Africa Mercy - Ward Nursing: One Nurse's Journey

This is a running post about my friend's journey to Africa and work as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. Below are two emails sent April 14 and 17. Click here to learn more about the nurses and doctors on this ship. 
 

14 Apr 2013

ward nursing

This evening is my last scheduled shift as a ward nurse.  What an interesting two weeks it has been...such a different flavor from hospital nursing at home.  The pace is slower, for one thing, and the patients are not acutely ill, just recovering from surgery.  I had to laugh at myself last night.  I was organized and on task...and there wasn't all that much to do.  I found myself waiting for that window of one hour prior to a scheduled medication or treatment to get things done as soon as possible, "just in case."  Just in case...what?  I suddenly realized that I was expecting the unexpected admission, the sudden crisis down the hall, any of the myriad of things that can happen at home...and it's different here.  We are not a general hospital, and our surgeries are scheduled.  "Just in case" is pretty limited in scope.

Relax and enjoy the evening, Marilyn!  Play with the kids.  Dance with the ladies.  Be a hostess as well as a nurse.

Our ward quickly becomes a community.  One of my patients was a five-year old boy with major plastic surgery, so he has been here for several weeks while his graft sites heal.  His father is here with him, as patient as the day is long.  But last weekend, he declared that he had to go home to Kenya, a two day trip, to pay urgent bills, or his family would be evicted from their home.  No, he knew no one in Conakry who could be a caregiver for the boy.  No, no one else could pay his bills for him.  No, no one else could come from Kenya to care for the boy.  So, could he just leave the boy with us?  No, there has to be a caregiver for anyone under the age of 16.  Well, could he take the boy with him?  Not a good idea.  Hate to ruin a good surgery by discharging too soon.  Aha!  He asked another caregiver to watch his son for the two days he would be gone, a woman he only knew for a week or two because their sons were both in Ward A.  Problem solved.  I'm not even sure they were from the same tribe or language group...but it worked out.

Not all the stories have happy endings.  One little boy was admitted for removal of a huge lipoma, a non-cancerous tumor, that was growing on his neck and chest.  Unfortunately, x-rays revealed that the tumor had grown into his chest cavity and was already entangled with critical structures.  Surgery would require a thoracic surgeon, which we didn't have, and perhaps even then would be impossible.  It was just too late.

A year or two ago, perhaps...but not now.  Heartbreaking, to send him away to die of something that could have been cured, if only...

OK.  Let's talk about something more cheerful.  I got to watch eye surgeries one day last week.  Cataracts are a big deal here, both for children and for adults.  Our surgeons have trained some West African surgeons in cataract removal.  This is a perfect training place because we get hundreds of people hoping for surgery, so the surgeon can practice all day long, and he quickly becomes proficient.  I watched one Guinean doctor replacing cataracts and simultaneously training another Guinean while he worked.  They could whip through a surgery in about fifteen minutes.  Very smooth!

Time for lunch, and then another evening shift in Ward A.  It will be a little hard to say goodbye...and I've only been there for two weeks.  I can see that I'll have to return to the ward for visits once I'm working elsewhere.

M

4/17/203

Remember the boy with the huge inoperable lipoma on his neck and chest?

Well, guess what?  They did some more CT scans and decided that there was a fighting chance that they could remove it.  I guess some lipoma's are stuck pretty hard to the surrounding structures, but some peel off more easily.  Maybe his would peel.

His surgery was today, and it was apparently very successful.  The surgeon believes that he got it all, so the boy should recover to lead a normal life.  I'm told that his father is ecstatic.  He'd already lost one child to this malady, and for a while thought he would lose this one, too.  Anyway, to those who prayed for this boy and his family, thank you.  Who knows?  Maybe the Lord loosened that tumor up in response to prayer.  Please pray for his continued recovery and for a fruitful life in the years that have been restored to him.  Thanks.

--

  M

Africa Mercy - Aboard: One Nurse's Journey

Here is another update from my dear friend "M." She is finally on board the Africa Mercy, I am happy to say! Click here to learn more about the nurses and doctors, and the people they help on this ship. 


Sat 3/23/2013 4:38 PM

"Aboard the Africa Mercy"

I last wrote from Chicago.  We did catch the next plane to Conakry, and almost all our luggage made it, too.  The container with $10,000 worth of medications was located in Brussels, and the airline kept it cold until we could catch up with it after the three day delay in Chicago. It was a good ending to the "hiccup" in our travels.

We did two weeks of field service in Conakry, Guinea, before boarding the Africa Mercy (the ship that Mercy Ships operates) yesterday.  Field service was amazing.  It was hot, dirty, disorganized, and stressful, with constantly shifting plans, delays, difficulties in obtaining supplies, and health issues for several of our team...BUT...when all was said and done, I was surprised to discover that we had successfully accomplished three projects.  We painted the classrooms for the deaf school and put murals on several of their walls.  Then, when the unrest in the city settled down, we were able to hold a couple of days of Vacation Bible School for the Christian school as we'd originally planned, and we built a fence around the existing playground at the hospital where we had planned to build a new playground for the smaller kids.

I said that I was surprised, but I shouldn't have been.  In retrospect, it became obvious that the Lord had a hand in crafting our days, tailoring the work to suit both the talents and the weaknesses within our group.  We had some artists among us to produce the murals, some workmen capable of building fences and repairing the school desks, some who knew sign language to help us connect to the children and teachers at the deaf school, some teachers gifted in working with children and leading VBS, and even some mature ladies (me) to connect with the women who gathered to watch us work.  We didn't make our plans around our talents--it was pretty much catch as catch can, from our point of view.

So when I saw how it all came together, I really did feel that  I saw the hand of God at work, in a non-miraculous way, through us.  We were full participants in his creation—our efforts, prayers, struggles, work, and sweat were necessary ingredients—the raw materials out of which God crafted the final product.  Sweet!

So, we've been on the ship for a day now.  Our group has been disbursed, 16 people scattered among 400+ crew members, ready to begin our various jobs on Monday.  Yet another transition point--a big one.  Until now, we've faced many adjustments, minor hardships, and new things, but always, the situation was temporary.  Now, we begin the process of settling into a new home and a new job that will last a while, so "tough it out" doesn't work as well.  Hopefully, we'll find strength in the Lord to embrace fully the path that lies before our feet, looking past the inconveniences and remembering to be thankful to be involved in this great project of Mercy Ships.

I'm preaching to myself.  Yesterday was a hard day.  I was exhausted, for one thing.  I was disappointed in my cabin assignment, and didn't have the reserves to shake it off.  I'm in an upper bunk that is so close to the ceiling you can't even sit up in bed.  The room is very cold, with a wind blowing on me from the outlet two feet away. The cubicle space seems even smaller than what I had last time--I can touch the opposite wall from my bed, which, it turns out, is a good thing.  I lean on the opposite wall to climb out of bed down the steep ladder.  In general, my bunk, which was my place of refuge last time, is useless for anything except sleep this time.  And until I fix a few problems, it's not even very good for that.

Today is somewhat better.  I'm still exhausted, but not quite so much.

I've made some progress in fixing problems and sorting myself out, and I've worked on attitude adjustment with some success.  I can see some of the good things in my new situation--toilets that flush, good food, pleasant roommates, even decaf coffee.  Today, I once again believe that I will solve the problems that can be solved and adapt to the inconveniences that can't be avoided.  I'll adjust. 

 Monday begins the new job as an admissions nurse.  Another learning  curve, and who knows what difficulties lie ahead.  But also, it is,  finally, the beginning of what I came to do.  Soon, very soon, the  two-year time of preparation will give way to THE BEGINNING.  Stay  tuned...

Be blessed, y'all.

M

Africa Mercy - Hiccup: One Nurse's Journey

This is a running post about my friend's journey to Africa and work as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. Click here to learn more about the nurses and doctors on this ship. I am still waiting for news "M" has arrived safely! Her latest email is dated 3/7.

  

3/7/13
"hiccup"

Just getting to Conakry seems to be a challenge.  To get the humanitarian rates, our group of 19 was split into two groups.  My group was scheduled to fly from Tyler to Houston, Chicago, Brussels, and Conakry.  The other group was scheduled to fly from Dallas to Newark, Brussels, and Conakry.  Because of weather in Newark, the Dallas group was eventually, after hours of uncertainty, rescheduled to Chicago.

They arrived moments before our plane to Brussels was loaded.  So far, so good. We boarded for Brussels almost on time and moved slowly down the runway for fifteen minutes or so...and then returned to the gate.  Mechanical troubles, they said.  Now, that was the same plane we'd just flown in coming to Chicago--I'm glad "mechanical troubles" didn't affect us before we landed!  After fiddling with the problem for a while, they scrapped that plane and got us another.

But, with all the delays, our turn-around time in Brussels was gone.  We were going to miss our connection to Conakry.  That was a problem, because there are only two flights a week to Conakry.  Did they want to put us on the flight to Brussels and park us there for three days?

Shucks, maybe not. It took hours, but eventually they decided to park us in Chicago for three days.  We'll resume our travel itinerary on Saturday to catch the Sunday flight into Conakry.  Hopefully.

Of course, our luggage didn't fare so well.  Some of it is here, but quite a bit of it is somewhere else in the world...Newark?, Brussels?

Conakry? A back room in Chicago?  A random airport in Asia?  They may eventually round it all up for us...or not...but the worst of it is, they have lost the box of medications packed in ice that we were taking to the ship.

So, we traveled for about seventeen hours yesterday, and we made it from Texas to Chicago. I, for one, was exhausted and glad for a nice comfy bed and a day of rest.  Saturday will begin another marathon travel day--it'll take about 24 hours, if all goes well, to get from here to Conakry.

Of course, plans for our field service have changed again.  One of our leaders went a few days ahead of us to line things up, and he is doing a terrific job.  The current plan includes some time in a school for deaf children and some repair work in a men's prison, both located in the safe zone of Conakry.  But...well, we're fluid if need be.  I am thankful it's not my problem to work all this out.

So, contrary to expectations, I am not spending the next couple of days painting a dental clinic in the tropics of Guinea.  I am lounging, sightseeing, and resting in cold, snowy Chicago, mostly at the expense of United Airlines.  Pretty tough, eh? 

Blessings,

M