Today, my day off, I volunteered to assist with security at the eye screening. Because cataract surgery is such a quick and relatively simple operation, we can operate on approximately 50 patients per week. That is 50 people each week of whom it can be truly said, "I was blind, but now I see." Mercy Ships holds an eye screening twice a week to look for patients with operable cataracts. People with vision problems eagerly line up, hoping that the problem causing their blindness or vision problems is a cataract, so that Mercy Ships can fix it.
These people know that we are Mercy Ships, and often people with other medical conditions will show up, asking us to help them, hoping that Mercy Ships can give them a miracle. Often, we have to sadly say. "I am sorry, but we can not treat your condition." or "I am sorry, we would love to help you, but our surgery schedule for your problem is full, and there are no more places on our waiting list."
Today, the very first woman in line for eye screening, was one of those people looking for a miracle. She held in her arms, a small bundle, a baby. I saw what looked like a tumor on the baby's face. Her body was wrapped in blankets, so it was hard to tell, but I was hopeful. I knew that we did still have open places in our surgical schedule for our Maxillofacial surgeon. Perhaps we could help this baby.
We took the mama to the side, and I unwrapped the baby. Instantly my heart broke. This sweet baby girl, who could not have been more than 3 months old, had only been born with part of her brain. Where there should have been a round, firm skull above her ears and eyebrows, her head was completely flat. When I touched the top of her head, there was no bone, only soft skin and tissue separating my fingers from her fragile brain tissue. What I had first thought to be a tumor, was actually a portion of her brain, covered in skin and protruding down over one eye. She appeared to me upset, and maybe hungry, opening her mouth wide and arching her back. I asked the mama if I could hold her, and she passed the little bundle to me. It was then that I realized that this was not a fussy or hungry baby. This precious little one was having seizures. Her back would arch and she would stiffen with her mouth wide open as she stopped breathing for several long seconds. Then her body would relax and she would breathe normally for a moment, before another seizure made her stiffen once more.
I knew that there was nothing that we could do surgically for this little one. Even in the States, this little one would not live long. The most that we would be able to do is refer the mama to our palliative care team, for good end-of-life care for the baby.
Our team was starting to screen the hopeful people in line and I was needed to help with security. I kissed that sweet little head and handed her back to her mama. I indicated that the mama should wait where she was. We would come back to speak with her with a translator as soon as we could.
I was sent down the line to keep people orderly, and assist those with the worst eyesight that needed help. When we went back to talk to the mama, she was gone. Perhaps, she knew already what we were going to say. I am sure that she had already been told by others that there was nothing that could be done for her baby.
But my heart broke for her. She had come to us hoping for a miracle, hoping that her baby would be taken to the magical white ship, where she would be fixed so that she could grow up to be a normal little girl.
There was so much that I had wanted to tell her.
I wanted to tell that mama that I thought her baby was beautiful, I wanted to tell her that her baby was loved by an ever loving God. I wanted to tell her that she hadn't done anything wrong, that what was wrong with her baby was not her fault. I wanted to tell her about the One who had said, "Let the little children come to Me, for such is the kingdom of heaven." I wanted to tell her that I would be praying for her and her baby.
Somewhere in Congo tonight there is a brokenhearted mother, holding a precious little baby girl who will not be much longer in this world.
When you pray, please pray for them.
