Today

Today I watched an expert surgeon fix a cleft lip on a tiny three month old baby.  Now she will have the opportunity to gain weight, have a normal smile, pronounce 'P’ words and go to school.  My eyes welled with tears when I began to think of the impact that this surgery could have on her life. 

Today I went for a swim and relaxed in the hot African sun by the pool.  I finished two library books and a bag of peanut M&Ms. 

Today I colored on Deck 7 with some of the A Ward patients and nurses.  Sometimes I forget about the simple joy of putting crayons to a coloring page.  It can be so therapeutic.

Today I had a spontaneous dance party with about forty children and a few friends from across the globe, in one of the poorest parts of Conakry.  The children’s bare feet run along trash filled railroad tracks in a community of Sierra Leonean refuges, living in makeshift homes on the sea.  And for an hour this afternoon, we got to be silly, laugh and play with them.   

Today I ate a dinner of rice with sauce, beans and plantains with good company and conversation.  Tuesday is Africa night on the Africa Mercy and the food is always delicious. 

Today I was kissed by my African grandma, Hasanatu as I tucked her into bed for the night.  Her wound is healing nicely and everyone is praying that she will be ready to go home before the ship sails away.  I am amazed by her loving spirit, even though she really doesn’t want to be in the hospital anymore.    

Today I enjoyed a Starbucks caramel latte to kick start my first of three night shifts.  It was heavenly. 

Today a patient told me that he just couldn’t sleep because he was so happy.  He was happy to be here, happy to finally have the operation to fix his hernia.  He said he could never afford this surgery, and now he is healed.  He was too happy to go to sleep even at 1 am! 

Today was a day of contrasts.  After a few months of living here, I still cannot comprehend the poverty, the joy, the love, the suffering, and the luxuries that surround me.  In one week I will leave the ship, so today I will savor these precious moments and experiences.  I will enjoy my last few shifts, yes even night shifts.  I will let my heart be broken by the injustice of this world.  I will laugh with my Mercy Ships friends who I feel like I've known forever.  I will be saddened by the goodbyes to patients and day workers who will forever be in my heart.  I will likely cry, more than once.  And most importantly, I will continue to thank God for every single moment of this crazy life.