembers can give, they will give. Because Mama H knows something that most people do not:  the crew of the Africa Mercy serves as the hospital’s blood bank.

Blood banking is an intrinsic part of every hospital system in the developed world – one that requires laboratory equipment, space and highly specialized technicians. On the world’s largest non-governmental hospital ship, there are still limited resources to store blood. But what the Africa Mercy hospital lacks in storage capacity, it makes up for in its steady supply of willing volunteers. Without our crew donors, surgeries like Mama H’s would not be possible.

“When you need clotting factors and platelets, you need the blood to come straight out of one person and right into the next,” Dr. Gary Parker, the Africa Mercy’s Chief Medical Officer, says. “The outcomes of many of our surgeries are possible because the crew is willing to share their blood with our patients.”

Due to the location of Hasanatu’s tumor on her head and neck, excessive blood loss during her surgery was inevitable. Before her operation, a message went out to volunteers with her blood type: “We need you.” Soon, nine Mercy Ships crewmembers had donated blood to ensure that doctors would be able to replenish whatever Mama H might need.

“I remember how excited she was about getting her surgery,” Mar Morales, a blood donor, says. “It is wonderful to be able to say that I contributed to her recovery!”

On the evening after her surgery, Mama H woke up in a hospital bed, finally free of the tumor she had carried for a decade. Emily Seamon – an ICU nurse and blood donor for Mama H – handed her a mirror.
“It was a unique experience, to be a caregiver in this way,” Emily says. “As a nurse, I understood the need for the blood donation and how important it was for Hasanatu … it was wonderful to care for my patient and to be a part of the picture from beginning to end, to see it come full circle.”

When Mama H saw her reflection, she smiled. For the first (and probably last) time in her life, she was unable to find words to say. It was a few days before she was back to her chatty ways. But, when she felt like herself again, she said to tell her blood donors “djarama” – thank you. In return, she would like to teach them Pular, her native language. That way, her stories won’t depend on a translator anymore.

“It’s amazing – so many patients over the years … they’re alive today because the crew of the ship shared their blood,” Dr. Gary says. “I can’t even start counting them now, but there are many, many, people we never would have started surgery on … so I’m grateful for everyone who’s given and who will continue to give in the future.”

Pull up a chair, and there isn’t a Mercy Ships patient who won’t steal your heart. Time, money, energy, blood – being a crewmember on the Africa Mercy means giving it all you’ve got . . . and loving every minute!


Hasanatu’s Blood Donors:
Amber Batson (Ward Nurse, New Zealand)
Esther Blaum (Patient Flow Manager, Germany)
Laura Coles (Ward Nurse, USA)
Mar Morales (Receptionist, Mexico)
Nicole Pugh (Human Resources Facilitator, USA)
Emily Seamon (ICU Nurse, USA)
Kevin Trapnell (Crew Physician, USA)
Lianne van den Dorpel (Galley, The Netherlands)
Josh Young (Sales Manager, USA)

Story by Catherine Clarke Murphy
Edited by Nancy Predaina
Photos by Debra Bell (and interior screening photo by Chris McCaffrey)




Little Jaka


 Today, 9-year-old Jaka is a patient on the Africa Mercy hospital ship, recovering from a free plastic surgery that released her arm and grafted skin. Deep burn marks cover her entire upper body – her head, neck, shoulders, back and arms – but no one notices because they are entranced by the little girl’s adorable gap-toothed smile.
Jaka, nine, fell into her aunt’s cooking fire when she was five years old.  In order to be seen by doctors, the hospital required a payment of 1.5 million Guinea Francs at the gate – just over $200. The family could not afford admission. When her wounds healed, her skin contracted, and her upper arm became stuck to her side.
Dr. Guido Kohler (Germany) and OR Nurse Allison Green (Texas) operate to release Jaka’s burn contracture.
The thing Jaka is most excited about? Her ability to clap!
Jaka and her mother, Fanta, onboard the Africa Mercy hospital ship after Jaka’s surgery. Fanta attributes Jaka’s happiness to Mercy Ships. “In this hospital, I’ve seen peace and joy and love and good luck,” she says.
Jaka and Courtney, a Mercy Ships physical therapist, practice exercises in the hallways of the Africa Mercy.

Bandage changes are part of the healing process.
Jaka is a little girl with a big smile. She loved playtime each afternoon at 2:30 when she was able to go up to Deck 7 for fresh air and a ride in the red wagon.
Sweeping, washing and fighting – these are the activities Jaka says she will get to do with her restored arm. Laundry might not be appealing to many, but participating in household chores is a normalcy Jaka has never known. “I am so happy,” Jaka says. “When I go home, I will work all the time because I can.” (Fanta admits she is glad for this enthusiasm.) Free of her deformity, Jaka will also now be able to go to school for the first time.

Monday, May 27, 2013

That was then, this is now . . .






In 2011 when we had the privilege of serving with Mercy Ships in Freetown, Sierra Leone, 
there was only one place to go for a field trip - Bureh Town Beach.
That was then . . .
 
This is the same area as shown in picture four.
This is s a close up of the area shown in picture four.

This is now . . .

This definitely looks the same, but just around the corner . . .

This absolutely does not - check out all the rocks that have moved into the picture!
 We had friends travel from the ship currently docked in Conkery, Guinea
to Sierra Leone and of course, they had to go to the beach! (:


Sunday, May 26, 2013

Oh, the people you'll meet . . .

Seriously, take a crew of over 430 from over 40 different countries and you will truly meet the most fun and interesting people on a ship called Mercy.  I don't remember when we met Bowie for the first time - it's at least been since Liberia '07.  What garnered my attention that first time was his beard - full of pony tail holders - yes, scrunchies!  Bowie is from the Netherlands.  Read his latest post and get a glimpse of all the fun we will have when we will all gather together in heaven . . .

Last week of this fealdservis coming up. It's strange to belief that we have been her for ten months already.
 
It's bean a lot of work.this spring. Mainly making ducting pipes for the air condition ombord. (the old pipes is rotten away). I also done some work on the reefer compressor for the freezer's.
 
After work I normaly go of the ship meeting up with local friends that I got to know here.So it vill be hard to leav them behind. But life most go on , a new seasen is comming. We are sailing to Gran Canaria and shipyard for maintenes before sailing down to Congo Brazevil were we will continue serving the pore and neady.
 
Sorry no pictures this time =( I got robbed last Tuesday on the dock. It was poring down raining and the power was out, so no light. Two guys comming up to me ,one holding my arms the the other one went in my pocket and got my camera.They got scerd wen I was screaming for help and run away . I run after them for some time but I lost them (it's not always easy to se the African's in the night)
So there my camera went with all my latest pictures =(
 
Dear Father, 
Bless our brother Bowie
with the right camera to replace
the one he had stolen from him.
Amen.  
 
 

Thursday, May 23, 2013

International Day to End Obstetric Fistula

And you just thought it was Thursday, May 23rd!  Nope, around the world, health organizations are recognizing May 23rd as International Day to End Obstetric Fistula.  Not only is this is the 10th anniversary of the UNFPA's Campaign to End Fistula, but also Mercy Ships 10th year of involvement to reduce maternal and infant mortality through fistula surgeries and education.  To read more, go to: 

https://www.mercyships.org/mercy-ships-10-years-of-focus-on-safe-motherhood-in-africa/

and then praise God that you live in a developed country where medical care is available and where it is not common for 13-year-olds to have babies before their bodies are ready!

Never Alone . . .

Laura, one of the nurses aboard the good ship Mercy, posted this yesterday:
 
Scars and strugles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful.

I reflected on those words yesterday as the piano music faded and our nurses and day workers began to share stories of God's goodness and faithfulness throughout the outreach here in Guinea.

"They came hidden under shawls and wraps, eyes dropped in shame.  It has been amazing to see the patients blossom into confidence..."

"There was a certain man who was very difficult when he first came.  He would not eat the food because it had been prepared by Christians.  He would not even eat food from the market if it had been brought by Christians.  But before he left he chased after me and asked for a Bible..."

"We have had some patients who were close to death, but we have not lost even one in our hospital during this outreach.  There is one who almost died who is very happy now...she calls me often and sends her greetings to all the nurses and the doctors."

We've not walked alone these last months, and our patients have not either.  Patients and papas and brothers and cousins stood eagerly Sunday to share with us what God had done for them.  The testimonies went long past the planned close of the ward service and continued - testimonies of past shame and persistent search for help, stories of hope and promise for a future.

A, B, and C ward all stand empty and well-cleaned tonight, and D ward will soon follow.  My last few nursing shifts were a week ago: a busy set of evenings my friend Hannah (and many of my co-workers here) laughingly call "typical Laura Coles shifts." No quiet evenings for me...if I'm working it's pretty much a guarantee there will be excitement of some form or other, whether it's diagnoses of contagious illness, walk-ins, babies with difficulty breathing, pager calls, sending patients off to surgery, or taking restless kids out into the hallway to race each other until night shift arrives.  I soaked it in, savoring each minute of the controlled chaos and thankful for a distraction from the quickly approaching finish line: the end of the outreach, next tomorrow.  It's a bittersweet week, but not a week of goodbyes.

I don't want to say goodbye.

I'll say "see you later" instead, in any way and every language you choose...sampai nanti, au revior, auf wiedersehen, oohwuwo, a go se yu bak.

I've said it over the last few months, to the tiny cleft-whiskered babies with their heart-shaped nasal bolsters and their parents who love them so fiercely.  I whispered it to Kadi as she slept against my heart during ward church Sunday, and when she ran down the hallway her last night here with no pants, giggling hysterically at the nurse chasing her.  I hugged my au reviors to Halima as she shuffle-danced to the beat of her own drum and blew little sideways kisses on my cheek, and to Lamin with his pirate eyepatch and taped-on gloves and too-big surgical mask when he showed up to join in our cleaning shift yesterday.  I sang oohwuwo to Fodi and Nanfadema and Bala and Mariatou with their brand-new faces, their new confidence, and changed lives that lie ahead.

As our patients leave the ship and travel back to homes and villages across West Africa, they will not travel alone.  I pray they would see God's faithfulness and provision, and sing with joy despite their scars and struggles.  I pray their neighbors and families would notice a change and begin to wonder, to ask why the outcast devil baby no longer looks like a devil, and how the curse that caused a face to melt has been reversed.  I hope they ask why there is new life, new confidence, hope and a future...that they would ask and find the answers.

As our ship leaves Guinea and I fly home, I will not be walking alone either.  Never once will I ever walk alone...God is faithful to go before me and with me, so I can lift my hands in confident surrender to sing:
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, I never walk alone.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Here's one . . .

This is nurse Allison's post on ward church this morning.  It was always a privilege to attend!

This morning I attended not your typical church service. There were no pews at this church. Every bed occupied by a patient, crew members on stools between the beds, and chairs crammed across the ward to fit the remaining patients left on the wards. We squeezed as many as we could since today was the last ward church in Guinea. Just a few days ago, I carried Kadiatou, as tears streamed down her face into theatre. Today she found a comfortable spot on my friend's lap and played with us until the service started. 

The dress is always Sunday best for crew, but the patients usually wear hospital gowns. I noticed Marietou, a long-term patient, in a dress and head wrap. She greeted me with a hug and with her new smile. When she was young, her face from her nose to upper lip was destroyed by Noma. After several surgeries, Dr. Gary created her a new face with extra skin and muscle from multiple areas and even a piece of rib to make a nose. It has been amazing to see the transformation the past four months in not only Marietou’s face, but also her personality shining after being shunned for most of her life. Today’s service was special because patients were asked to give their testimonies. So Marietou’s cousin, Jeneba, spoke on her behalf to thank the crew and everyone for changing her life. For taking care of her when no one else could do anything for Marietou. 
 
Next Morali, shared his story that started in Sierra Leone during the civil war. The rebels destroyed his face with glass bottles and placed a padlock in his nose that he carried around for years. Eventually, it was removed, but it had damaged his face so much that he could not breathe without pain. Just this past week, Morali had his final surgery to place temporary tubes in his nose in hopes of breathing again. 
 
The third patient, Thierno, shared that he traveled all over West Africa to find medical help. Theirno was a famous soccer player, so he had the funds to travel and find a dentist to remove teeth that were bothering him. However, the pain and “button” in his mouth started to grow and took over his mouth that he could not even eat. He would try to drink water and most of it would come back out. At screening, he was so frail at 40 kilos (88 lbs) with a tumor that started in his mouth was then threatening his sight as it pushed up on his eye. Thierno stayed on the ward until he was strong enough to have surgery to remove the first tumor and another one just a few months ago. This past week, I brought Theirno into surgery one last time so Dr. Gary could revise his scar and extra skin that once was covering a tumor.
 
Clemetine, our ward chaplain, had asked these three patients to share, but as she tried to end the service, more patients asked to say something. In between a few praise songs, patient after patient stood up and shared their experience on the ship. That God had brought them here and they are healed. A proud papa stood up and held up his son, Lamin. We all know Lamin because he rides he tricycle up and down the hospital corridors. He does pretty well not running over toes even though we had to remove a tumor in his eye. He’s the happiest of little boys on the ward and responds to every “Amen” said aloud at church. 
 
Another papa came to the front and shared with us about his baby son, Junior. My friend Sandra brought Junior and his father to the ship last week from Sierra Leone. I met them on the dock as they arrived and cuddled Junior everyday on the ward. He’s only six months old and has a cleft lip and palate. His grandmother told the father he was a curse because he was causing his mother to be sick and should be sacrificed. Sandra was able to find an orphanage for him to stay until he had his surgery. Last Tuesday, Sandra prayed over Junior at the bench and I brought him in to the OR for Dr. Gary to repair his lip. Today, Ibrahim, Junior’s father, stood in front of us, and said with confidence, “My son is not the devil, not a demon, but a human being.” Patient after patient shared their story of being accepted for the first time, feeling loved and cared for, and even being fed, but most of all they received healing. 
 
As I was trying to listen to all the testimonies and commit them to memory, I noticed the patient in the bed next to me. Hasanatou is the feisty granny on the ward that all of us know well. Hasanatou’s family placed in her a taxi, but it took her several weeks to make the day-long journey. With the help of a stranger, she made it to the ship to have her surgery in January. We are praying to find her family to escort her home. She motioned to the nurse during the service that she was in pain. So instead of a collection plate being passed at this church service, a little medicine cup with a pill was passed to Hasanatou. 
 
The last testimony came from a brother of a patient, Ibrahima. Ibrahima was our last patient to have surgery here in Guinea. Friday night I was on-call so I came back to the OR to take care of Ibrahima. My friend gave me a report and told me it was a miracle that he survived his first surgery to remove the jaw tumor. This was his third surgery and we pray his last as he recovers on the ward. His brother told us many times the family took Ibrahima to the mosque to pray for his life to end, for the misery to end. His mother eventually sent Ibrahima with his brother to find help on the ship. Ibrahima’s brother thanked us for giving him life again. As the ward church finished with one more song, I looked around with a grateful heart at the bandages covering our patients’ wounds and prayed that one day this will be true for each one of them…
 
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 
“Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. 
They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 
‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. 
There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, 
for the old order of things has passed away.”
 Revelation 21:3-4