I have two important pieces of news:
1. Mercy Ships will be featured on the news program 60 Minutes, this Sunday, Feb. 17 at 7:00 pm ET/PT (6:00 pm Wisconsin time!) on CBS. The film crew came last year, and it sounds like they've made a great story about the ship and it's mission. What an exciting way to share what I'm doing with all of you!
2. The other piece of news is that I am home in Brown Deer for a little while. Unfortunately, my aunt Enid is dying and will be going to hospice soon. I found out on Sunday that she was hospitalized, and spoke with some of her nurses throughout the week. Then on Wednesday I was able to be part of a family meeting via speakerphone, and we found out that the doctors do not anticipate that she'll recover. That night, with the help of my bunk mate and friend Gillian, one the ship chaplains, Marty, and my manager, Kirstie, I was able to book a flight and make arrangements to come home. Thursday afternoon I left the ship, and 36 hours later I was at Enid's bedside, visiting with her.
Enid is unable to speak, but has been writing notes to communicate. She told me last night, "This is reality- I have to be ready, and I am, to go." I told her that I am happy because she knows where she is going when she dies- home to her father in heaven. She smiled and nodded and I cried. Before my mom and I left last night, I asked if there was anything I could do, help reposition her or wash her face. Enid wrote, "Just be my niece. My little one. My pudd." Little one and Puddin Head (Pudd for short) are two of her nicknames for me. I am so glad that I could get here so quickly. As much as I felt called to be a nurse in Africa, I was called back to Wisconsin to be her niece.
My plan is to return to Guinea in March. Everyone on the ship was so loving, helpful and supportive.
Enid has had health problems most of her life, but this came on rather suddenly. Please pray for her, my mom and Enid's friends in this difficult time.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
Beauty
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30
One of my coworkers gave me a card before I left for the ship that included this Bible verse. She so sweetly said that she thought the verse described me. What a compliment! But, I told her it's something I feel I need to work on. Before I left for Africa, I started to realize how much stock I put in my amazing good looks and incredible charm. I'm kidding, people! Though, I truly noticed that instead of trusting in the Lord, I was trusting in my quick wits, ability to make friends, education, work experience, and average appearance (after 20 minutes in front of the mirror and an arsenal of beauty products!). According to this Bible verse, beauty and charm are not things that should be praised. My life should be praised for fearing the Lord, and not because of my outward appearance.
Now that I'm here in Guinea, I've been thinking about this a lot. Our hospital takes care of many patients that have been ostracized for their appearance. They have cleft lips, facial and neck tumors, lumps in odd places and too often, they live with the results of devastating noma infections. (For a brief description and some fairly graphic pictures of noma, please click here: nonoma.org). D ward is currently taking care of a woman who is completely missing her upper lip, palate and nose. Can you imagine?
So many of our dear patients have spent a lifetime with a scarf over their face and have missed out on getting married, having families, gaining employment and making friends. They have lived on the outskirts of society. They have been told that they are demon possessed or that they are being cursed for something they've done. These patients have been judged and rejected for one reason- the way they look.
Sometimes my American girlfriends and I would talk about the pressures that society places on women to look_______ (fill in the blank- skinny, beautiful, athletic, sexy, funny, well dressed). I used to think that the obsession with one's looks was a "first world problem." After talking with these patients, I have realized that beauty matters everywhere. It is no different here. Apparently, it was no different in Biblical times. Looks and charm matter in society.
The good news: God doesn't care about these things. Instead, He brings our deformed and disfigured patients to the ship. The hospital staff looks them in the eyes and smiles at them. We include them in card games, in conversation, in crafts and community living. We tell them they are beautiful. The patients interact with one another in a special way, because they are suddenly accepted by a group of people who have had similar experiences. After years of rejection, the doctors, nurses and staff get to show them that they matter. Seemingly overnight, the patients start to laugh, smile and play.
Recently, I took care of a young man who told me that he dropped out of school because he had a noma infection, and he was made fun of. After his father died, the only work he could find to support his little sister was at sea. Now that he had surgery, he told me that he could work in the city and spend more time with his sister. Mercy Ships was able to change his life. Truth be told, most of the patients don't look 'normal' when they leave, there is only so much that surgeons can do. So, I don't think it was solely the young man's changed appearance that made him think he could find better work. It was a change in his attitude and confidence. By showing our patients the love of Christ, we help them see themselves in a new way. We can show them, through our actions, that society doesn't win- beauty is not the most important part of life.
So what about me? I think my priorities are shifting. I am working more and more on representing God instead of my own strengths. My appearance doesn't seem to matter to me as much. Though, sharing a tiny bathroom with five other women is a guaranteed way to stop spending so much time in front of the mirror! It has been humbling to be part of the physical, emotional and spiritual healing taking place on the wards. Every day the patients are teaching me a new lesson in kindness, love and true beauty.
One of my coworkers gave me a card before I left for the ship that included this Bible verse. She so sweetly said that she thought the verse described me. What a compliment! But, I told her it's something I feel I need to work on. Before I left for Africa, I started to realize how much stock I put in my amazing good looks and incredible charm. I'm kidding, people! Though, I truly noticed that instead of trusting in the Lord, I was trusting in my quick wits, ability to make friends, education, work experience, and average appearance (after 20 minutes in front of the mirror and an arsenal of beauty products!). According to this Bible verse, beauty and charm are not things that should be praised. My life should be praised for fearing the Lord, and not because of my outward appearance.
Now that I'm here in Guinea, I've been thinking about this a lot. Our hospital takes care of many patients that have been ostracized for their appearance. They have cleft lips, facial and neck tumors, lumps in odd places and too often, they live with the results of devastating noma infections. (For a brief description and some fairly graphic pictures of noma, please click here: nonoma.org). D ward is currently taking care of a woman who is completely missing her upper lip, palate and nose. Can you imagine?
So many of our dear patients have spent a lifetime with a scarf over their face and have missed out on getting married, having families, gaining employment and making friends. They have lived on the outskirts of society. They have been told that they are demon possessed or that they are being cursed for something they've done. These patients have been judged and rejected for one reason- the way they look.
Sometimes my American girlfriends and I would talk about the pressures that society places on women to look_______ (fill in the blank- skinny, beautiful, athletic, sexy, funny, well dressed). I used to think that the obsession with one's looks was a "first world problem." After talking with these patients, I have realized that beauty matters everywhere. It is no different here. Apparently, it was no different in Biblical times. Looks and charm matter in society.
The good news: God doesn't care about these things. Instead, He brings our deformed and disfigured patients to the ship. The hospital staff looks them in the eyes and smiles at them. We include them in card games, in conversation, in crafts and community living. We tell them they are beautiful. The patients interact with one another in a special way, because they are suddenly accepted by a group of people who have had similar experiences. After years of rejection, the doctors, nurses and staff get to show them that they matter. Seemingly overnight, the patients start to laugh, smile and play.
Recently, I took care of a young man who told me that he dropped out of school because he had a noma infection, and he was made fun of. After his father died, the only work he could find to support his little sister was at sea. Now that he had surgery, he told me that he could work in the city and spend more time with his sister. Mercy Ships was able to change his life. Truth be told, most of the patients don't look 'normal' when they leave, there is only so much that surgeons can do. So, I don't think it was solely the young man's changed appearance that made him think he could find better work. It was a change in his attitude and confidence. By showing our patients the love of Christ, we help them see themselves in a new way. We can show them, through our actions, that society doesn't win- beauty is not the most important part of life.
So what about me? I think my priorities are shifting. I am working more and more on representing God instead of my own strengths. My appearance doesn't seem to matter to me as much. Though, sharing a tiny bathroom with five other women is a guaranteed way to stop spending so much time in front of the mirror! It has been humbling to be part of the physical, emotional and spiritual healing taking place on the wards. Every day the patients are teaching me a new lesson in kindness, love and true beauty.
Favorite part of the day: everyday from 2:30-3:30, nurses take patients to
outside to Deck 7 to socialize and spend time together.
They are incredibly accepting of one another
One of my beautiful patients!
Friday, February 1, 2013
A Ward
When I arrived to the Africa Mercy, I was assigned to work on the A Ward. There are 4 wards- B is for specialties, and right now it is filled with women who have had VVF (Vesicovaginal Fistula) repairs. C is a small unit that is currently used for "hotel" patients, giving them a place to stay until their surgery. D ward has a couple of ICU beds and also receives mainly maxillofacial surgery patients. A Ward is awesome because we get all of it! Right now we are taking care of patients having general surgery but we're also the 'overflow' of the other units. I have been challenged and have learned so much in the last two weeks. So far I've taken care of: kids with cataract surgery, adults and children with cleft lip and palate repairs, adults with VVF repairs, hernia repairs, and lipoma resections. I am really enjoying taking care of the kiddos, but it is a whole different world! My coworkers are so patient, answering my many questions about pediatric nursing.
It's hard not to compare working on A Ward and my experiences at UW Hospital. The nurses work together as a team, same. The nurses are from all over the world and are actually paying to come to work, different. Passing meds, changing dressings, I&Os, walks in the halls, same, same, same. However on the Africa Mercy, many of the supplies are donated, very little gets thrown away and much is cleaned and reused. Med cups, kidney dishes, bedpans- turns out they are all reusable. Syringes are not reused, (I know you're thinking 'Oh thank goodness, that's the same!') However, syringes and certain other types of trash go straight to the incinerator, because otherwise there is a high chance that our trash will be looked through and could be reused and even filled and sold.
One major difference is that the patients are so very grateful to be on the ship. I want to clarify- at home there are many patients that are grateful for the care they receive, but they certainly don't want to be in the hospital. Here, instead of cursing their circumstances, our patients here are happy to have the opportunity to be here. For most of the patients, if there was no ship, they would never receive surgery.
Physically, the hospital looks very different from my unit at home. There are two adjoined rooms of ten beds each. The beds are about two or three feet apart from one another. When a child is admitted to our hospital, they have a caregiver who sleeps on a mattress under the bed. There is no EPIC in Africa, but a paper chart at the foot of every bed.
The atmosphere is very different as well. Looking around the unit, at any given moment there could be a group of patients and nurses playing Jenga or Uno, a patient napping, a breastfeeding mother and infant, a nurse working with a translator to discharge a patient, and one of the chaplaincy staff playing the guitar. All in the same room. All at the same time. To call is chaos would be an understatement. But it's beautiful. I am learning more and more that West African culture values community. The patients don't mind sharing the space. In fact, I've noticed a few times that when a patient is admitted to the ward, all of the other patient introduce themselves. There are times that our translators (day workers) don't speak the same dialect as a patient. Other patients and families might help translate or explain to something to the patient. Our patients make friends, laugh, share and hold each other's babies. It's awesome to work in such a community.
I love my new job. I am still feeling like a newbie, but I am absolutely settling into my role here. It seems as if spending time with the patients and giving them love is one of the most important tasks at work. There's a different pace here, and I have thoroughly enjoyed my time spent just being with the patients. These moments of painting a patient's nails or talking with them is so valuable and I get just as much out of it as I put into it. At home, I normally wouldn't visit a patient on my day off, but here, it's not unusual. In fact, I'm off to do that right now!
It's hard not to compare working on A Ward and my experiences at UW Hospital. The nurses work together as a team, same. The nurses are from all over the world and are actually paying to come to work, different. Passing meds, changing dressings, I&Os, walks in the halls, same, same, same. However on the Africa Mercy, many of the supplies are donated, very little gets thrown away and much is cleaned and reused. Med cups, kidney dishes, bedpans- turns out they are all reusable. Syringes are not reused, (I know you're thinking 'Oh thank goodness, that's the same!') However, syringes and certain other types of trash go straight to the incinerator, because otherwise there is a high chance that our trash will be looked through and could be reused and even filled and sold.
One major difference is that the patients are so very grateful to be on the ship. I want to clarify- at home there are many patients that are grateful for the care they receive, but they certainly don't want to be in the hospital. Here, instead of cursing their circumstances, our patients here are happy to have the opportunity to be here. For most of the patients, if there was no ship, they would never receive surgery.
Physically, the hospital looks very different from my unit at home. There are two adjoined rooms of ten beds each. The beds are about two or three feet apart from one another. When a child is admitted to our hospital, they have a caregiver who sleeps on a mattress under the bed. There is no EPIC in Africa, but a paper chart at the foot of every bed.
The atmosphere is very different as well. Looking around the unit, at any given moment there could be a group of patients and nurses playing Jenga or Uno, a patient napping, a breastfeeding mother and infant, a nurse working with a translator to discharge a patient, and one of the chaplaincy staff playing the guitar. All in the same room. All at the same time. To call is chaos would be an understatement. But it's beautiful. I am learning more and more that West African culture values community. The patients don't mind sharing the space. In fact, I've noticed a few times that when a patient is admitted to the ward, all of the other patient introduce themselves. There are times that our translators (day workers) don't speak the same dialect as a patient. Other patients and families might help translate or explain to something to the patient. Our patients make friends, laugh, share and hold each other's babies. It's awesome to work in such a community.
I love my new job. I am still feeling like a newbie, but I am absolutely settling into my role here. It seems as if spending time with the patients and giving them love is one of the most important tasks at work. There's a different pace here, and I have thoroughly enjoyed my time spent just being with the patients. These moments of painting a patient's nails or talking with them is so valuable and I get just as much out of it as I put into it. At home, I normally wouldn't visit a patient on my day off, but here, it's not unusual. In fact, I'm off to do that right now!
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