I thankfully received the results of my MRI early this morning. Even though the pain is not in the usual place, the MRI points to Plantar Fasciitis. My doctor gave me a list of things I can do to help the pain with the good news - he thinks it'll go away in ten months, more or less, if I behave!
I called Twin Cities Ortho this morning because I had accidentally erased a voice message and I wanted to make sure it wasn't them calling me (by the way, if it was you, please call back!). I spoke with Deb from Dr. Ebeling's office and she said they had been waiting for the results of my MRI because they hadn't seen them yet - and they would e-mail me the results once the doctor had looked at the MRI.
My next stop was to check e-mails and worker's comp (RTW) had sent me an e-mail - what were the results of my MRI? I told them that TCO hadn't received the MRI yet, but when they did, I would let RTW know what's up.
I came home later this afternoon and checked e-mails again. There was another one from RTW. They had faxed my MRI results to TCO. Why did they have my MRI results and where did they get them from and why were they asking me what the doctor had said when he had never seen them? Truly, what's zup?
After the fall - mine! Not Adam and Eve's - I am glad to report that I mentally feel great! I had my left heel MRI on Friday and am (not so patiently) waiting for the results. I was hoping TODAY would be the day, but alas, it's not, so stay tuned. I hope to have the results some time this week.
Those were my exact words to my supervisor who was lifeguarding this morning as we watched a two-year old boy let go of the pool wall and step off the tot dock into water over his head. Said child is in his second session of lessons and his listening skills have yet to be employed. Mother has never noticed. She is always too busy chatting with her friends. So he stepped off in to water over his head . . . and I rescued him shortly there after and he held on to the wall for the rest of the day.
This post has been reblogged from my friend, Nurse Deb Loudin's blog, "Deb's Heart in Africa." Deb will be leaving the ship at the end of this outreach, having spent six years on board, to return to Australia. I was actually running with her sister in Benin before I met her. We will miss you, friend.
Today I went to the HOPE Centre (Hospital OutPatient
Extension Centre) to join in with their church service. The covered outdoor area was
packed with chairs, filled with patients and their relatives and a scattering
of Africa Mercy crew members. Outside of the covered area were more crew members,
many with patients or little kids sitting on their laps or by their sides. The
weather was cloudy and I had just ridden my bike through the rain to get to
the site. My hair, the front of my skirt and shirt were wet with rain. There
were droplets of water still sitting on my skin as I walked in with a friend to
find a chair.
As instructed we all stood to sing songs in Malagasy
praising God, the words and tunes familiar to me after these past 14 months in
Madagascar. Looking around the area I saw so many familiar faces, almost all
patients I could name, came from my maxillofacial ward and a bunch from other
specialities on board. The patients and caregivers were dressed up beautifully
for church despite the off and on rain. There were shiny shoes and matching
tracksuits on babies, ruffled flower girl dresses on little girls and best
dresses for the mamas and papas. Hearing the singing voices of these people,
already so dear to my heart, raised in praise to my God, just about reduced me
to tears. A wave of emotion washed over me reminding me to treasure this moment,
these voices, this place, these people.
Last week while I was writing the morning ward rounds orders
in the patient charts, I came across the pre-operative photos of a male patient
in his early 20’s who had a massive facial tumour on his jaw. During the first
surgery, the tumour is removed and a metal plate is put in place of the missing
jaw. The tumours on the mandible that we remove are mostly ameloblastoma, a
slow growing benign tumour that eventually cause death by slow suffocation. The
tumour is overgrown tooth enamel that, if found in the western medical world,
would often be able to be removed quickly without major surgery. This man’s
tumour however was massive, I mean, American football sized, coming down off
the right side of his mandible. He’d had a successful first surgery and had
returned three months later for bone to be put inside the jaw to strengthen it.
The bone graft was taken from his hip (iliac crest) and after this healed, he
would not need any further surgery and could hopefully go on and have a happy
and long life.
I had collected the chart from the end of the patient’s bed
as he had just walked into the bathroom, bandage on his face, covering his neat
incision line under his jaw, his face perfectly round and symmetrical. When the
page fell open with his very first pre-op photos on it, I could barely believe
it was the same man. I stared at the photo a while, wondering what he was
thinking when the photo was taken. When he came out of the bathroom I showed
him the photo. He stood there gazing at it. I grabbed a translator and asked
him, “Do you remember how you felt when you had this tumour?” He paused a
moment and replied, “If Mercy Ships had not come, I would have died.” I asked
him if he remembered how he’d felt when the pre-operative photo was taken. He
said, “I was thinking I would probably only have one or two months left to
live.” Yet here he stood before me, three months later, with a beautiful, new, symmetrical,
tumour-free face. He asked me then if he could give his testimony in church
that morning about what God had done. “Yes, yes you can!”
Another patient came over, this one a female, also in her 20’s.
She had had the same procedure to remove a tumour on her jaw and had returned
also for her bone graft. She also had her pre-op photos in her chart which I showed
to her. I asked them both if before they came from their village to the ship if
they thought they were the only one in the world with a tumour growing in
their jaw. They both said yes. I explained that they’d both had the same type
of tumour and the same operations to have them removed and bone grafted. They
were not alone.
Several weeks ago we were able to operate on an 8 year old
girl who had a bifid nose (see the photo below) and hypertelorism (eyes too far apart). The night before
her surgery, I rebraided her hair so that when the surgeons cut her head from
ear to ear (across the top), they would not have to shave off all her beautiful
hair. As I undid her braids she stayed bent over her brand-new colouring book,
enjoying her gift from the Hospital Chaplain team. We talked about her
family, her friends and school.
The following day the operation went really well and her new
face looked beautiful but as per usual the swelling from surgery forced her
eyes closed. The first day post-op, she kept crying, “I can’t see, I can’t see.”
She cried whenever someone touched her without first speaking to her and she
refused to eat.
As the days passed, the swelling began to go down but her
eyes did not yet open. She did begin to eat and we looked for toys that she
could play with by touch and not sight. I put new batteries in the toy
keyboard, much to the annoyance of some nurses, but I knew if I was that
precious girl, I would want something like that.
Eventually the swelling went down enough for one eye to open
and we rejoiced! After approval from the surgeon, I took her into the ICU and
washed and brushed her hair, removing the clumps of shaved off and matted hair
and one of the female day crew redid her braids. She looked so fresh and sweet
afterwards.
Waiting in line to be screened, October 2014
The surgeons making their rounds
Post-op with her sweet grandpa
It’s each of these stories and moments that I treasure. As we
count down the weeks left in Madagascar I want to be counting up the treasures
to be found.
Today's amazing story was reblogged from "Through my Porthole." Enjoy!
Maybe René’s life journey impacted me so deeply because he is so
close to our eldest son’s age. This sweet young man displayed not a
shadow of bitterness over the circumstances of his life. My heartfelt
prayer is that his ‘tomorrows’ look a whole lot different to his
‘yesterdays’.
Rene had never been this far from home before. Pic Katie Keegan
He does not know why his mother left him. René was just five years
old when suddenly he had a ‘new family’, and so many chores he was never
able to attended school – ever. He worked for his keep from that day
forward.
René remembers the moment a friend mentioned his right eye looked
bigger than his left. As he felt no pain and his sight was unaffected,
René just ignored it.
When René was 18 he began to notice pressure behind his eye when he
exerted himself. He told the family, “But they didn’t care,” he explains
softly. He had no money pay a doctor, and no one to help him.
One day followed another until five years passed, and the increasing
pressure behind his eye made working in the fields impossible. “I had no
idea what it was,” explains René. “I was worried something was growing.
I felt like something was pushing, [that] my eye would pop out. When I
rested, the pressure would stop but when I started again, the pressure
would return.”
So René returned to kitchen work, but his eye continued to distort.
Life turned around the day René’s friend shared about a TV program
about Mercy Ships. “This organisation is doing free surgery. They can
help you – there is a free screening.” So together they went, and René
was finally offered the help that had been so far out of his reach.
Rene was blown away by his new look & his xrays
René had a very complex surgery. The slow-growing tumour filled
René’s sinuses, pushed down his throat and into his cranium. This hungry
yet benign growth had relentlessly pushed his eye forward, and would
have continued to expand.
The six-hour operation was performed by Dr Gary Parker, and Dr Mark
Shrime. Dr Gary explains, “This kind of tumour usually starts in the
nose and is corrected with a small operation. But because René didn’t
have access to safe, effective and affordable surgery, it grew into
something very complicated.”
Recovery from the intricate procedure was swift and complete. 25
year-old René can now see clearly, breathe easily, and his headaches are
gone. “The surgery went really well,” he announced. “The tumor won’t
grow back anymore! I am really, really, really happy that the disease
that was bothering my life is gone forever and I am able to work. ”
René has plans for the future. “I’m going back to say thank you, then
go and find work. I’m going to try farming beans, corn and rice for
myself.”
Rene is ready to head into a new future. Pic K.Keegan(For you medical types, the surgery was a medial mallectomy with frontal craniotermy.)
