Double the trouble

In nursing, it seems that things come in waves. Sometimes we see a lot of one thing at once, and then we won't see it again for a while. This makes perfect sense for infectious disease, but it happens through out all illnesses and injuries. For instance, I remember seeing many dog bites in a short period of time, then not seeing any for a year. This happens on the wards on board as well. Maybe it's because they schedule it that way, maybe not. But often, it seems many patients become friends as they face their post op days together. This happened with two little 3 year old cleft lip/palate boys.

They both were little rascals pre-op and taught us to be very patient post op. I took care of one of them a lot. I was warned pre-op that he cried for 10 min after an axillary temperature was taken. So, it didn't take long to figure out that he was going to be a tough patient. As predicted, he was very fussy post op and would cry any time a nurse would approach. As time passed, he would let a nurse approach his bed with out crying, but as soon as the blue gloves were donned, he would begin to cry. Then, as he became more comfortable he would let us play with him, and even let us pick him up and hold him. He would let me hold him on our trips to deck seven in the afternoon. He loved looking over the rail at the fish near the perimeter of the ship and loved waving at passing boats. He would point at different things and make the universal cleft lip grunt. It is a secret language between all cleft kids, they all know it, a grunting tone with a point to communicate their needs. As they heal, their language will be able to develop and they will learn to communicate normally. 

It was so fun to watch the two little guys together. They would cry together and play together. Their mama's would help each other out by watching each others boys as they left the bed to shower. As the healed they both began to warm up to the nurses in the same way. It was so fun to play with them. About a week post op, cleft lip/palate patients get their bandages removed and their new face is revealed. This happened first to the little guy that I took care of a lot, then to his little friend. It was amazing to see them look at one another and point at their lip where the bandage was removed and then point at their self and tell their little story in grunts. It seemed they were telling of how there was a bandage on me too then it was taken off and now we both are free to smile and be happy boys!

Leaving the nest

I often day dream about what my Mom would think about my life today. It has been five and a half years since she died and so much has changed.




Throughout college I always stayed pretty close to home. I went to school at The University of Northern Colorado which is only forty five minuets from my hometown Longmont, Colorado.  I often was back home spending time with a long term boyfriend I had at the time, hanging out with my Mom and Dad, doing laundry and getting home cooked meals. I think this pattern I had wasn't something my Mom was too fond of. She had moved away from her home, Juniata Nebraska, pretty much as soon as she could. I think I worried her that I stayed so close that I was not stretching my wings enough 

I had applied to the nursing program at the end of my sophomore year and been denied.  It rocked my world when I did not get accepted. I knew that I was supposed to be a nurse, nursing made my soul sing. It was what I had always wanted to be for as long as I can remember.  It was devastating.  I began to look at other schools and started making plans B, C and D.  I had to take some extra classes for different schools requirements.  It was an awkward time in my life feeling very out of synch with the perfect plan I had made;  Two years of pre-requests, get into nursing school, two years of that and then dream come true time.  It was during this transition year that my mom got sick with breast cancer.

Hindsight is always better than twenty twenty though isn't it?  That year 'in between' was part of a bigger plan. I was able to be at home a lot in the fall to help out. I knew she appreciated me being there, she thought of me as her own personal nurse. I now look back and cherish the time I spent with her.

She had completed her chemo therapy at the end of the fall and went in for her double mastectomy mid December. While she was sick, she had a very strong premonition that she was going to die. She was very nervous to have surgery for this reason. As she was recovering back in her hospital room after her surgery I vividly remember giving her a hard time that "she was wrong! She was still alive!" We had a good laugh. That was the best Christmas I had ever had, she was feeling great, my whole family was together, we had the best time. It was two days later that she got readmitted with an septic infection. She went right to the ICU and was there for eleven days before she passed away.

The following spring, I withdrew from classes. I took that time off not really knowing what the next step was going to be.  I was able to grieve.  If I had been in the nursing program, I may not have been able to continue.  That period of my life is not a fun memory to think of, I was a hot mess. Thankfully, time continued.  I was able to learn to manage the permanent hole left from her absence.

But, God's plan worked out, as it always does. I got accepted into UNC's nursing program the following summer and graduated spring 2010.

I hate that she wasn't able to be there for the excitement of receiving the thick envelope rather than the thin one from the nursing program after the second time I applied. I wish I could have vented to her about how hard the classes were. And told her about how coffee can be drank at all hours of the day and night with no sleep interruption, when one wakes at six a.m. for a twelve hour clinical after going to bed at two a.m. post care plan construction after seven hours of lecture. I wish she could have known about my preceptorship in Knoxville where I got offered my very first real job. I wish she could have been there to pin me after the five semesters of the hardest work I had ever done. I wish I could call her up and tell her stories of my patients and coworkers.

Most of all, I wish I could tell her that "I did it," I left the nest, became an independent woman. Drove 1,362 miles by myself  in my green Accord to move to a new city to start a job as a real nurse. Tell her that I had my very own one bedroom apartment that I fully furnished. That I learned to pay all my bills and even do my own taxes (something we would always get in a fight over). And now, as I am half way around the world in Africa nursing on a hospital ship, I wish I could tease her about how she used to be worried about my independence.

Before I left for The Congo, my dad gave me a card that read "The 'stay at home girl' is on her way to help others in the Congo, wow! Love Always, Mom & Dad." Thanks Dad :) I wrote this post months ago before he gave me the card.  It makes me smile and cry every time I read it.

Our last family picture at Elizabeth's college graduation

Vernel

We got to take care of the sweetest boy on D ward, 6 year old Vernel. Every child is special, of course, but some children have an extra special spirit that steals the hearts of many. This is how Vernel is. He is a life loving, playful, and joyous boy! He was born with a cleft lip. He is too young to understand that he looked different. He knew not of the way the world treats those who are different. The cruelty that exists for 'the other.' His parents loved him so, and wanted to give him the best life they could provide, so he was brought to Mercy Ships to repair his cleft. All our hearts were stolen from the first smile we saw! It was such a joy to be able to take care of him! Below are the pictures before his surgery, and after his stay with Mercy ships and his journey home. I am so thankful that the media team captures so many special moments. It really affirms the work we do on board. They provide us with an eye to see the whole picture. They did a great job capturing the joy of Vernel and the joy his family has for him. His uncle greeted him saying, "now you are such a handsome boy!" It is sort of funny to me, Vernel seems a little confused as to what all the fuss is about. I guess probably from his perspective, he never really saw a reflection of himself, he only saw the way people responded to his joyful spirit. So it is sort of funny to watch his facial expressions as he is greeted. Probably from his view, he was fine, then was put through pain and is now the same as before.  His family however, sees that now his life can continue to have his joyful spirit bless us all because he will no longer will be viewed as 'the other.'

Language barriers

I had the last weekend off, so a couple of friends and I decided to go out in town. We headed toward the grand marche, the large open air market, but along the way stumbled upon a celebration in the soccer field and decided to check it out. We were at the gate looking around trying to figure out what was going on, the french speaking ticket seller was not much help. Nor were all the french speaking locals handing in their tickets. Luckily there was a man that spoke English at the gate to help us buy our tickets and he explained that there would be live music, singing and dancing, that we would enjoy seeing their culture, so he invited us to join. He said he would be in one of the groups performing. It sounded good to us! We paid our 1000 CFA and headed in. 

The music had already started, so we were standing in the back, taking it all in. Then our English speaking friend from before found us and told us he had a spot where we could sit and see everything. So he ushered us to the very front row! We sat under a fancy looking tent with who looked like very official people. It is not unusual in Point Noire to see people dressed up in dresses and suits, but the people we were next to took dressed up to the next level and were looking sharp. We were the only white people there, so everyone was staring at us. This is not unusual here, but I am still not used to it. There was electricity wired to the field to power the speakers and amps, and it also powered the media team with their cameras, which were pointed at us 93% of the time.

Many people there had flags and t-shirts with a specific man on them, so we thought that maybe we were at some sort of political thing. We had heard earlier that we wouldn't be able to take a cab close to the grand marche due to roads being shut down for a government function. So we guessed what we were at had to do with that. Then Solveig, my Norwegian friend, decided to text a friend back in Norway to look it up for us. She said that the man was the founder for a religion, that he was sort of the "profit" for this group. So, we put five and seven together and decided we were at some sort of cult like religious group.... We had a lot of fun listening and dancing to the music, and took comfort in the fact that there were a lot of kids present. So we went with it! Plus we felt if we had left from our front row seats we would be acting very impolitely! We enjoyed all the music and laughed a lot at the cameras in our faces, and I was even asked to dance by one of the guys in the crowd (the camera caught every second of that!) Thankfully there was no "koolaid" to be drank, because we maybe would have jumped right on that band waggon! "Note to self: Learn French!"

The language barrier is so difficult! Here is a youtube video (please know there is very explicit language) that perfectly describes how I feel most of the time in Congo! Me in Congo

Here is a link to the group Guy Emile Loufoua Cetikouabo

I sort of feared an impending electrical fire

Our friend, guy in yellow fourth from the left

Note the camcorder

D Ward

Here on the AFM, there are five different wards filled with patients. I work in D ward, where all the "Max Fax" patients go.  Things involving the head turn up in this ward. In Tennessee, we called these types of patients "OMFS." There, those were are favorite patients because all the OMFS residents were always very polite and nice on the eyes. Here on the AFM, they are my favorite patients to care for, because the transformations that happen post operatively are so dramatic.  When a massive tumor is removed from a patients face, one that has most likely been growing for years, the transformation is incredible. The face is such an important part of human life, we all value faces, it is what we innately look for in each other. When this part of a person is disfigured, they become unseen and ignored.  My favorite part of my job is during dressing changes, the patient will hold up a mirror and see them see themselves, tumor removed, they look in awe at the reflection. It is beautiful. It makes my soul dance!

It took me a bit to get used to the flow of the work here. I have only had one job until now. So everything I know, is what I was taught at this one (actually two) facilitates. I had to learn where things are, how to chart, the flow of the orders, and the time management of the patient load. To be honest, I was not loving it at first. I felt scattered, and inefficient. I think many nurses can agree, that it is really frustrating to feel like a new grad again. Many of us are control freaks and a little OCD with our work. When that gets thrown off, it is not fun! This is exactly how I felt as I was trying to get used to this new way to nurse. Thankfully, the thing about nursing that is universal, no matter where you are, is the way nurses care for their patients. I stood firm on this and struggled to get my groove. By the second week on the ward, I had my rhythm and fell in love with D ward.  The pictures below are from the weekend D ward and I hit it off. It was about a week ago.

All pictures here were taken by the Mercy Ships communication team :)