Daniel

I was in line at the snack shop the other day. I had a member of a Vision Trip in line in front of me. She had one of Mercy Ships publications with her. On the front was a picture of Daniel. I got all excited, and was like, " Oh look there is Daniel!!!!" My friend in line with me asked who that was. I told them it was a little boy that we had done B/L achilles tendon releases as well as B/L hamstring lengthening. Then, after surgery we didn't understand why he could not walk. Mom was struggling to just get him to stand at the bedside. When we finally asked, she explained that he had never walked in life. He was 8. I then noticed the calluses on his knees. He had been crawling to get around. Now, we usually do not do orthopedic surgeries on kids that have a contributing neurological disorder, because just fixing the physical does not work. For some reason the surgeons had decided to perform surgery on him. I must admit I was skeptical of his prognosis.  He was discharged. I got regular updates from the physical therapist that was working with him. He was doing great, moving forward. Using a walker, getting long leg braces, walking with crutches. I went to the hospitality center. He wanted to take a walk.  He struggles around the grounds with his walker, sweat running off his face, and the biggest smile you can imagine!!!!

He is now walking with the braces and crutches. 

I recounted this story the the friend I was in line with. His answer was so simple and so perfect. " That is why we are here"

Here is the article written by Carmen Radley that was in the publication.

Daniel’s Fight

Daniel stood up for the first time when he was eight years old. He was on the Mercy Ship, with his legs in casts up to his thighs. He pitched forward on a child’s walker as he moved one foot in front of the other. Contracted hamstrings and Achilles’ tendons had prevented him from such independence before. 

“When he was six months old, we tried to get him to sit up like other babies, but he couldn’t,” his mother Odette said. “When he was two years old, we wanted to help him stand and walk, but we could see that his legs would not straighten. We went to many hospitals and tried many things, even traditional healers. But nothing helped.”

So all his life, Odette carried him. Everywhere she went, Odette had Daniel on her hip. She carried him to the table to eat, she carried him to the toilet, and she carried him to bed at night. Going to school wasn’t even an option for Daniel.

“I was very worried about it,” Odette explains. “As a human being, I will die. I worried about what would happen when I die because he needed me for everything.”

When he came to the Mercy Ship in Benin, Daniel was quiet and somber. He smiled rarely and spoke little – and only to his mother. His withdrawal was caused by years of being treated as if he could do nothing, years of only watching other children running by with a soccer ball.

The surgeons successfully released his contracted legs, a condition probably caused by cerebral palsy. Olivia Yeung, a physical therapist from Canada, began working with him three times a week just after his surgery. 

In a place that makes few accommodations for handicaps, she says Daniel would have struggled. At intersections, people with physical disabilities like Daniel’s drag themselves up to car windows to beg for small change. But Olivia says she thinks his future would have been even darker.

“I don’t know if he would have made it,” Olivia says. “To survive, you have to believe. But if you’re treated as nothing, then you’re less likely to fight.”

But the last few months have brought healing to Daniel in many forms. He’s had physical healing, gaining the ability to stand and growing stronger each day. He’s had psychological healing, learning to believe in himself and to fight for each step he takes. And he’s had relational healing as well. The bond between Daniel and his mother has blossomed – he looks for her affirmation, and she shows him her approval.

“Odette is progressively getting more encouraged,” Olivia says. “At the beginning, she was there, but silent. Now she takes part, and she encourages him. And you can tell when she’s proud of him – she smiles.”

As he slid along the silver bar for support, Daniel’s tongue pressed his bottom lip, his legs quivering with effort. As he perched on crutches, he shifted his weight and finally got his chance to kick the soccer ball. Every few minutes, he glanced back at Odette, sitting in a chair a few feet away and watching with her hand to her cheek, a gentle smile lingering on her lips. Daniel breathed heavily from the exertion; sweat gathered on his brow, his upper lip, and even under his eyes like two tears. But he was happy, and so was Odette.

“When he took his first steps, I was overjoyed,” Odette says. “I was saying to myself, ‘Can he really walk?’ I couldn’t believe it.” 

“I am so happy about all the things, for the doctors and nurses,” she continues. And Odette has a special blessing for Olivia, who helps Daniel shine: “I pray that God will give Olivia wisdom and blessings, and that God will have his hand in many things that she does because she is taking care of my son.”

Daniel will probably need a crutch or cane to help him along, but he will have a chance to be independent and even to go to school. Daniel works hard to improve each day, and he does it for a simple reason – “Because I want to walk.” 

Written by Carmen Radley

    

Happy Times

I can say this last week, I was struck by the fact that I was happy. Very happy. I'm not completely sure why.  I have had struggles being on board and all, but in general I am content here. I don't think about it much, but it struck me tonight I am happy. I was talking to one of our translators Christian, ( who was trying to get me married of to a "good man" in the US that he knew) and I said, " I'm OK here on board" He said, yes you are content, but isn't it better to be happy than content. That struck me. It is better, and I am happy. I enjoy my patients, joking and laughing with them. I enjoy my co workers. I love the simple things here. I got a picture from my family, a new one with everyone in it. That made me so so happy. Being able to show everyone on board what a great family I have. My sister is having a baby in 3 weeks, I'm gonna be an Aunt. That puts a smile on my face every time I think about it.

My friend Allison just got back from Paris, and she was eager to get back on board. This felt like home to her, and I can see feeling like that after my time at home. But, I think I get to visit some people that I didn't think I would be able to when I home. I love that. To get to connect with the ones you love. 

We have a doctor here, Lord Ian Mcoll. He is literally a Lord in England. He is 76 and the smartest man I know. Was the head of surgery in the best hospital in England. One high powered dude. He is also quick witted with a great sense of humor. He has a respect of nurses rarely found in surgeons outside of Mercy Ships. It makes my heart glad to see him and his wife of 50 years in the dining hall and knowing that I can sit with them and be a recipient of his years of wisdom and have a dang fun time. 

I was walking the dock tonight with Allison and ran into one of the families on board. They have a little boy (the youngest of their 4) who is about a year old. He is just starting to walk. I have been able to watch the progress from him barely being able to turn over and crawl to being able to walk up the stairs with Daddy. They raise their kids in front of us. We see the temper tantrums. We see the smiles and the tears. I miss seeing all that at home. Being a single girl I didn't have a ton of exposure to that for the last few years. I love being around the kids and families on the ship. Weather it is the teens playing pranks with a large, hairy remote controlled tarantula or seeing one of the young couple being pregnant for the first time, this is what Christian living should be. Sharing each other lives. I may not be best buddies with everyone on board, but we do share in each other lives.  

I remember the line in Life as a House, where the boy asks his father " You haven't been happy in 5 year". I asked myself that question back in Boston.  I don't think it was that bad. I absolutely had happy moments. I loved what I did. But there was a restlessness that I don't have here.  I think it is simply being in the center of Gods will for my life and knowing that he will always provide.  But I think it is also living in community. Letting yourself be known by people. Knowing that everyone struggles, and it is OK. You can let people know. You don't have to " Put on a brave face" . There is incredible freedom in that. The Joy of the Lord is my strength!!!!

The pictures above are of Sarah, one of my Gateway "Sisters". She is 20 now, from Austria and going to Medical School. She left the ship in late August.  The next is Allison, an OR nurse from Texas, and the other Gateway " Sister".  The Third is my wonderful family back home. 

Night Shift

Hi there,

So, my lack of communication in the past weeks has been due to the fact that I have been queen of the night shift.  Now, those who know me know that I was a straight night shift nurse at home. As a generalization, I like nights. They are a bit tamer, more ordered.  I also enjoy the personalities of night nurses. They tend to be more team oriented, more willing to think "outside the box" due to not having resources you have available during the day. 

Here, I do very much enjoy the nurses on night shift.  You have a lot of night shift to talk to the other nurse you are working with. And you are usually only working with one other nurse. It is a great time to get to know a newer nurse and hear their story and experience. Since there is only one charge nurse on nights at a time, I'm usually the senior nurse.  I have a ton of fun trouble shooting, finding solutions that are not completely obvious and generally avoiding waking up surgeons at 3 am. Some of my most memorable experiences on ship have come on night shift. I love the Independence and autonomy. 

The difference here is, when you are on nights, you become invisible to the rest of the ship. You are exempt from fire drills, you are not at normal meals, you are not at coffee breaks and your a zombie when they do see you.  

So, that has been my challenge in the past few weeks. To maintain my friendships and social life, while sleeping all day and feeding a serious tea habit (I'm not a fan of the coffee here, in general). But, I find that people are very accommodating if you udder those 3 little words " I'm on nights" I'm thankful for the blackout curtains in my room, my very quiet roommates and the Tupperware that I store my "2 am snack" in.  I love Deck 8. The ability to be in the sun and the open air, without needing a companion to be off the ship.  I love doing laundry at 2 am, and every washer and dryer are free.

I have a hard time switching back and forth sometimes, but I can't imagine it any other way. It is the way of being a nurse. Something that is so much a part of me, it will never change.

Here are some cure kid pictures, because I know how much you love them!!!!!  

Feeding program

Mercy Ships has a feeding program. The purpose of it is to help babies get fat enough to be able to do surgery on them. Often these are cleft lip and palate babies that, once the cleft is fixed, they are able to eat more normally and gain weight on their own. But, in the mean time, they need a little extra help. 

We have two of these little ones on the ward right now. Hubert and Anicette. Hubert had his lip fixed in April and inexplicably stopped gaining weight. Anicette needs both a cleft lip and palate fixed.  Now, I usually don't have to much contact with these babies, but I'm in charge in D ward this week, so I have been seeing them on a daily basis. I have found it very frustrating. Anicette has been with us for a month, with virtually no weight gain. We have done every test available to us. No answers. We are going to have to refer her out to a local hospital.

Hubert was looking great after we admitted him. At 9 months old he was the size of an American newborn. He gain weight steadily. He was looking like a healthy, little but healthy, 9 month old. Then, 3 days ago, he spiked a fever, started breathing too fast, his heart rate is too fast, he is breathing too fast. Again, our medical tests are not telling us anything.  We are hoping it is a virus and it will pass on its own. We are praying. Really praying. 

One of the Moms on board, (who is also our speech therapist) was talking to Hubert's father. He told her that they had not done anything for him. The reason he had no marks on his face (like his sister), was because he had always been a sick, and the father had not claimed him. He did not claim him as his child. On the medical side, does that mean he is not vaccinated?? That gives us a whole bunch of different options of what the rash could be. On the spiritual side, the father is actively involved in Voodo. Is that effecting this little boy?? Is there a spiritual aspect to his illness? It is always a challenge to balance faith and medicine. This situation has highlighted it. It has also highlighted the question of identity. Why had the father not "claimed" him? How is that going to effect him as he grows? So much of us is determined by our parents influence.  What would happen if they simply chose not to claim us? I thank God everyday that he claims me. No matter my faults, no matter my shortcomings, no matter my weakness, I am his. My identity is found in him. 

Update: August 24th 2009..... Hubert died this morning at 10:30 am. He was in the arms of his earthly father, and he will now forever be in the arms of his heavenly father.  I can not rationalize the death of a 9 month old, but I trust that God knows what he is doing. Thank you for all your prayers.

Carole

It has been kind of a low key month. Our long term surgeons are on vacation with their families, so we are doing a ton of general surgeries. The Max - Fax surgeon, Dr. Gary Parker comes back in a week or so, and Dr. Terius Vendor comes for a few weeks, in 2 weeks. I thought that I would share a story of one of Dr. Terius's patients, written much better than I can write, by Carmen Radley, one of the ships writers. 

Janviera can recount the afternoon with precision – it was a Thursday, the 23^rd of October, 2008. She recalls how her children came home from school a little late, how they sat by lamplight with their tutor, and how the kerosene ran out.

Carole, the only girl in a family of five children, was always by her mother’s side. She helped take care of the other four children and helped clean the house. When Janviera needed things from the market, Carole would go and buy them. She helped cook – even the very difficult local cuisine, fufu. She helped with everything. 

So that evening, as usual, Carole helped by refilling the lamp. She began to pour the kerosene, which they later guessed had been mixed with gasoline. Because Carole could not see very well, she called to her mother, and Janviera took over. Suddenly, the lamp exploded, and everything went black. 

“I woke up on the other side of the room,” Janviera says. “I looked down and saw my arm was burned. Then I looked across the room and saw Carole. She was unconscious, and her school dress was still burning.”

She grabbed a blanket, threw it across Carole’s body, and immediately rushed her daughter to the hospital. Pictures taken there show Janviera disheveled and tired, holding her arm out stiffly.  And they show Carole – lying  on her back, her face swollen and blackened, her body covered in bandages and talcum powder.

“As a mother, I had to put my own pain aside,” Janviera recalls, glancing at the mottled scars on her left arm and hand. “I could only think about Carole. I was always crying, constantly asking God to save my daughter.” 

It was three weeks before Carole was able to eat any food. Her mouth and eyes had been burned shut.  Each day she received dressing changes, removing dead skin and applying ointment to the wounds. She was in extreme pain. Sometimes Carole’s wounds would stick to the sheets of her bed, and they would have to soak her in water and separate her from the fabric – agonizing bit by bit. 

“We spent so much money for the treatment,” Janviera said. After three months of treatment, Carole’s arm was frozen, unable to extend past a right angle, with her palm turned out like a question mark. Her right cheek and arm, as well as her side, stomach, and chest were covered with raised scars of shiny, inflexible skin.

At school, her burns became an opportunity for cruelty. “If Carole did something that one of the kids didn’t like, they would say, ‘You have a burned face. You have a burned body.’” At home, she could no longer help her mother around the house because of her contracted arm.

Janviera heard about Mercy Ships through a radio advertisement, and she brought Carole to Cotonou for an operation onboard the Africa Mercy. The surgical team released contracted scar tissue and placed skin grafts at her elbow and wrist.

Kim Shankland, an occupational therapist from South Africa, worked with Carole after the surgery to help improve the range of motion in her arm and wrist. Kim says that without surgery, Carole would have struggled her whole life with basic self-care – “just eating, braiding her hair, brushing her teeth, and dressing would have been a huge problem.”

Later in life, she would have faced obstacles in supporting herself. Common jobs, like selling yams and tomatoes at the market or pursuing a trade like sewing, would have been impossible.  She would have been forever dependent on family or a husband. 

“As a mother, knowing what sort of difficulties your child would have – not being able to do the things you do – must be quite frustrating,” Kim says. She believes this has spurred Janviera in making sure Carole uses her injured arm and performs the rehab exercises. Janviera’s encouragement and insistence has been a major part of Carole’s successful recovery.

“I hope that she can be my helper again,” Janviera says. “But what I want most is for her to be able to use her hand, to write, to be someone tomorrow.”

Written by Carmen Radley

Photos by Debra Bell and Esther Biney

Desire and a hard night

Hi there!!!

I have wanted to tell you the story of Desire for a while and just have never gotten around to it. I few months ago the eye team coordinator for the ship came into the ward and asked if I had room for a little baby to stay overnight.  We had room and some kick butt pediatric nurses, so I said sure and went to meet the little tyke. I went into the eye room and saw this tiny little baby who had his eye covered. We asked, who we thought to be Mom, how old he was. The answer I thought was a mistake "3 hours". "3 hours" we asked. Yes. Looking at this women there was no way she was 3 hours post partum, so we asked, who she was. "Grandma", she answered. Upon further inquiry we found out that the baby was delivered at a hospital about 45 minutes away. He has contracted conjunctivitis in the womb and that had turned his eyelids inside out. Grandma saw that the baby had something wrong with his eyes and knew that the Ship took care of eye problems, so she took the little one from his Mom, hopped on the back of a motor bike for a 45 minute trip and brought him to us. It was a Friday, the only day that the eye surgeons are on the ship. They happened to be available to see the baby right away. The surgeon fixed his eyelids and treated the infection. If the baby has not gotten immediate help or if the surgeons had been unavailable the baby may have lost his sight. 

After the surgery instead of admitting the baby to the ward we sent him back to his Mom so he could eat and bond. His eyes healed  perfectly and he will see just fine!!!

Last night was another exciting night. I was in charge of the wards and my patients were doing well. I got a call from the nurse taking care of the patients in another ward. A man, that had a large hernia repair, blood pressure's was decreasing as his heart rate was increasing. He was given a couple of meds that can make you very sleepy and he was hard to wake up, but once you did, his blood pressure went up and heart rate decreased. We turned off one of the meds that would make him sleepy.  We gave him fluid, woke him up and he would do OK for a few minutes then his heart rate would go back up and his blood pressure would go back down. We did this for about 45 minutes. We called the ward doctor, gave him more fluid and medications to help his blood pressure. He didn't respond to it. We called the anesethesiologist and the surgeon. Tried more meds, more monitoring. Put a tube down his throat to help him breathe, nothing was helping. We were worried we were gonna lose him. The doctor then decided to open up his stomach, right there in the ICU. When he did, it relived the increasing pressure in his abdomen that had been building since his surgery due to an artery bleeding. That pressure had compressed his Vena Cava (the large vein in your stomach that returns all your blood to your heart). Since his heart had no blood to pump, his blood pressure kept decreasing. After the pressure was relived, his blood pressure became stable and HR decreased. They then brought him back to the OR to close his stomach.

Right now, I'm sitting on the ward with him sleeping in a bed behind me. He is stable. He is healing. He has some way to come still, but God was watching over him. God showed the doctor the unlikely cause of his symptoms. God kept the patient body strong to survive this trauma. I believe that God will continue to have his hand on him. 

I'm posting pictures of Desire. I hope you have enjoyed reading a few stories of the patients!!!

Weakness

Hi there,

I have just returned from Ghana (well, "just" meaning last night). Our time there was incredible!!! We started our journey with a 10 hour "bus" ride (bus meaning a VW bus looking thing) at 4:30 in the morning. We passed through the borders of Benin, Togo and Ghana, getting stopped by every patrol on the road and sitting and waiting at every border crossing.  But when we arrived, I was taken aback with the beauty that surrounded me. The mountains were green, we could see the waterfall in the distance. It was one of those surreal moments when you realize that you are living what you have always dreamed about. I have always dreamed of being in a village in Africa being surrounded by the beauty of God's creation, and here I was. It was so neat. The hotel that we planned to stay at the following nights was full that night that we arrived, so the plan was to camp. We were told, "Oh its just a half hour or so hike,nothing to bad" Well, it took us closer to an hour, up very steep terrain with not so light back packs. But, the camp site was breathtaking again. We were camped with mountains all around and could see the village in the distance. We had a great night hanging out with friends, joking and talking. We had the most amazing group make this trip. A great mix of personalities, strengths and professions. The people made the trip, it would have been so different with another group.

That is where the title of this blog comes in. Weakness. It is something that no one like to admit to. We know that we all have them, we hide them, we explain them away. We know God is OK with our weakness, but we are not.  Well, at least I am not. I seem to think that I have to be everything to everyone. That I'm not allowed to be weak. Well, this weekend I had no choice but to admit it. I was weak; by far the weakest of the group. I struggled  to do the 6 hour hike, and was behind the whole time. I'm not real used to being behind. I tend to like to lead and encourage. Not to have to be waited for, but I really had no options. I simply could not keep up with the pace. That is where the people on the trip came in. There was one guy that stayed with me the whole time. Another nurse that I knew pretty well, we made no big deal out of it, he just stayed with me to make sure I did not feel forgotten. And then we did actually catch up with the rest of the group, there was no "Oh you finally decided to join us" or teasing, it was just, "How you doing??" or "You OK??" . They saw I was weaker and they were OK with that. It didn't effect their perception of me. I often wish I could see myself through others eyes. Even better if it were through God's eyes. Just curious what I would see. But, I finished the hike. Only fell a dozen times or so (Which, if you have ever been hiking with me isn't too bad). No massive injuries. I awoke Sunday morning in the most pain I have experienced since the first day of basketball camp in high school. Where as everyone else was " a bit sore" I felt like my thigh muscles would rip if I tried to walk down a flight of stairs. A reminder of my weakness.  As I talked to God about what he was trying to teach me through all this, it was two things. First, He is OK with weakness, His strength is made perfect in our weakness!! Our job is to stop trying to do it all on our own and surrender it to him. Second, that we has put people all around us that have different strengths and weaknesses, and those people can complement our strengths and help us in our weakness. I am continually surprised at how OK most people are with weakness. If you stop trying to hide it and just come out and say, " I need some help here" most are happy to come along side you and be a support.  So, as I returned to the ship mentally refreshed and physically exhausted I thank God that He is made perfect in my weakness and that he has given me people here that are OK with my weakness.

By the way, the hike lead to an amazing waterfall, which we played in. It is just so neat to be able to experience the power and beauty of Gods creation. It stared raining on the trip down which is lots of fun when it trail is all dirt. Almost to the end we came began to hear lots of people. At the lower falls was a gathering of some sort with 800 of the local people singing dancing and enjoying each other company. We stayed at watch, some joined in and danced with them. Then it was back to the hotel for a much needed shower and Motrin.

I'm posting a link to the Facebook album so you see the beauty of Ghana!!! Enjoy