An African Adventure: A farewell to T....

Wednesday was one of the most bittersweet days I have had since I have been here. T was discharged to the Hope Center. During rounds Dr. Gary told him, “well- I think you are going to go to the Hope Center today!” Dr. Gary obviously thought it was a joyful thing to say. As Dr. Gary moved on there were tears on T’s face, I had tears in my eyes, and all of us echoed with a “are you sure?” We all knew it was coming soon, but it was still a shock. It is so hard to watch this man, who we have come to love and adore just walk out----healed, changed, made new. T drug his feet getting ready, I had to tell him to put on his street clothes, and he kept saying he was going to miss us all so much. His eyes were a mix of sad and happy, and it’s a look I will never ever forget----painful joy. His mother on the other hand was estatic! She was so excited to get out of the cold air-conditioning and get that much closer to home, she kissed us all goodbye as she had every morning and every night since they arrived, packed up all the stuff, thanked us, and was ready to go. All the patients, nurses both those on shift and off, dayworkers, housekeeping staff, and anyone else touched by T had a massive send off. Sam from patient life lead about 30 of us in several songs to celebrate his miraculous recovery. What a site we were, clapping, singing, and praising God for his healing hand. T still has some progress to make, his trach and feeding tube sites must heal, and the skin on his face will continue to shrink back to normal over the next year. But his life has been changed, he has been saved from death, and he has a new license on life. I asked what his plan is next and he replied with a simple, I’m not sure yet, I guess I’ll go home and figure it out. As time goes on, as he regains his life and goes back to things he enjoys a few things will stay with him forever. He will always carry scars as a reminder of his past, his time with us, and the love he felt on this big white ship. He will have a scar on his stomach to show where we had a tube when he couldn’t eat. He will have a scar on his neck where we gave him air, and a few scars on his face where we removed the tumor that would have killed him. He leaves us with not only the obvious physical changes but having lived for over a month in a place where people genuinely loved him, cared for him, and poured into his life every single day. I can’t wait to see him grow over the next few months and to see the path that God has planned for his beloved child. As we marched him outside carrying all the bags of stuff he has acquired, and a box of 24 cans of ensure (supplement for only 3 days)-- we looked like a parade fit for a king. The LandRover was jam packed with people heading to the Hope Center, but the workers happily placed him in the front seat, the seat of honor, and as he was driven away my heart was overflowing. He waved until he was out of site, motioning Mercy---”thank you”. But I wish he understood how much gratitude I have for him. I thank him that just by living he has shown me things in my life, I thank him for pulling on my heart, showing me what true striving looks like, and putting it all in perspective. Just as he has been changed by this big white ship, so have I. Even though my transformation is not outwardly visible, and I don’t have physical scars from this time here, my life has been changed. I will remember him forever, his story has touched so many here in Guinea, and reached you all on another continent--all of this he has done completely unaware and without intention, but just by his life. I need to mention that I have seen him twice since he left for the Hope Center, and I will see him tomorrow--but I acutely miss him, his smile, and his presence on the ward...Here is a small tribute to T, pictures we took just 2 days before left the ship for the Hope Center, and the next phase of his life.