Healing with Love

Recently I have been thinking about life down in the hospital, and why we (the nurses) are here.

Of course, we are here to provide the obvious medical care that is needed before and after surgery, but that is only part of our job. True, our patients need their medications and wound care, and we need to do our assessments, but often what our patients need more than any medication is love and unconditional acceptance.

Many of our patients come to us nervous, frightened, and ashamed. Nervous and frightened, because they have never been this far from home, have never been on a ship, and definitely not a hospital ship full of white people. For some of the children, it is there first time to every see a person with white skin. I have smiled at a newly admitted toddler before, only to have her scream and run away crying to her mother. Then there is the upcoming surgery for them to worry about. Add to that the shame that they bear because of their condition. Often our patients have been laughed at and ridiculed for their condition, if not outright rejected because they are thought to be cursed.

As the ones who will have the most interaction with the patients, we have the honor and privilege of being the ones who will have the greatest impact. We do what we can to make them feel safe. We are kind and gentle. We treat them as people of value. We laugh with them, smile with them, encourage them when they are down. For some of our patients, this is the most valuable thing that we can do for them. We cannot remove scars, and we cannot always make a person look "normal" Our surgeons do what they can, but they cannot work miracles. But with our love and encouragement they can still leave the ship with heads held high, knowing that they are not cursed. They are worthy of love and acceptance. And this will make more of a difference in their lives than any surgery. 

The Joys of Being Here

It is hard to believe that we have been doing surgeries here in Africa for two months already! I love being on the ward, it is such a happy place to be, full of smiles and laughter. There are children everywhere, playing games, running, being cuddled. In between my regular nursing duties, i.e., distributing medication, checking vital signs, emptying drains, and changing dressings,  I love to spend time with the patients playing games, weaving friendship bracelets, practicing my French and Kituba, and cuddling. Cuddling is definitely near the top of my list of the joys of being here.

 

 

Maxillofacial surgeries continue to happen at a steady rate, and I love getting to see my little children come in for their cleft lip surgeries. It is typically a simple surgery, but it makes such an immediate difference in these children's lives. I had a 9 year-old girl who was scheduled for a cleft lip surgery this week. She was so very quiet and serious and despite all my efforts, I could not coax a smile out of her. I thought she might be a little frightened, so I pulled up the pictures of young Vernel on the computer (see sidebar) and showed her his before and after photos and what his bandages looked like after he had surgery so that she knew what to expect. I have no idea what she has gone through in her nine years of living with a cleft lip, but she was so withdrawn and desperate for love. She hardly spoke, but she wanted to be held constantly. If I put her down so that I could attend to my other duties, she would follow me around and wait for me to finish my work so that I could pick her up again. Nine years old is a little old to want to be held and carried like that, but she seemed to need the extra love and attention. After surgery her new lip was still swollen, and she was still quiet, and wanted to be held and cuddled. While I was on night shift I held her in my arms until she was ready to sleep. I never did get to see her new smile, she went home only two days after her surgery. She comes back next week to have her stitches removed, and I hope to see a transformed little girl.

My Serious, Snuggly Child

Plastic surgery has finished for now, and orthopedic surgeries have begun. So many lives have already been changed for the better. Of all the surgeries that we do here, the plastics patients require some of the longest healing times. Most of these patients have burn contractures which have been repaired with skin grafts. Practically speaking this means that the surgeon takes healthy skin from another place on their body (usually the thigh) and uses it to repair the open places left when the scar tissue is cut away. Many of these patients will stay in the hospital for one to two months. We develop close relationships with these patients and their families. Even though we have finished the plastics surgeries, there are still ten or so plastics patients left on the ward waiting for their grafts to heal.

 

It has been so exciting to see the first few orthopedic patients come in. Beautiful children with cheerful smiles, excited laughter, and crooked legs, eager to shake your hand as they walk past you in the halls. Some of them will not need surgery, their legs will be put in a series of casts to straighten them. Others will need surgery to correct the more severe bone deformities. The first few are already walking down the hall, with their legs casted, learning how to walk with straight legs.  

Ortho patients on the dock

The greatest joy of being here? Simply watching my patients from admission to discharge. Seeing the changes in them as they are showered with love and unconditional acceptance. True, we have helped to heal them of whatever physical ailment they had, but the greatest thing that I get to do here is to make sure that each and every one of them know that no matter what they look like, they are not cursed. To let them know that they are human, they are intelligent, they are special, they are worthy of love, and they are loved by us and by God.

Hello from A Ward!!!

The Joy and the Sorrow: Lessons in Love

The Entire Nursing Staff at the Beginning of the Congo Field Service

The first few weeks of surgery. It was amazing to me to see the hospital suddenly burst into life. We went from quiet empty hallways and empty beds, to hallways teaming with life and activity and beds full of patients in just a matter of days. It was wonderful to see those first patients, to see the joy that they held. It made me smile to see them come, nervous but excited.

Though the first weeks were filled with amazing surgeries and promises of hope, there were also many patients to whom we had to give bad news. Patients whose tumors were revealed to be inoperable when they came in for their scans. Patients whose tumors turned out to be cancerous. Patients to whom we had to say, "I am sorry, but there is nothing that we can do." Of course, we would never simply turn these patients away. Those who are dying are placed in our palliative care program, and we will continue to care for them.

Two patients from my first week stand out in my mind more than any others. The first is Emmanoel, the little boy who was rushed through the line at screening day, with a tumor in his mouth and throat, cutting of his airway. Every breath was made with effort, his chest was concaved and deformed from the effort it took to simply get enough air to survive. He received his surgery in the first week. His tumor was removed successfully and after only one day on a ventilator he was breathing on his own. His parents were so thankful and excited to see how well he was doing, and asked if he would now be able to learn how to speak, something that he had never done before. The joy on their faces when they learned that he should learn how to speak normally now that he could breathe was wonderful to behold. He was sent home last week, a much happier and healthier little boy.



Emmanoel Serious and Struggling to Breathe at Screening Day

Emmanoel Happy and Healthy after Surgery

The second child was a little girl, the same age as Emmanoel, and with the exact same problem. A tumor was filling her mouth and throat, cutting off her airway, so that she could barely breathe. She was also admitted to the hospital in the first days after the hospital opened. Her story however, did not end happily. Her tumor was found to be cancerous and inoperable. In the few days since screening day, her tumor had grown measurably. There was nothing that we could do. Her mother wept when we told her. We kept her in the hospital for a few days. I was not on the ward the day she went home to heaven, but I heard of it later and wept. She had passed away in the arms of one of our nurses. She had taken one final breath, and then the tumor closed off her airway, and she breathed no more. The entire hospital mourned her loss that day.

It was a vivid reminder to me that we are not here only for the people that we can help, the people we can heal, the people that we can "fix". We are here for each and every person that we will interact with: our patients, their families, and every other person that we will interact with here in Congo. We are here to share the love of Jesus in whatever way we can, by caring for each and every patient with kindness, by comforting the grieving, and rejoicing with those who are healed, by giving a smile and a gentle touch. This is why we are here, not just to provide surgeries, not just to bring physical healing, but to heal with love, to heal the wounds that cannot be seen. .

In Love With A Ward

Working on A Ward has been such a wonderful experience. A Ward is the general surgery/overflow ward, so we get everything. In my first few weeks alone I have cared for patients recovering from surgery for burn contracture release, cleft lip repairs, hernia repairs, goiter repairs, lipoma removals, and facial reconstructions. Building relationships with my patients as they recover from surgery is amazing and playing with all the children and seeing them smile warms my heart. I want to keep them all. Saying goodbye when they leave to go home is the hardest part of the job, but I know that the Lord is going to continue to work in their lives after we leave, and they are leaving into a better life than the one they came to us with. Praise the Lord for the gifted hands of the surgeons onboard who have helped us to give these people hope.

With Baby After Cleft Lip Repair

On Deck 7 with some of the Nurses and Patients

 On the weekends I have enjoyed my time off going to the local markets or spending the day on Roume Island. Guinea truly is a beautiful place behind the dust and grime of the city.

Roume Island

Sailing to the Island