A New Day

After a long night the swelling eases, and he begins to learn to breathe through his restored face and palate. Sparkle has returned to his eyes and his mother finally relaxes on his bed. They play catch with a blue balloon and enter into all the activity and energy in D ward.

Would she have made this choice had she known how difficult that first night would be? How could she deny him that chance? His journey is not yet over, but correction at such an early age may allow him to quickly catch up to the others in speech and as his scars fade he will take his place among the boys of his community.

I am so blessed to work here. Gary Parker is so much more than a gifted surgeon. His compassion and love for the poor and broken of Africa is the foundation of hope and trust that marks Mercy Ships. He is a remarkable artist. Creating works not on canvas or sculpted from marble but rather molded from scarred and broken faces. Tissues are carefully dissected, meticulously fashioned and repositioned to form something beautiful. Each patient has his full attention and to each he gives his best work. To those with nothing has been given a gift beyond price. Though not perfect, there is something very special, almost holy, that fills this place. And I have the privilege to work among them.

To the edge

He was born broken. A complete bilateral cleft lip and palate. Not yet 2 years old he would struggle to eat without choking. He would be unable to form the words to tell his mother she was loved. His disability was blatantly evident for all to judge. Rejection from all but the mother who gave him life.

Today, his mother made a monumental decision. She would entrust her son to foreigners who offered the promise of a different destiny. The chance to be whole, and accepted, and welcomed. It took most of he morning but his lip was restored; a palate fashioned from surrounding tissues; and a feeding tube and packs were placed to allow the delicate repair to heal.

But tonight his mother questions her decision. She holds his exhausted frames as he struggles to breathe around the packing holding swollen tissues intact. At times he struggles to breathe, panicky and gasping as his oxygen saturation once again slides into the 80s. Quietly, calmly, she holds him as nurses, at arms length at the desk, respond immediately. He settles - but for how long? When will the next crisis strike?

It will be a long, sleepless night on D ward tonight. He will have to travel right to the edge if he is to see this new life. He will not be alone. His mother will hold him close in her arms all night. Hospital staff will be ever vigilant, and our Heavenly Father will cover this family with grace and peace.

Remember us in your prayers tonight.

Othopedics

It was a change of perspective today as I joined Dr Frank Hayden for a day treating children with orthopedic problems. Frank and his wife Kathleen have been a part of the Mercy Ships orthopedic outreach for the past 5 years. They have helped establish Ponsetti casting programs in many local hospitals enabling patients with club feet to be treated non-surgically with exceptional results. There is usually a block of surgical time reserved for children with needing surgical correction.

Today we offered an opportunity to change the future for a few children. From frozen joints to bowing legs they each struggle with walking and look towards a future that will see them very limited in their mobility. For one, he will likely be completely normal once the casts are removed. For the others, they will see a dramatic improvement in their mobility and a different future.

It is fascinating to share the stories not only of the patients that find hope aboard a vessel in their port, but to  meet those from around the world that have joined together to make it possible.

I can only imagine

This is day 4 in Africa. Sort of.... I can see it from here.

In many ways living and working aboard the Africa Mercy is to be on a small island of Western culture set deep in Africa. It is really difficult to imagine the stories behind the patients that we see each day. Most days our contribution seems so small. Most procedures last an hour or so as gifted, well trained hands blend their skills from across many nations to deliver surgical care. We have seen many patients pass through our doors and hope that for some that we will make a difference.

Such faith. For so many that have never been to a hospital; never really met a "white person; let alone  walk aboard a ship, it is really difficult to imagine that a surgical cure comes with no strings attached. Many have exhausted all of their resources to try to get help for their children. They have nothing.

Stories abound. "They will ask for money from you at the last moment". "They will steal your children". And yet they come. Here are a couple of video stories from this fall.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=VX9bwsrh83w
vimeo.com/75340361

 There are so many more we will never know. A rather ordinary day for us may be truly life changing for an entire family.

There are some very special gifts to prepare for some children tomorrow.

Gary

Sunday reflections

It is Sunday in Pointe Noire. The flight from Toronto to Frankfurt seemed to last forever. My seat mate had some "boundary" and etiquette issues as I found myself sharing far too much of my "personal space" on the cross Atlantic journey. I was poked, jostled, and smothered most of the trip. Although it was a little warm, it was difficult to get much rest as he removed his cardigan, shoes and socks and the beginning of the flight, only to struggle to get dressed again once on descent.

By comparison, the trip to Congo was wonderful. We boarded a smaller 737 yet for some reason it did not have a slot at the gate. Instead we were driven out to the airplane then ran through pouring rain to stand on the stairs waiting our turn to get aboard and out of the showers. There were many free seats so I had an empty seat beside me. The refreshments were frequent, the food was good and the flight relaxing to allow for an extended nap. We left a few passengers in Libreville, Gabon and the remaining 17 of us continued to Congo. Somehow this was not the Africa I remember. No great throngs of arriving passengers; no long waits or hassles to clear customs; collecting baggage within a few minutes; the 4 of us divided between 2 Mercy Ship land rovers and were aboard ship within 45 minutes of arrival.

Scents are such a powerful connection to memory. Just walking from the plane I knew that I was back in Africa. The scent of diesel amid the warm humid evening air. There are no fences surrounding the airport. People sit on the grass beside the runway to watch the aircraft arrive while others walk unhurried across active runways. It must br Africa.

I have seen a few familiar faces, have reacquainted myself with the ship and have settled into my cabin. I start work tomorrow. Apparently there have not been the number, nor severity of cases that have usually been seen. I look forward to seeing what my days here will bring.

Pointe Noire, Congo aboard the Africa Mercy

The adventure begins.....

I feel unprepared as I sit in the waiting area at Toronto Pearson Airport preparing to reach Congo tomorrow at 6:30pm via Frankfurt. And yet I am bringing with some medication that may dramatically change the way we manage many of our patients; a new technology that could make a real difference in transfusion management; and a well written textbook in electronic format that can be used to help local health care workers in Congo. This visit I may be able to leave the surgical program a little bit better after I return home, two short weeks from now.

I have a unique opportunity this time. Two of my colleagues from Saskatoon will follow me to serve with Mercy Ships while the ship remains in Pointe Noire. Perhaps I can offer some insights and suggestions to make their time more effective.

Lots of flying before I reach the ship. Hope to get some sleep.