The End Drawing Near

The end of the outreach in Liberia is drawing to a close. You can tell this most by the amount of people leaving to go back home. I've had to say goodbye to more friends this week than any other. Friends that have been here since I've arrived have gone and I feel slightly disoriented; like at any moment I will pass them in the hall or they will be there on the ward as I go to work. I've met many lovely people during my time here and I think that is one of the highlights here. You meet people with a similar desire or pull to serve those who need it and there seems to be an instant kinship. But one of the things that I don't think I would ever get used to is the constant turn over. I'm used to the mission trips where you arrive at the destination as a group, you go through the phases (honeymoon phase, homesickness, hostility, etc) as a group, and then you leave as a group. But here you arrive on your own and leave before the others do. That's the main reason I decided to extend my stay until the end of the outreach. I feel there's more of a closure. I get to be involved in the cleaning and the start of the packing up the ship. I get to see the patients through to the end.

Anyway, needless to say, there are many "going away parties" happening on the ship. The most recent one was a night of pizza and a movie. The common past time here on the ship. It was fun to order pizza, sit in the lecture room in our socks and blankets, and watch a DVD on the projector.

Sacrifice

One of my favorite patients and her mom is back on the ship. I had a long talk with Lovetee this afternoon and she shared some of her story with me. She lives about 6 hours north of Monrovia in Ganta with her only daughter who is around 3 years old. Her daughter had contracted Malaria; which is a very common occurrence but had to be treated. She took her daughter to the clinic to receive treatment. The daughter needed IV fluids, which she received, but the IV ended up shifting and the fluid infused into the surrounding tissue. Oh, and the IV was in her scalp; she must have been so dehydrated that it was hard to find a vein anywhere else. For some reason, the tissue became necrotic and a large ulcer developed, exposing the bone.
She had to seek special medical care and was recommended to come and find that in Monrovia. How was a single mom supposed to carry her toddler to a town 6 hours from her home when she doesn't have a car? She said she had to beg and finally was able to gather enough money and food to make the journey. They arrived at the hospital in town and luckily her brother lived nearby and she was able to stay with him.
The daughter stayed at this hospital for months to receive dressing changes in hopes the skin will begin to heal and cover the gaping wound on her head. At this point, Lovetee says "Uh, Jodi. How much we suffered." But she then heard of Mercy Ships and made her way here. She then says, "I remember I had tears running down my face. I was so desperate for my girl to get help." I happened to be her nurse before her surgery and was able to walk them both down the hall to pre-op and pray with them. "I still have the picture you made of us together. You were my first white friend."
The daughter's skin graft is healing well, although they had to return to keep getting daily dressing changes, there's only a small area that is not completely dry yet.
She gives God the glory and is thankful for His perfect timing. If she would have waited she may have missed the ship altogether. To me she is a picture, among many, of a mother working hard and giving all she had to save her daughter.

Visiting with friends

Last Thursday 2 nurse friends and I visited one of our former patients. Joanna has a way of telling her story; and although what happened was harmful, she turns it into praising God. She had fallen onto her cook fire that was in the dark, communal hallway outside of her family's one room apartment. She received burns to almost the entire right side of her body, contracting her hand in the flexed position, unable to use it. She had come to mercy ships last year to receive surgery to release that scar and also to graft the ulcers on her right leg. After around three failed skin grafts it was decided that she had poor circulation in her legs. But as she tells this story, every other sentence is giving praise to God for bring her through this. She tells of how at one point she had struggled with Him, asking Him "why" after the skin grafts failed. But she talks of how Job never cursed God but kept believing Him and he was blessed by Him in receiving double of what he lost. She's believing that too. Today all of her wounds are healed except for a quarter sized area on her ankle, which is almost healed. She's a beautiful woman.
We had a lovely time with her and her family. She had cooked the traditional Liberian meal of "foo-foo" with "slippery soup." Foo-foo in one bowl and the soup in the other. We all sat down around the small table, washed our hands, and everyone dug in! Grabbing a pinch of the foo-foo and dipping it into the soup. Don't chew, just gulp it down! The foo-foo is a root that is grown here (called cassava); it's ground-up and boiled. It has this sticky no taste quality to it, kinda reminds me of very thick mashed potatoes (the instant kind). The soup is the cassava leaves chopped into small bits with oil, pepper (she didn't put too much;), and fish with the fish eggs still intact.
We had a great time!

We then met up with one of our translators, Emmanuel, as we were driving down the narrow dirt road through the small village. He works as a registered nurse at this private clinic when he's not going to class or working on the Ship. He took time to show us around the clinic that currently has an Egyptian doctor, a couple of physician assistants and some nurses. It's always a busy day here. They have a range of services; emergency, vaccinations, labor/delivery, IV treatment, administering medication, and small surgeries on the weekends. Like every place here, the patient needs to first buy the medication/supplies before being seen and treated.

It's good to know that there are places like this that are scattered around the area.

In all, a good day! I love getting off the ship and spending time with Liberian friends. And it just happened to be Liberia's Thanksgiving Day. What better way to celebrate.

Victorious Faith Children's Refugee Home

You might have remembered me mention this place and these children in previous blogs but I love them and want to talk more about them.
I’ve been going pretty regularly with Ines, who works in Mercy Ministries. And in retro-spec I’m so thankful for that. Going once to play with the kids is fun but as you keep visiting you’re able to remember their names and start seeing their personality and recognizing their different gifts. You’re able to recognize who are the leaders, who are the more sensitive, who are the singers and artists, etc.
Anyway, I think these kids are really special. They absolutely love to do skits, sing and dance. We had “children’s service” one Sunday a few weeks ago and a group of them came to the ship. They came to the front and sang and dance in front of everyone and did so well. I was so proud of them! And today when we went for our weekly visit, we sang as a group while Ousman (one of the older boys) played the drum like usual and then a few of the older boys did a dance. And the joy on they’re faces was contagious, they were obviously having so much fun.
It’s a common practice when we go that if someone, who has been going regularly, is leaving for home the kids will gather around this person and sing a departing song and pray for them. Well, today was such a day. After they sang their song all 30 little voices rose high in prayer, asking the Lord to bless and protect this person. Ousman would say something like “Lets pray that God will fill her with His Spirit and bless her for coming here and showing us love when we have nothing to give to her” and then they would all collectively pray their individual prayers out loud. This always brings tears to my eyes and I don’t really know how I will get through it when my turn comes up. Little do they know how much they really do give to us.