Africa Mercy - What Gratitude Looks Like: One Nurse's Journey

My friend Marilyn continues to give of her time and life on the Africa Mercy, a hospital ship that travels up and down the coast of Africa. Her email post is a bit dated, but it is never too late to reflect on Thanksgiving and being thankful. As Marilyn says below: "Gratitude is a constant theme around here, so much so that it starts to feel normal and expected."

2018-11-24 Thanksgiving and kids
It’s a long weekend for us on the ship. We don’t officially celebrate Thanksgiving, but since the largest people-group is American, they did contrive to serve turkey, dressing, and cranberry sauce for supper. Then there was a party in midships, everyone invited. Assorted people shared desserts that they’d made to celebrate. We also celebrated the Canadian Thanksgiving in October, again unofficially. Thanksgiving is a lovely holiday no matter when you celebrate. 

 I went to the Hope Center yesterday to play with the kids. The Ponsetti program is in full swing, so we have lots of kids with bowed legs or knock knees who are in the process of being straightened. Walking with both legs in full length casts can be a bit tricky, but it doesn’t slow them down much. They especially delighted in the balloon animals that one crew member made for them. Personalities quickly emerged: One boy wanted two, then two more, then two more…all with a twinkle in his eye and a big grin, even when we told him no. One boy had casts on both arms and hands, but he tried very hard to grab a balloon out of the box. When he dropped the balloon I gave him, he quickly knelt down and picked it up off the floor with his teeth. Resourceful lad. One shy girl just looked longingly; she lit up like a Christmas tree when we gave her one, too. One girl was a bit of a bully, bossing others around and taking her turn first when she could. They certainly had different strategies, but they were all eager to participate, and they all stayed cheerful even when we set limits. No pouting, no tears, no sense of entitlement. They teach a good lesson to live in the moment, be grateful for what comes your way, and don’t covet what you don’t have. 

 
Work has settled into a rhythm and goes along without a lot of drama these days. I have scheduled almost 600 people for surgery, half of our goal for the field service. So, we’re pretty much on target. Most of the people do show up for surgery as scheduled, but of course some can’t come because of illness or a death in the family. (We try to reschedule them.) I turn many away due to blood pressure or blood sugar problems, with instructions to get it sorted and come back. Most of them do, so maybe we’ve been a double blessing to them, if they continue to take care of their hypertension or diabetes as we have instructed them. 

Conakry is still experiencing a fair amount of unrest. There are demonstrations several days a week, obstructing traffic, sometimes closing businesses for the day. Some of our day crew and patients live in dangerous neighborhoods, but for the most part, the unrest doesn’t impact Mercy Ships, even the off-ship locations for dentistry and eye clinic. I still haven’t figured out what all the unrest is about—is it just the opposing party trying to unseat the president, or are there specific grievances that could be addressed? Most likely, it’s both. 

Christmas season is almost upon us. It is a wonderful, joyous time on the ship, celebrating traditions from several countries, and free from the commercialism we experience at home. I'm looking forward to it. -- 

Marilyn Neville

marilynneville@elitemail.org

 
2018-11-03, What gratitude looks like Gratitude is a constant theme around here, so much so that it starts to feel normal and expected. And then something over-the- top happens to remind me how thankful all our patients are, and how much they tell us so in words, smiles, tears, hugs, handshakes, songs, and prayers. I had one of those over-the-top events yesterday. An old woman, formerly blind, spent her time and resources for the six weeks following her surgery to make fans for a couple of us, a gift of thanksgiving. It must have taken her many hours; you can feel the love and gratitude woven into every thread. I’ve attached a picture so that you can see how intricate and beautiful the work truly is. 

 It humbles me to receive this gift. I personally have done so little for her—I typed a few things Hopefully I at least smiled and greeted her warmly. (I don’t always…it gets pretty busy, and I neglect the least “essential” but most important thing.) But of course, the gift is not so much for me personally; it is an expression of gratitude to Mercy Ships for the restoration of her sight, and hopefully, to God as the true source of blessing, without whom Mercy Ships could not succeed.

It’s not just the patients that God blesses through Mercy Ships. He uses this ministry to bless the volunteers who come to serve. In fact, his shovel is much bigger than my teaspoon when it comes to dishing out the blessings. Perhaps I, too, need to weave a symbol of my gratitude…but lacking the artistic talent to make a fan, perhaps I’ll just need to weave with words instead.

Speaking of words…I listened to the Celebration of Sight being translated from French into Soussou and Pular yesterday. As I listened to the babble of meaningless sounds that obviously meant something to others, I once again marveled at the gift of speech. Isn’t it amazing? We twist our tongues and lips and breathe through our vocal cords…and convey ideas, even abstract and complex ideas, to one another. When you understand the language, you think about the meaning of what’s being said, not about the vehicle of language itself. Yesterday allowed me to be an outside observer of speech, and it is really quite remarkable. The same can be said about written language. How is it that all these squiggles on the page convey meaning to you? But since God has indeed enabled us to interpret language in squiggle form as well as speech, I’ll use these squiggles to weave my symbol of gratitude to God. He has indeed blessed me abundantly, and I am grateful. Receiving the fan yesterday reminded me of how much I have to be grateful for, and how important it is to say so.
 

Marilyn Neville marilynneville@elitemail.org

Sharon M. Himsl

Published: Evernight Teen 

The Shells of Mersing

Africa Mercy - Midstream Thoughts, Winding Down: One Nurse's Story

More from Marilyn in Africa....  Sorry these postings are so late!  My friend, as you know, is in Africa serving as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. She emails me and I share her words with you. For those of you who know nothing of  Marilyn's story, the Africa Mercy is a hospital ship that travels the African coast with a crew of nurses and doctors. They come from all over to give of their time as volunteers.

(February)

07-Feb 2018

"Midstream Thoughts"

     We are more than half-way done with this field service in Cameroon, and we have done more than a  thousand cataract surgeries.  We haven’t seen the great need we see in some countries…but that’s a thousand people (and families) who have been blessed, with more to come.  Quietly satisfying.

     The advance team is working hard to settle key issues for the next field service in Guinea.  Last I heard, they still hadn’t found a suitable site for the eye clinic.  Part of the problem is the configuration of the city—there’s a choke point in traffic leading off the tip of the peninsula where the ship will be; traffic can be tied up for hours there, so they want the clinic located below the choke point, near the ship, for convenience and for safety reasons.  I certainly hope they find something better than what we had last time we were in Guinea.  That was a tent inside a leaky building—very dirty and hot, no water, no toilets, no parking. 

    

     Staffing for next field service is also unsettled.  I probably won’t know for another month whether I’ll have a spot on the eye team or not, and if so, just what job I’ll be offered.  So, we wait to see.

     Meanwhile, we continue to screen for cataract patients for this year.  Monday a week ago we screened in a small city a couple of hours from Douala and found quite a few potential patients.  Encouraged, this past Monday we sent both the primary and secondary screening teams to another small town even further from the port, anticipating another good-sized crowd of people who are medically under-served.  It was disappointing —we scheduled only one patient for surgery.  Next Monday we’ll travel a couple of hours in another direction, to Limbe, to try again.  After that, there will be no more long-distance screenings, only the ongoing screenings in Douala.

     Dr. Glenn continues to train local surgeons to do this type of cataract surgery.  Patricia, who trained last fall, has moved to the northern part of the country and is getting started there, booking her first patients already.  The Minister of Health and quite a few dignitaries visited the ship this week to see our program and to talk about how they can sustain the work after we leave.  Dr. Glenn talked to them about how they needed to protect their valuable resource (trained surgeons) by ensuring that the surgeons have the equipment and support they need to get established.  They seemed to take the message to heart, and they are the power-men who could make it happen.  Very hopeful.

     Next Saturday I plan to take a day trip to visit some baby chimpanzees. The reserve is managed by an association that subsequently releases them into Pongo Songo Island on the Sanaga River when they become adults. After playing with the babies, we will take a boat ride to the Island to watch the adult chimpanzees from a safe distance; they are not so friendly, but fascinating.

--

  Marilyn Neville

   

2018-02-15

"Winding Down"

     I have only a bit over six weeks left in Cameroon.  The weeks are just melting!  I am currently booking surgeries for the last day of surgery.  After that, I will backtrack and add patients to increase the number of surgeries per day.  We plan to screen for new patients for two more weeks.  I am also calling folks who didn’t show up on their surgery date and others whose blood pressure or other medical problem prevented them from having surgery when scheduled.  I also have a bunch of potential patients who never made it past me to get onto the schedule in the first place because of medical problems, and I have been calling some of those to see if they’ve gotten themselves sorted and want to try again.  Everything gets a bit tricky at this stage—we want enough patients, but not too many.  We want to encourage people to come back if appropriate, but we don’t want to raise hopes only to dash them if we run out of room.

     What happens after two weeks?  I have no idea what I’ll be doing once scheduling is done.  I’m sure there will be many wrap-up tasks, and the last four weeks will melt as quickly as they have been doing.

It seems likely that I’ll return next year to be the scheduling nurse again in the Guinea field service, but nothing is definite yet.  Meanwhile, I plan to be home in Syracuse NY from April through August, minus a few trips here and there to see people.  And somewhere in there, I’ll probably be moving to Philadelphia with Barbara when she retires.  I’m sure that time will melt as quickly as this field service time has done.

     We had another Celebration of Sight today, as we do every Friday.  All the patients who had surgery during the week six weeks ago come back on this day to have the final laser treatment and attend the Celebration.  A couple of hundred people were all dancing and singing together, praying and praising the Lord, thankful for the surgery and for Mercy Ships.  They really get into it; it blesses me to see how blessed they feel by what we do.  I can’t think of anything equivalent in our culture.  Maybe a football game comes closest for group enthusiasm—but that seems so shallow in comparison.  Not many lives or families are profoundly impacted for good by football.

      Several patients gave their testimony of how the surgery has impacted their lives.  One was a woman who was speaking on behalf of her father.  He had been losing his sight for the last ten years, and it had gotten so bad that he could no longer care for himself.  He called her to say that he was going to hang himself because she was his only daughter and he didn’t want to burden her with his care.  She gathered up what little money she could and took him to the hospital, but they wanted $500 for the surgery, totally out of reach.  She heard that our surgeries were free, so she managed to bring her father to Douala for screening; he had his surgery six weeks ago, and now he can see.  Stories like this remind me, at least a little bit, of what it must be like to be poor and unable to meet basic needs.  I am so rich, so blessed in both material and spiritual things.

     Update on recent events:  Last week we hosted a ship tour for all our eye team day crew and two of their family members each—63 guests in all.  Just getting that many people onto and off of the ship is quite an undertaking due to security, and entertaining and touring that many people without adversely impacting the rest of the ship takes some planning.  It went well, however; I think that they really appreciated it.

     I did go see the chimpanzees last Saturday as planned.  The attached picture gives you a glimpse.  Thanks to the dusty dirt road we traveled, I came home with carrot-orange hair.  I should have gotten a picture of that!  Anyway, it was a tiring but fun day.  I doubt I make any more excursions, but you never know.

     With scheduling coming to an end in two weeks, we will have to let most of the day crew go.  Of course, they knew it was coming, but it is still a painful process.  I don’t know how hard it will be for them to find other jobs.  In many countries, it is very hard indeed.  We will do all we can for them with letters of recommendation, but when you’ve worked closely with people for six months, the ties are not easily broken, especially when you send them into an uncertain future.

--

  Marilyn 

2018-02-22

"A few cameo shots of patients"

     Two patients caught my attention at the YAG celebration this morning.  One was an old man, bent back, shuffling gait, white cane used for walking.  He had cataract surgery six weeks ago, and now he can see.  We generally start the celebration with dancing and singing.  This old fellow was out there with the rest of them, shuffling his feet energetically and pounding the floor with his cane as he sang.  It was his new use of his cane that caught my attention.

     The second man I noticed was young, very tall, very thin, very long fingers.  I think he has Marfan’s Syndrome, a genetic condition that causes premature cataracts among other things.  He is the only son of an ailing mother.  He was a student until he was too blind to read and had to drop out.  His mother has had to care for him in recent years; the future looked bleak for the pair of them.  His mother heard of Mercy Ships on the radio and brought him to a screening.  His surgery went well; he plans to resume his education, and he can now care for himself and for his mother.

     Then there was the lady who had been told by the local specialists that she couldn’t have cataract surgery because the eye was too damaged inside.  So instead, she brought her father for screening for his cataracts.  His surgery was so successful that she decided she’d get screened herself.  Her surgery was six weeks ago.  Even though she does have some loss of vision due to a damaged retina, she has better vision now than she had before surgery, and she is quite pleased.

   

     Sometimes I measure success in less dramatic ways.  Last September, we had a pterygium patient who had a complication.  His blood pressure was very high, and he developed a peri-orbital bleed when they tried to do the local block anesthesia.  He was sent away to let the blood re-absorb and to get his blood pressure under control.  He came again for surgery in January, but again his blood pressure was too high.  He came again today to be re-checked, still hoping for surgery.  His blood pressure was under much better control—still high by western standards, but pretty acceptable here.  But, since he’d had the bleed before, Dr. Glenn felt it was too risky to do surgery with an even slightly elevated blood pressure.  The man was so gracious about being told no after all these months of hoping.  But, looking on the bright side, his blood pressure used to be dangerously high and now it is not.  Perhaps we’ve done him a good turn if we’ve convinced him to continue with his BP medication—maybe he won’t have a stroke.  We had opportunity to teach him how to minimize the pterygium growth, and we gave him some sunglasses that fit over his eyeglasses, so maybe we helped with the original problem, even though we couldn’t do the surgery.

     We have a three day weekend this week, and most of the people at the team house are leaving town to sightsee somewhere.  I would have been pretty much stranded at the house, but they arranged for me to have a berth on the ship for the weekend.  It’s in a ten-berth cabin filled with young women—should be interesting!  I’m looking forward to it.  I would imagine it’s an upper bunk…

--

  Marilyn Neville

 

Sharon M. Himsl

Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011. 
Published with Evernight Teen: 
~~The Shells of Mersing

Africa Mercy - Cool Rescue, Feeding Program: One Nurse's Story

More from Marilyn in Africa....  Sorry these postings are so late!  My friend, as you know, is in Africa serving as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. She emails me and I share her words with you. For those of you who know nothing of  Marilyn's story, the Africa Mercy is a hospital ship that travels the African coast with a crew of nurses and doctors. They come from all over to give of their time as volunteers. 

(January)

2018-01-04

"Cool Rescue"

     I love the “coincidences” that sometimes happen around here, and I just heard a cool one.

   

      Background: Sometimes, if women have days of prolonged labor, the uterus and surrounding tissues get damaged from the pressure of the baby.  The tissue breaks down, creating fistulas (holes, tunnels) between the uterus and the bladder or the uterus and the rectum.  The baby always dies, and, if the woman doesn’t die also, she may end up incontinent of urine and/or feces.  This is a devastating condition.  Very often, the husband divorces her, her family puts her out of the house, and everyone pretty much shuns her because she smells bad and contaminates everything she touches.  The cure is surgery, but very often it is not available.  Some of these women suffer for decades as social outcasts.

     

     We planned an extensive women’s fistula repair program for this field service; the government assured us that there were many women needing our services here.  For whatever reason, though, we have had trouble finding them.  In fact, there was not enough work to keep the OB surgeons busy, and they went home before Christmas, intending to return in February.  They had done a number of surgeries before they left, but everyone seemed to be healing well, and it seemed safe for the surgeons to go home for the holidays.

   

      So, Christmas comes.  One of the fistula-repair women developed an abscess and needed remedial surgery.  The only surgeon left on the ship is Dr. Gary, and he specializes from the neck up.  OB is not his thing, and surgical specialties are not interchangeable. What to do?  Well…it “just so happened” that an anesthesiologist on board had his mother visiting for Christmas.  His mother was a recently retired OB doctor, but she’d never been to the ship before, and came only as a mother, not a surgeon.  But, since there was a need... mother and son did the necessary surgery together, and it all ended well.

   

      God sometimes works in “coincidental” ways, quietly, without fanfare, to protect and to provide what we need for the work we’re doing here.  This strikes me as a case in point.

--

  Marilyn Neville

25Jan18  

"The Feeding Program"

     One of the surgeries that we perform on the ship is the repair of cleft lips and palates, usually on babies and children.  Sometimes the deformities are so profound that the babies can’t suck.  Without surgery, they lose weight and eventually die.  Often, by the time we find these babies, they are too malnourished and sickly to withstand surgery, and so we have an infant feeding program to fatten them up.

     Paul was such a child.  He was pretty much on death’s door when his mother brought him to us.  Check out the pictures attached to see the transformation.

     Cool program, huh?

--

  Marilyn  

   

 

Africa Mercy - Milestones, Guinea, Update on Frank: One Nurse's Story

More from Marilyn in Africa....  Sorry these postings are so late! My friend, as you know, is in Africa serving as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. She emails me and I share her words with you. For those of you who know nothing of  Marilyn's story, the Africa Mercy is a hospital ship that travels the African coast with a crew of nurses and doctors. They come from all over to give of their time as volunteers. 



(December)

2017-12-09

"Milestone Patient"

Ten years ago, Dr. Strauss did the first surgery on the Africa Mercy.

Recently, he did the 30,000th surgery.  That's a lot of surgeries for

one ship!  I thought you'd like to see this famous patient.

--

  Marilyn Neville

2017-12-14

"Guinea is next"

     The Africa Mercy is planning to go to Guinea next year.  I was

     there in 2013, before the Ebola outbreak.  It was a poor country

     then; it is much worse now.  Ebola devastated the health industry,

     among other things:  it seems that the physicians and nurses either

     died or fled.   I have heard that there is no anesthesia machine in

     the entire country, which means no surgeries.  There are no

     ophthalmologists at all, and the once-thriving eye clinic in

     Contonou is barely functional now.  Furthermore, Ebola survivors

     have a host of eye problems as a result of the disease, including

     cataracts.  (27% of those with the disease did survive…)  It sounds

     like we will have our work cut out for us!  I am excited about the

     prospect of going to Guinea.  I have applied, but of course, I

     don’t know yet if they will select me as part of the team.  Stay

     tuned…

    Meanwhile, back in Cameroon, we are still doing surgeries and

    training surgeons.  Patricia is a Cameroon surgeon who has been

    training with Dr. Glenn Strauss for the last several months.  She

    had never actually done surgery before she came to us, but she

    caught on quickly and has become pretty proficient.  Not as fast as

    Dr. Glenn, of course…but who is?  She plans to set up a surgical

    clinic in the northern part of Cameroon, in an area that currently

    has no eye surgeries available.  Mercy Ships plans to equip her with

    the surgical tools she needs and send her off with our blessing

    soon.  Starting in January, we will have a new Cameroonian trainee,

    one who plans to operate in Douala or Yaounde, I believe.  It’s one

    thing to blow into town and do surgeries; it’s another to invest

    time and resources in the surgeons who will remain after we leave.

    Of course, not all countries have the health infrastructure to allow

    a surgeon to thrive, but Cameroon does.  (Guinea doesn’t…no training

    program next year.)

     The rainy season is over, followed almost immediately by the

     harridan wind season.  We’re pretty far from the Sahara Desert, so

     we don’t get sandstorms, just dust.  It looks like a permanent case

     of LA smog out there.  We haven’t seen the sun in days.  It does

     keep it cooler, though.  It is merely “overcast” hot and humid

     instead of truly tropical-African hot and humid.  Works for me!

     I’m surprised we don’t see more lung problems, though, if they

     breathe this dust every year.  Maybe this dust isn’t corrosive like

     smog, and our little lung cilia are able to keep up.

     The patient on my heart today is a man I had to deny surgery

     yesterday.  His eye qualified for surgery, but his foot didn’t.  He

     asked a good question, “What does my foot have to do with my eye?

     Why can’t you do surgery?”  But the risk of his spreading the

     infection from his foot wound to the newly operated eye is

     significant, and that would be devastating to his eye, destroying

     what vision he does have, and if not treated aggressively, maybe

     even worse consequences.  I encouraged him to see a doctor, get his

     foot properly treated with antibiotics, and come back to schedule

     eye surgery when the foot wound is not infected.  I only hope that

     he is able to afford to do that, and I hope that he heals in time

     to be scheduled.  He’d had the wound for many years, and he seemed

     pretty discouraged.  I’m such a softy, I probably would have

     explained the risks and allowed him to choose to have the surgery

     anyway…but I’m not the surgeon, and it’s not my call.  On the other

     hand, I had just such a patient two weeks ago, with a

     long-standing, infected, non-healing leg wound.  I gave him the

     same instructions, and he did what I suggested.  He returned this

     week to show me his now-healthy, now-healing wound; I got to

     schedule his eye surgery!  Maybe yesterday’s patient will do

     likewise.

I've included a picture of Dr. Patricia doing YAG under Dr. Strauss'

supervision.

 --

  Marilyn Neville

  

2017-12-22

"Update on Frank"

Good news!  The Communications Team visited Frank again recently.  Remember how, before surgery, Frank wouldn’t smile for love nor money?  He was so depressed, with a hopeless-looking future.  Well, this visit, he never stopped smiling.  He was so joyous, so full of life and hope.  Before surgery, he was completely blind.  He couldn’t go anywhere unless someone led him by the hand.  He couldn’t do much of anything; he certainly couldn’t hold a job.  He lived in a very small world—his home, a one-room shack with no door.  Remember how disappointed we all were immediately after surgery, when he didn’t get the dramatic improvement that we expected?   Well, it seems that his vision is still slowly improving, at least somewhat.  He now has “count fingers” vision—still rated as blind, but considerably more useful than nothing.  He can walk independently, a freedom he treasures highly.  He is gradually venturing further and further from home by himself.  In fact, he is now looking for a job!  I suppose he could be focused on disappointment, that his vision is still very poor after such high hopes.  Instead, he has chosen to be thankful and to treasure what he does have.  He could be the poster child for an anti-grumbling campaign.  Certainly, he blesses me by his example.  Pretty nice Christmas present, don’t you think?

--

  Marilyn