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 - Frank's Story: 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. 

2017-10-19, Thursday
"Frank"

Cataract surgeries are well underway now. Our goal is to do 30
cataract surgeries per day, but for now, we are only doing 20 per
day. Since this is a new country for Mercy Ships, we don't yet
have widespread recognition or reputation. Many people have not
heard about us; others are cautious, waiting to see how others
fare. But already, within a couple of weeks, the line of people
waiting for screening has grown from about 200 per day to over 600
per day. I predict that very soon, we will be operating at full
strength.

I want to tell you about one young man. Frank is age 17 and has
been blind for 11 years with bilateral cataracts. The
communications department is always on the lookout for good stories
to use in advertising Mercy Ships, and we thought Frank's story
would be of interest. Frank and his parents agreed to have a media
team follow him through the whole process. Amber was the nurse who
scheduled his surgery and who suggested his story, so she was
invited to go with the media team to visit Frank in his home before
surgery. I'm going to quote from her blog about that visit:

"Frank's home wasn't much, but they welcomed us in with such joy. I
was able to meet Frank's Father, older brother, Mother and the
little neighbor baby. There was no way we would have found his
house on our own, so Frank's older brother met us at one of the
major junctions and drove in with us to guide our path. As we
turned down a few dirt roads off the busy city streets, we arrived
at Frank’s house. We pulled up next to a muddy river, filled with
trash and old canoes that were used to transport these huge logs
that were brought in from an island to be chopped up and sold in
the city for firewood.

On the other side of the road was an old cargo shipping container
with a few sheets of metal lined up to create a wall in between one
doorway and the next. There was a metal piece that served as a door
that led into a back alley-like area which led to Frank's house and
a few others. Below our feet was uneven dirt mixed with dirty water
and trash, along with old wood shavings from the woodworkers that
worked right outside the front of their house. Frank’s brother led
us down the narrow pathway, right to their front door.

Their front door was a thin, once-white sheet that had many tears
on it, hanging from a bar above the doorway. The walls were wood
panels that you could see through- occasionally with metal pieces
patching up the larger gaps, nailed to the side. The roof was made
of tin and as we sat down in their living room it started to rain.
It was hard to hear each other talk from the piercing of the drops
above our heads. Suddenly I began to feel drops land on my shoulder
from a rusted hole in the roof. The floors were mostly compacted
down dirt, but when the rain started to fall, small areas became a
bit muddy. The walls were mostly bare, beside an old wedding
picture of Frank's Father and his first wife, Frank's Mother. There
was an old box TV in the corner; it was on when we came in, but had
a very fuzzy and distorted image on the screen.

We spent about 3 hours at Frank's house and learned a lot about him
and his life. He was pretty shy-- and like most teenagers,
responded to the questions with one word answers. After we
finished getting to know him a little better, the communications
team asked if they could do a little filming and photography, which
I will be sure to share as soon as the story is finished. I watched
for a little bit as they shot Frank's pictures. As I watched Frank
stand there, getting his picture taken- there was this emptiness in
him—a blank stare and a look that just went right into my soul. I
later found out from his brother that, as a child, Frank was one of
those kids who was always happy and smiling. He loved making people
laugh and being the center of attention... The entire time we were
at his house, we could hardly get a smile out of him. I think the
only time I even saw a smirk is when we complimented him on what a
handsome, young man he was."

Amber goes on to say what an impact this visit had on her. If you
want to read her entire blog, it’s http://ambersmids.blogspot.com.
Meanwhile, Frank had his surgery a couple of days ago. It was a
bit disappointing when we took the patches off the day after
surgery—his vision hadn’t improved very much. Frank was stoic, but
I think it hit him pretty hard. BUT, his eye pressure was high and
his corneas were cloudy—that happens frequently immediately after
surgery. A little medication and a little time, and his vision
improved quite a bit. It is likely to continue to improve over the
next few days.

So, stay tuned…

Marilyn


2017-10-20,
"Sadness"

Yesterday was a rough day for the eye team, and Amber in
particular. It was an even rougher day for Frank and his family.
He returned for a recheck of his eyes yesterday afternoon. The
cataracts are gone, the new lenses are in position, the corneas are
clear, the eye pressures are normal, the retinas look great…but he
doesn’t see much of anything. Woody feels that his vision will not
improve any further; perhaps the neural pathways didn’t develop
properly. What really makes the whole situation worse, however, is
that by making him a communications story, we raised his hopes and
expectations. We couldn’t have known…but that isn’t helping much
right now. At this point, there’s nothing more we can do for
Frank. We’ve prayed for his healing, which the Lord could
certainly do without our assistance, but if he doesn’t, Frank will
not be able to work, or even cross the street without assistance.

I doubt I would have shared Frank’s story if I’d known the ending
before I wrote about him. It’s always more fun to talk about the
successes, like the lady today who was so exuberant in her
rejoicing. But the reality is, we are limited in what we can do.
The eye is a very complicated organ, most of which we cannot
repair. Nine out of ten people who come to us with eye problems
cannot be helped. Frank’s story was a sobering reminder of our
finiteness.

I suppose that I should write something uplifting to change the
mood of this email…but I haven’t the heart for it right now. The
eye team will recover and go on…but today is a day for grieving.

Marilyn


10/22/2017
"Explanation of Frank's Poor Vision?"

Amber wrote a beautiful blog about the whole experience with Frank. I
would encourage anyone interested to check it out at
http://ambersmids.blogspot.com/. Not only does it give further
information about Frank, it reveals Amber's tender heart.

One possible explanation for Frank's poor vision despite a successful
surgery and healthy-looking eyes could be that he had small, central
cataracts at birth. He would have used his peripheral vision until the
cataracts grew too large, but he never used the central portion of his
visual field due to the cataracts. Ordinarily, our neural connections
develop in response to stimulation; unused neurons do not develop. If
the neurons are not stimulated by the age of five or so, the process
solidifies, and later stimulation no longer triggers neural development.

If Frank had had surgery at age one or two, he'd be fine. But at age
17, it was too late. So, what he has now, and will have, is a bit of
peripheral vision, but not enough to be functional.

We are planning to do some pediatric cataract surgery in January.
Hopefully, we'll get to those kids in time...


Marilyn

Sharon M. Himsl

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

Africa Mercy - Quick Update: One Nurse's Story

My friend Marilyn 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. 




"Quick Update"

10/2/2017

I meant to attach this picture to the last email. I think it
interesting how they cope with rain while riding a motorcycle. There
are only two people on this bike, but I've seen up to four on a single
bike. I have yet to see a helmet in use. I do wonder what the casualty
rate is... An amusing side note...each morning we count the hearses
lined up in front of the hospital where our eye clinic is located...is
it like lawyers chasing ambulances at home?

Yesterday was our first day of surgery, so today was our first day of
post-op appointments. Nine patients had surgery (10 were scheduled, but
one got too afraid). They all had at least some improvement in vision,
but often, the day after surgery, there is still enough edema to blur
their vision. Most will experience even more improvement over the next
couple of weeks.

Today we scheduled one 18-year old for surgery with general anesthesia
(instead of the usual local block) because he is severely mentally
handicapped and engages in self-mutilation for stimulation. Our hope is
that if he can see, maybe his world will expand and he won't have to
live in the isolation that he currently experiences.

If you are interested, my workmate Amber writes a really interesting
blog, complete with pictures. You can check it out at:
ambersmids.blogspot.com. She even has a video of our day crew singing
at the end of a work day. Too bad that I'm technologically
challenged...but Amber's blog will give you a fuller taste of our life
here, if you are interested. The other two pictures I've attached to
this email are of Amber and me at work, scheduling patients for surgery.

Until next time,

Marilyn

Africa Mercy - Two Weeks Gone: One Nurse's Story

My friend Marilyn 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. 




"Two Weeks Gone"
 2017-09-30

Hard to believe I've been here two weeks already.  "Time flies when

you're having fun" seems to hold true once again.  And I certainly have

been having a wonderful time...not "fun" exactly, just joy in the

journey.  I was going to take a day trip to an animal preserve and

botanical garden a couple of hours away, but the captain made it a "no

go" zone due to demonstrations and unrest in that area.  Perhaps I'll

have another opportunity if/when the political climate settles down.

Anyway, I haven't seen much of the country--just the path from the team

house to the ship, to the eye clinic, and back.

 Douala itself seems peaceful.  There are "no go" areas in the city, but

 it's due to thieves and rough characters in those areas, not political

 unrest.  As African port cities go, Douala seems more prosperous than

 some.  There are many paved streets (some major potholes, to be

 sure...), round-abouts, and traffic lights.  Lots of traffic, of

 course, both taxi and private vehicles, and probably ten times as many

 motorbikes as cars.  Driving is "situational" rather than

 rule-governed, so cars nose into intersections to muscle their way

 through the congestion, and motorbikes slither all around everyone,

 going every which way.  Pedestrians stroll through traffic with a

 casualness that I certainly wouldn't feel.  I don't think I'd ever be

 comfortable driving in Africa!  It takes a certain aggressiveness--but

 not too much--to drive in conformity with local expectations.  You

 don't want to play chicken with the big trucks, but if you hesitate and

 yield to oncoming traffic,  you'll never get home.

We continue to screen for cataract patients four days a week.  Of those

who come to the initial screening, the likely surgical candidates are

scheduled for secondary screening at the clinic in batches of about

60/day.  Of those, the ones that are approved for surgery then have

their eye measurements done and are given a date to come to the ship for

surgery.  These first two steps of the process have been underway for

several days now, and they seem to be going well.  Surgery itself starts

on Monday.

On Friday, the eye team debriefed a bit.  Several of the day crew said

how hard it was to turn people away that we are not able to help.

Rolland told of one man who wanted to know if perhaps someone in Europe

or the States could have helped him if he'd had the money to go.  When

we told him that no one could have helped him, not even in Europe or

America, because his eyes were too damaged, it was a moment of

revelation for Rolland.  As he said, "I suddenly realized that money

can't buy everything."  That's a pretty profound truth for an ambitious

young man.  One wonders how it will impact the course of his life.

At the Hope Center, an eight-year-old girl had diarrhea.  Poo was

everywhere--her clothes, her bed, the floor.  The facilitator (crew

member, in charge of the shift) and one of the day crew set to work

cleaning her up, reassuring her, loving on her.  Another day crew person

was watching.  Later, he said, "When I saw that mess, I just wanted to

get away.  Even when my own baby has a poopy diaper, I get repulsed and

hand her to my wife.  Why is that?  I want to change, and have more love

and compassion."  Moral of the story:  It's not just the patients whose

lives are transformed around here.  Ours are, too.

For me, seeing life through another's eyes, like the stories above,

rattles my complacency, my sense of entitlement, and makes me ever more

profoundly thankful for all I have, all the opportunities I have had,

and for the incredible privilege of being here.

--

  Marilyn  

Sharon M. Himsl

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