Life in photos

This is "M" a patient who I took care of back in week 1 who returned for her second surgery

What a cute little peanut!

Don't let this cute little munchkin fool you---he is trouble

Mr. A who has been with us since September may be heading to the Hope Center in the next few weeks!

Before shot of B with Dr. Gary, Dr. Thomas and Jonathan our best housekeeper 

After shot of B with Deb

Yes, that is T...and yes, he has gained almost 20kg since we first met

Grandma H before her surgery

Cleft Baby!

My friend Jen and I were walking home from the market 2 weeks ago and I heard "Annah!", turned around and this lovely young man was standing there, beaming--happy to show off his newly healed lip. (He was getting a new haircut)

Emily, Pat, S, and his momma. This is the most epic "blood brothers" picture I have ever seen. These two will be forever connected by that gift

Halfway...

So here we are, a tad over halfway through this outreach. Every day joy happens here, lives are changed, and human spirits are touched. It’s been an amazing stretch marked by so many wonderful patients, caregivers, dayworkers and volunteers. When I say that lives are changed I don’t mean just our patients, but ours also. We have given up families, friends, and lives at home to be here, and it isn’t without reward. I have made some amazing friends to share this season of my life with, and I am changed every single day by their love, encouragement, friendship. The patients have taught me more in the past 5 months then I could have ever imagined. I have seen these people hurt, witnessed heartache, come to know the faces and hearts of those who have been abandoned by their families and communities for something out of their control, witnessed their longing for love, their faces in joy, triumph, and sadness. I have cried alongside them and celebrated with them. I have been a part of surgeries that I never thought would have been possible even in the western world. I have seen 4 different patients have their whole bodies blood volume replaced with that of crew-members. I have watched beautiful children and adults faces as we tell them that we unfortunately cannot help them, and I have had to give that all over to God. I have learned so much about Him since planting my feet on West African soil. His constant provision, His love, His character, His grace, and His hand on my life and those around me. As we pass this halfway mark it is bittersweet. I have watched friends come and go with little pieces of my heart. I have watched people walk away from the ship defeated, holding only the fact that there is no help for their physical problems, and I have watched patients miraculously heal and head home ready to start their lives over. New--healed--changed. Several of them have been patients who came to the ship as a last resort, death staring them in the face and fought a good fight. I have seen the lips of both babies and 50 year old women repaired, tumors removed, legs straightened, VVF’s repaired, and sight restored. 

This past week my heart has constantly felt on the edge of breaking, like a damn just on the brink of overflowing. Trying to narrow down what exactly those feelings are, I’m honestly not quite sure. It’s this mix of insane love, joy, sadness, excitement, anxiety, and a whole other hot mess of emotion. It’s that feeling you get in your gut when you know things are about to change, but this time in a bigger way. Again, friends are leaving that I have literally spent every single day with for the last five and a half months, but it’s also mixed with my decision to stay. Yes, you heard me correctly-- After much prayer I have decided to stay in West Africa for two extra months and see this field service to a close. I am going to sail away from this place with the ship, seeing a whole outreach start to finish. It feels exactly right, but it’s not without a price. I will miss things at home. I have missed weddings, engagements, relationships starting and stopping, birthdays, everyday happenings and holidays. This decision means that I will continue to miss both small and big life moments. I will miss the birth of a very special little guy--Jonah Edward. I will miss concerts, camping trips, meals with friends, and the start of my very favorite activity of summer: Our Mission St. Louis summer sports camp/block party. I am missing out on sharing daily life with important people who mean the world to me. But I have to put all those cups of coffee, craft nights, and dinner dates on hold for a few more months, because even with all of that laid out in front of me, I still know that God is calling me to stay. I need to finish what I have started here, I need to finish out this season of my life. This part of me aching to serve His people here, that is pulling me to breathe in every single minute of the dirty Guinea air and that is overflowing my heart with joy. As hard as it is to say, and as selfish as it somehow feels. I have to do this for me. I have to trust that he is providing love and companionship to people at home, and that this is my time to fly. This is my time to figure out who I am and how I fit in this world. Figure out what makes me tick, what makes me, me. As crazy as it feels, this place truly is the perfect fit for me. I would do this job every day for the rest of my life and love every single second of it. The idea of going home to find a job that is simply mediocre in comparison is depressing, but how can I possibly recreate this at home where we have so much? Where we expect our medical care to be taken care of and consider it a right. Where we always have clean water, have eradicated malaria and cholera, have both the education and ability to carry out a healthcare system. My next step in this world, and the answer to these questions I don’t know, but what I do know is that I have until June to figure them out. Because of the love and support I have been shown by my family and friends who have chosen to support me, I’m not coming home--but staying to continue serving in my new home, the place I get to change lives every day, the place where my heart just fits.....

Here are the numbers of our service up here in Guinea since screening day: 

Mercy Vision

Cataract Surgeries 743

Pterygium Surgeries 45

Eye Evaluations 11,496

Distribution of Glasses 1,242 (UV, reading, or prescription glasses)

Routine Eye Exams 508

Outlook of Hope

Maxillofacial Surgeries 241

Cleft Repair Surgeries 88

Reconstructing Hope

Plastic Reconstructive Surgeries 18

VVF/RVF  40

Specialized Surgical Solutions

General Surgeries  127

Orthopedics

Orthopedic Surgeries 116

Ponseti Clubfoot Corrections 51

Palliative Care

Provide Home-care for Terminally Ill 22

Guinea Smiles

Dental Care - tooth decay infection removal 50,546

Clinical Dental Hygiene Services 418

Hospital Chaplaincy

One on One Counseling Sessions 2,061

Bibles Distributed 88

One on One HIV Counseling Sessions 315

Mercy Ministries

Partner Ministry Site Visits 148

Crew Participation Opportunities 1,209

Just take a minute to read those numbers again, and think about a face to match each one...To those of us with the privilege of being here they aren’t numbers, but people who we have come to know and love, people who have had a part of their life changed. 

Thank you for your constant support and love........

He provides......

This past weekend I began night shifts. Heading in to a stretch of four, I was honestly feeling tired but ready to get them over with. The previous week was an exhausting one on the wards with 2 ICU patients, several crew admissions for IV fluids, and the usual ridiculous awesomeness that is working in the MaxFax ward of a hospital ship...It’s funny having come from working full time nights for 2 years that I would dislike night shifts so much. I guess once you get your body back on a normal person schedule, it gets stingy for normalcy and the switch back to the nocturnal life is just that much more difficult. As it was, I headed into night 4 knowing that we had one of our VVF ladies in the ICU. I came into the shift with my running shoes and thinking cap on, just in case. This shift started off great, just one other nurse and myself for our 10 patients. About 2am my friend Beth stopped by, just to chat--she said she was laying in her bed unable to sleep and felt like she really needed to come say hi. (She returned to the ship on the 19th, after spending about 5 weeks at home over Christmas.) We hadn’t had a proper deep stuff catch up conversation, so we spent a few minutes chatting about life. I was also asking her opinion on a sick kiddo that we have (because she is one of the most brilliant nurses I know) when all of a sudden the nurse who was on shift with me starts vomiting, everywhere. I knew that I couldn’t ask her in between her retches to stay to finish out her shift, she was miserable, but I really didn’t know what the answer was. I paged in to the on call supervisor to find out what we should do, because as much as I wanted to and would be wiling to try to, I knew that I couldn’t take care of a legit ICU patient and 9 other patients. That’s when it happened, Beth-with a smile on her face said, “I’ll just go change and be right back”. I couldn’t believe it--I asked on a scale of 0-10 how serious are you right now? “A 10, I promise!” she replied. This girl came down to talk to me about life, and ended up pulling an all night shift on no sleep and jet lag, just to help out a friend. She saved me that night, and without her I might have just sat down on the floor and cried like a big ole overwhelmed baby. The next morning as we headed into our cabin to sleep for a few hours our friends asked us how our night was, and that’s when my bunkmate and bestie Jen said--”I woke up at 3 am feeling like I needed to come check on you and it took all I had to stay in the bed.” So there it is, once again, God provides. He put me on the peoples hearts in the necessary proximity to make sure I made it through the night caring for HIS children. He didn’t leave me high and dry, but thoroughly cared for. He has constantly and blatantly taken care of me not just over these last few months but my whole life, even when I wasn’t aware of him, when he honestly wasn’t a fleeting thought on my brain, or I wasn’t even keeping him on the fringe of my daily comings and goings. He has always been there there, and will always be there-orchestrating my life, and caring for me, even at 230 am........

That's what I call teamwork....

Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I woke to the sound of the overhead alarm....”Attention all crew, would the emergency medical team please report to A ward immediately”. Disoriented I jumped out of bed and threw on a jacket and met many other people in the hallway, all walking very quickly in the same direction. This was the first EMT call of the outreach, and we all knew it must be serious business. Reaching the door to the ward it was obvious many people had it under control. Unsure of the exact situation, I headed back down the hall to begin prepping the ICU. A few minutes later, handing over supplies to a fellow nurse I found out that a post-op patient had begun bleeding which was occluding his airway and he needed help very quickly. I am in awe that literally within a minute of the call our amazing team was in the room and work had begun. The nurse had caught it at the perfect moment and the anesthetist and surgeon made quick decisions. The patient was rushed back to the OR within 10 minutes of the call. Less than 30 minutes later I was back in my bed adrenaline rushing through my system. I began praying for this patient, and his life which I knew was in very capable hands. Laying in my bed praying, I realized that there were probably anywhere from 5-400 people doing the same thing. Some nurses and doctors, but others teachers, chaplains, engineers, deck hands, and office staff. All united in that moment, praying for a person we didn’t know. Asking God for protection, that Dr. Shrime was able to repair the bleed, and ultimately asking for this patients life. Talking with key players after, it seems that everyone was in the perfect place at the perfect time. Even though we all awoke at 2:45am to the same shrill “ding-dong” people reacted quickly. I was able to care for this patient yesterday, less than 12 hours after his life was in jeopardy, and just about 5hours after he was able to be taken off the ventilator. He was doing amazing--stable and back to room air and today even made the journey up to deck 7 for some sunshine. Today, like so many others, I am so grateful to be where I am. To live and work on this beautiful hospital ship, in a community that is united--even in the middle of the night, joining together to save a life.

The Dalaba Express III

 Tuesday the 27th we all woke up, stumbled around the 6 birth cabins in the dark and filtered upstairs ready to head out on our upcountry adventure. We had been planning it for weeks--and it was go time... Excited, we filled out our forms to leave the ship for 6 days and handed in our room keys. We all piled into this beautiful blue van, complete with proper seats AND seat belts....This is where we should have known it was too good to be true. 

Before even making it out of the port we were stopped for petrol--handing over a chunk of the cash we had decided was fair to take us 8 hours upcountry. Within 15 minutes of being on the road there was smoke.....a LOT of it, and it was coming from our van. The van began sounding like it was stuck in 2nd gear going up a mountain, and then more and more smoke continued clouding into the van. After picking up his mechanic “friend” on the side of the road, we continued on----until we were legitimately concerned for safety and demanded he stopped. He was determined to fix it, and we gave him a 30 minute clock to beat. He wanted to arrange a different van, but actually ended up just spending our money on a part that in fact, wouldn’t fix the van. We found another man to take us after much negotiation, and what seemed like all of Conakry weighing in on the decision. He agreed after much arguing with all the people who had chosen the other side, and were thus trying to convince us to stay with the broken down van.

 We all piled into van #2, and made it about 200 feet down the road. He then pulled over and asked for money. When we told him we would pay him some once we got out of Conakry he decided he didn’t want to take us anymore. Judging by the crowd of people who followed us, it was apparent he never had any intention of taking us and had been paid off by the crowd.  After we all groaned, realized what was happening, and decided to vacate the van Ruben opened the door----and then it literally fell off in his hand. Yes- trusty ride this one was, even our driver couldn’t contain his laughter at it all. After another hour of negotiation,a bunch of walking up and down the highway, and then finally finding a bus station we headed off inland in the van we lovingly call the Dalaba Express 3---- ONLY 4 hours after we left the ship.

Typical African Taxi

Our gear being sorted atop the winning van

The Dalaba Express III

Another view of a typical taxi--- and yes, those are chickens. and yes, they are alive. This is also a common transportation mode for goats, but we actually saw our first cow strapped on top of at one of the government checkpoints along the way.

Buying water bags from a kiddo on the street

We were meeting Juma, our guide for the trek the next morning, so when we rolled into Dalaba 12 hours later, we decided it was time for some food! We had a lovely dinner looking out onto the beautiful horizon in which we would spend our next 3 days. 13 people heading in together, not really sure what to expect but knowing the next few days would be life changing. 6 days and almost 28miles of hiking later there are way too many things to say about this trip, and I don’t even know if my words could do it justice. There are so many memories I will cherish forever, and moments with friends in Guinea that I can never get back or recreate. We spent time with locals in their villages, slept in their homes, played with amazing kids, hiked mountains, swam in waterfalls, gazed at the stars, and breathed in fresh African mountain air.  So with all of that said, I will simply share with you a few stories and some of our pictures taken by my photographically gifted friends Ruben, Jasmin and Josh.  

Water fall #1

                             We found this gem down a very dusty road and through a thick brush.

This was one of my last moves before I lost my wonderful Ray-Bans forever.....

We stumbled into this man's village. He is a local artist and has been recognized by the government as one of Guinea's best. He happily served us oranges from the tree he is sitting beneath and let us rest while watching him paint.

One of the profitable local trades is mining sand. These caves were 6-10 feet underground

Playing games with the kiddos in village #1

Our lovely guide Juma

Yes, that is her pet monkey

Family Dinner in Village #1

Waterfall #3

We were hoping to see Chimpanzee's but waltzing around at 630 wasn't quite early enough for their migration. So instead we call this our "Sunrise Hike"

Our "buddy group" Jasmin, myself, Steph D and Steph F

Waterfall #4/5

The beautiful view from the top

 Jas--a true photographer, getting dirty for an excellent shot

The guys were filming to put together footage for the annual film festival onboard. They are calling it "The Dalaba Express" The story line follows their hunt for Wildebeasts.... should be interesting!

The top of Waterfall #4

Along the way we met many patients who we are unfortunately unable to help---this was a little boy with a devastating neurological condition. What we could give them was prayer and ideas to help them keep him comfortable. Our guide Juma had such a sweet heart, and cried every time we met someone along the way.

Taking a small-small rest, or looking at the view as we like to call it instead.....

Sitting atop the falls

 It's all about perspective.......

Swimming upstream from the big falls

                                   Lydia improvising....who needs a rearview mirror anyways?

 

The picture below is one Ruben took the night we spent in the second village. It was cold-even for my Western self. The mountain air was crisp and we sat around--going deep in conversations with one another. My favorite memory from this night is something my friend Mirjam brought up. She had us listen to a song a friend of theirs had written. She translated the words into English from Dutch, and this is what has stuck with me--How the world needs more Joseph's. Joseph, the husband of Mary was so humble. He doesn't ever take the spotlight, doesn't demand attention, but took the role of a quiet servant. He had a huge role, raising the Son of God, and it must not have been easy. But he did it, quietly, patiently, and lovingly. What would happen to our world if we all followed his model? We would help one another, raise each other up, and lead each other quietly. The world needs more people just like him willing to go out, put in the effort, pour out their love, and not demand anything in return. 

 

On New Years Eve we headed back to a town about 2 hours outside of Conakry. We planned to spend the night here and celebrate the exit of 2012 and entrance of 2013. It was a beautiful night of a family dinner, campfire chats, and just enjoying one another. We slept in hammocks and tents and watched the stars shadowed by the mountains as we cheered in the New Year. It may be my favorite New Years in history--to spend it with friends, talking about life and our experiences in Africa. One of our biggest discussions was if someone had told us the year before this is where we would be bringing in the new year we wouldn't have believed them. It was all too perfect, but this is real--this is our life. We were given the opportunity to serve our God and love his people--making new friends and ridiculous adventures along the way.

We made this picture using our headlamps and a slow shutter...It took a few shots, but it turned out kind of perfect!

I hope that you all also feel refreshed and rejuvinated heading into this year. May 2013 be your best year yet!