October!

The story of a weekend of nightshifts-- In a few unrelated nuggets.

Nightshifts really don’t feel like they do at home. Because we don’t go to work until 10pm, we have ample time to wake up, share dinner with friends, play a few games, and then prepare for work. The other huge difference is that people SLEEP here--- weird right?! I was blessed enough to spend 4 nights with my lovely friend Emily. She and I conquered D ward one night at a time, making plans, coming up with a skit for our friends, crafting, dissecting a siamese banana that appeared on board, listening to tunes, and chatting with dayworkers. All while trying not to wake up patients--- truly tricky stuff. I have also decided that the quieter I try to be is when I am generally at my loudest. It is inevitable that while trying to be quiet I will knock things over, drop things, stumble into inanimate objects, etc. I honestly think I made more paper crafts in the last 4 nights then I have in awhile. 

The Siamese Banana-- It was two fused together in one skin!

Our ward is now beautifully decorated in paper chains, paper hats, paper figurines, and snowflakes (thanks Andrea)--yes- its cold enough she was inspired to make snowflakes! It looks simply beautiful! I think that half the reason we all decided to start decorating the unit was that we felt so empty after the kiddos left. We can connect with adults, and get close to them, but at the end of the day its just not the same. I just keep saying that with a kid you can run around, pull them up on your lap, snuggle them, and they can feel your love by just wrapping your arms around them. I can’t exactly do that with grown men. Even though I do care for them its obviously much harder to show it with the language barrier. I mean don’t get me wrong,  I am thrilled that all the kids are one step closer to home and restarting life, but we feel that void so greatly. I have been to the Hope Center every couple days to see them, to play with them, to hug them, and just BE with them. They have become like family. Each time we go to the Hope center the moment we round the corner into their view it’s like a welcome home party. They are yells, jumping, clapping, and kiddos breaking through the gate and rushing into our open arms. The Hope Center, is located on the lower level of a building in the middle of the local hospital compound. It truly is a single gem in the middle of a dusty mine. It’s such a bittersweet experience. The reality for OUR patients and the patients that have no where else to go here in West Africa are so very different. How this arrangement works is that Mercy Ships asked for a space somewhere nearby the ship in every field service. We renovate the whole thing, use it for 10 months and then at the end they get it back brand spanking new. New paint, lights, floors, windows, doors--the whole nine yards. Because of this we are in this little bubble but all around us people are literally dying on the pavement. The other day I heard someone screaming out in agony. It was heart wrenching. When walking through the compound you can look in the window frames (no glass) and see the people basically laying in shower stalls.  We see dead bodies being wheeled out on stretchers, people begging for help.........its crazy and it wrecks my soul. The healthcare system here is insane, and one of the worst parts is that people just accept it. Just like everything else Its not culturally appropriate to rebel, and to put up a fight, they just take what life gives them and figure out how to deal. Even though it can be hard I keep going back- pulled as if by magnetic force to these people. In a place that is constantly changing, these few hope center friends are the patients and caregivers with whom we have had the longest. The ones who have touched OUR lives, and have changed our hearts. I cannot tell you how overjoyed my heart is when I even think of them. I’m attaching a few pictures of them so you can see their beautiful faces. 

"H" and her Mama

"H" suffered burns to her face and arm when she was 2 years old from a candle--she had 2 skin grafts during her time with us. She is the funniest little dancer I know. (She's the kiddo who picked up English)

"L" and his Poppa-- you can see why his smile is infectious and he's my favorite right?

Some of the ladies

H's Mom and L a tad grumpy after a dressing change

Little Mr. "M". We repaired some scars that had contracted after previous surgery to repair a facial birth defect. He kind of always has this look on his face--a tad suprised. He is a little spit fire!

 A highlight to night #4 was the blind man in bed 10. This man I swear to you was trying to navigate the brand new environment by sonar. He would get up, out of bed, and somehow make it to the center of the room before beginning clapping and shuffling his feet. At the beginning of the shift I was shocked at his gumption to just bolt around a new place. I quickly cleaned all of the stools out of his path, hoping to not cause a fall. After that each time we heard a clap we all jumped up running over to help him find the restroom. His 15 year old son soundly sleeping under his bed is his sole caregiver. He takes such care for him, making sure he knows where everything is- setting him up for meals, showers, etc. He lost his sight in 2006 over a period of just 2 months. I can’t imagine being in the light one day, and the next all you saw was darkness. He is having a biopsy done of a large oral tumor, we will soon find out if we can help him.....I really pray that we can help this sweet man. To change his life, to give him a chance at his 50’s and beyond..

This week my patient from bed 13 in my last blog was able to go home. It was quite an ordeal getting him there, but he made it. He moved to another ward a few days ago in order to make room for other max/fax patients who were heading to surgery. I visited him often, and he said several times how much he missed our ward. Through talking to him I realized that upon discharge, he really didn’t have a plan as to how he was getting home. He had no money, no idea of where to catch a bus, or even the timeframe for catching a bus. He said that it may be “small difficult” to find his way but that he wasn’t worried. The more I heard from other people about his journey here it turns out that it was more than “small difficult”. He actually arrived in Guinea unsure of where to go. He spend 2 days wandering around the city, sleeping on the streets-completely unable to speak any of the languages. He eventually found a Chinese shop owner who spoke a few words of English. He got some general directions as how to get to the port, and by the grace of God a Mercy Ship crewmember found him and brought him to the ship. Could you imagine wandering in a foreign land for two days, searching and praying that someone would speak your language and be able to direct you to the “big white ship”. By realizing all of this, I was so insanely convicted that we couldn’t just turn him loose and expect him to find a way home.  After about 4 hours of me and a friend advocating, calling people, asking around, and coming up with a plan--we figured out a way to get him back to his country. At 10 pm the night before he left we told him the plan and he had tears in his eyes. We got up the next morning early, ready to begin the trek to get him on the proper bus after a few taxi rides across town. We packed a lunch, and snacks then we headed into the ward and wallah! Someone had listened to our cry for help and decided to do the right thing. He was going to go to the Hope center for the weekend and on Monday Mercy Ships would arrange all the transport and pay for it. I have so much praise that it all worked out, but the whole process was hard, emotional, and one of those "weight of the world" moments......I got a note from him today passed through another patient and it brought tears to my eyes. He said that he thanked me for all I had done, that he would never forget me, and that he prays God’s blessing over my life and my path. He said that he hopes I will never forget him....I can promise that-I will never ever in a million years forget bed 13.

 To end this blog on a high note I can share with you all that my FAVORITE patient in the whole wide world came back yesterday morning to have the stitches removed from his eyelid. I know that your not supposed to have favorites, but I do. I am simply in love with both him and his wonderful caring poppa. I have seen him at least every 3 days lately by making visits to the hope center, and now for some more time he is back in the ward. He arrived Monday night, but he was already asleep by the time I got to work at 10pm. After lots of hugs with poppa I decided I would just have to wait for him to wakeup. I selfishly kind of wished he would wake up in the middle of the night--but he didn’t. So at 6 am when he FINALLY woke up I was like a kid on Christmas. He had to take his pre-surgery shower, but before that happened his Dad carried a sleepy little boy to me and said “look who it is! Auntie Annah here!”. My. Heart. Melted. I held him for a few minutes then passed him along to the shower. When he got out he was crying-- there he stood, shivering, buck naked, weeping. After finding him some clothes I bundled him onto my back in a “bumba” which basically means he was tied to my back kind of in a piggy back position completely hands free so that I can do nursing work, but still warm him up. His poppa was laughing at us, smile spread across his face. I mean we were quite the team doing morning vitals and prepping people for surgery. He was burrowed in, but after a while and his core temperature raised he morphed back to his usual playful self. As I walked past Emily he reached out and SLAP, he got her in the back squealing with laughter. Emily and I took some time running around playing tag ( with L still tied to my back) it was pure bliss. His joyful face just makes my week. Even now as I am writing this I just got back from visiting him on the unit. My heart might burst with joy...

 Highlight of my Wednesday is that tonight we had family dinner. After a long day of walking around Conakry hitting up the market for vegetables and visiting the super market for the necessities the cooking began. It was a wonderful night of cooking, laughter and fellowship. The day was really fantastic too! It’s a super chaotic, hot experience in the markets here. Walking down the paths its pretty typical to be surrounded by women balancing things on their heads, the days catch either cooked or raw (eyeballs, scales, and all) fruits and vegetables lined up next to brooms and clothes, flies everywhere. Add a good helping of mud on your feet and my friend that is an African market... overwhelming and wonderful--I. love. it! 

Some of the family dinner crew

Last tidbit for the day. Pat (Emily’s Husband) got an email today from ABC asking to buy rights to one of his songs for one of their primetime shows! Hoooray for Pat!  Did I mention he was in a band in Washington State? The band is Mon Cheri--check them out!