Conflicted

How is it possible to be so happy to be going home that you get an excited little bubble inside when you think about it and ,often the same time, so sad at leaving that you feel as if you where going to burst into tears? That has been my last few days starting with Friday when I got my disembarkation paperwork on my door. Such a roller coaster!

Thought you might like to read a little more of the story of the first 2 VVF ladies that left the ship. This was made available on the "Navigator" page which is the ships crew member web site.

“Those who saw us laughed at us,” Justine said. “We were suffering.”

Justine and Parra were the first women healed from VVF during the 2009 Field Service. They were also the first to participate in a dress ceremony – a ritual in which they get a new dress, tell their stories, and sing songs celebrating their new lives.

Parra’s journey to the Africa Mercy from a far northern region in Benin demonstrated both desperate need and immense trust. A mother of three, Parra sustained the fistula during the birth of her third child, who survived the delivery and is now almost a year old. Parra speaks a tribal language unknown to any of the local volunteers that Mercy Ships employs as translators.

Despite difficulties communicating, she trusted that God would watch over her. Her faith was rewarded when she received her free corrective surgery and was able to sing a song of thanksgiving to the doctors and nurses.

Justine delivered four healthy children, but her fifth child died during a long, complicated delivery, causing a fistula to develop. Justine had been closeted inside her home for the entire nine years afterwards.

“Every day, I was very tired, ashamed, and people laughed at me,” Justine said.

Justine’s husband tried to find a solution. He went to different hospitals in the nearest city of Porto-Novo. One—ironically called the Good Samaritan—wanted almost $200 US to perform the repair, an impossible sum in a place where the average income is only $50 a month.

She heard about Mercy Ships because her sister had surgery with Mercy Ships a few years ago. She came onboard the Africa Mercy, and only a week later, she was healed and ready to go home. “I have so much to thank God for, that God has delivered me and that the doctors have worked very well,” Justine said.

“I feel no pain in my body, and I feel happy in my heart.”

See you soon, looking forward to cooler temps......missing already the African days....

Tales of VVF land and TIA

I'll start with ward news and then go on to my recent weekend trip to Abomey and meeting the king.

I have been in VVF land since my second week here. At first, I was a little disappointed at not being in the Maxfax ward with all of the dramatic changes that you see after surgery, however, as time went on, I began to realize how very rewarding it was to get to know the lovely VVF ladies. They are survivors, comedians, mothers, friends, and members of a small club.....the club of VVF. They are a support group for each other and will chatter away (at least when they know each other's language). They take care of each other's children, tell each other what to expect, and chide each other if they think the other person is not being polite. So you get to know the ladies, and the ones that you get to know the best are the ones who have had complications, and oh how it hurts when things don't go as hoped. We pray but God in His wisdom does not always give us the outcome we think is best. One of my favorite ladies went home on Wed. still wet. She had come in for a VVF and a RVF (rectal vaginal fistula) repair and for a while, we thought it had been successful. Unfortunately that was not the case. She has another fistula somewhere that was not found in the original surgery. I had not realized, but it can take several surgeries to repair the damage done. Dr Steve told a story of the man who pioneered the fistula repair surgery. He is now somewhat reviled as he developed the technique on his slaves, one of which he operated on 31 times....without anesthesia. However, in a note as to how much these ladies desire to be continent, it was found that he had obtained informed consent from her for each of the 31 times.....she was a survivor. One of the things I love most about Zenebon is her sense of humor. I have to tell you, I had no clue as to what words where coming out of her mouth, but I could always tell when she was finding us amusing. Not to get too scatological, but we are very concerned about our ladies' BMs. Before you think us too weird, remember that we are nurses, and , in addition, constipation can ruin the repair....so very important to go frequently and have soft stools and we give them several meds to hasten the process. Well one of the ladies (Wessigui) had not been in several days and we where concerned that she might have a small bowel obstruction...so quite important for us to visualize the "movement". We made her dually aware of this fact and on the momentous day that she actually produced said BM, she flagged down the closest nurse(Jilly) to show off the byproduct. I was Wessegui's nurse that day, so Jilly called me over so that I could (with pride and exaltation) also share in this wondrous occasion. Well I thought that Zenebon was going to fall off her bed, she laughed and laughed and laughed, so, we laughed with her. Please pray for Zenebon, she is some kind of lady.

Last weekend we went to Abomey which was the capital of the kingdom of D'ahomey of which Benin used to be part. We had our trip put together by a "tour operator" so (although we felt we where paying a premium price) we where happy. We where supposed to leave at 8:30 on Saturday, have several stops throughout the day, reach our motel in time to see the Fruit bats in the courtyard before they took off for the night have a walkabout and then a leisurely supper. Well all I can say is TIA. Ah, what does that mean you ask? This is Africa, TIA, a phrase oft repeated by us Westerners. It was to be uttered with varying degrees of frustration all day Saturday. Our guide showed up with both her small children, TIA, the car was 2 and 1/2 hours late, TIA, the van was not the new air conditioned one that we had been promised, TIA, being caught in traffic for at least an hour because the van was late, TIA, observing meat being sold in a village where we had stopped so the driver could put "minutes" on his phone and realizing that some of the pieces had paws and other pieces had tails and that it was indeed rat, TIA. Going to meet the first king and having one of our group proposed to by the elder, TIA (we think he was kidding), being allowed to see where said elder's father was buried literally in his back courtyard, TIA. He actually had a great sense of humor. He called Miriam over so that she could see her Father-in-law's grave. Never seeing the King as we where several hours late due to car being late, etc, etc, TIA. Having one of the places on our itinerary stay open late and give us a tour any way, TIA. Loosing our hotel reservations (with the fruit bats) because we where so late, TIA. Having 3 of our group having to sleep in one bed (it was a large bed) TIA. Having the kitchen open back up at 9:00 at night so that we could have supper, TIA. Not an auspicious first day and by the end of it, we where saying TIA with gritted teeth, telling ourselves that this was and adventure.

Sunday was a new day and turned out to be much better. After having to wait 30 minutes for the "King's palace" ( a UNESCO world heritage muse am) to open up, we had an enjoyable time. We then grabbed bread and cheese for lunch after which we went to meet another King. We where ushered into his presence with all due pomp and circumstance. Not one, but two courtyards before hand, we had to take our shoes and hats off. He was sitting on his throne with his robe thrown across his lap and some sort of sceptre hanging from his shoulder and we shuffled in bowed, and found ourselves a seat on the floor. As he turned his attention to speaking to us....his cell phone rang...TIA. Anyway, he was an interesting and educated fellow and was very versed in American history and in Obama.

I'm getting ready to go to a dress ceremony so need to run..besides, I'm sure I've bored you enough by now. Take care....I look forward to seeing everyone is just a few more days.

Translation Trials or E18

As I researched Benin, one of the things that I most wondered about was the language that was spoken. According to everything I had read, most of the population speak either French of Fon......I'm here to tell you that most of my patients speak neither. According to the translators, there are 62 different languages spoken in a country the size of Pennsylvania. Last night there were 14 ladies on the ward. They spoke French, Fon, Lopa, Pilla, Fulani, Foun, Kabye, Wama, Bariba, Lamba, and Titamari....14 ladies, 11 languages. Most of our translators speak English, French and Fon. Very rarely do they speak a northern language. We have gotten very creative miming "I'm going to give you a suppository now". I'll let you picture how it's done. "You need to take a sitz bath" and "have you had a BM? are also amusing and cross cultural. When I need to convey more complex instructions such as pelvic floor exercises, and pain scale, it really needs to be verbal. So picture this scenario..... a crowded ward, a curtain (hung with magnetic hooks so it can be moved) drawn around the bed, the patient laying in bed with myself, the translator, another patient and yet another patient.....that's right 4 of us gathered around this poor woman's bed. So I say "we need to teach her how to do exercises that will help her to be able to hold her pee after the surgery". The translator repeats (I hope) what I have said to patient #1 who repeats it (I hope) to patient #2 who repeats it to the awaiting recipient of my nursing knowledge (I hope). Now I feel fairly comfortable with the process except for when: 1. the translator gives me a blank stare, 2. I say one sentence and they talk for 10 minutes, 3. I talk for 10 minutes and they say one sentence. All of these happened during the course of the conversation...I mean instruction. Anyway, I eventually felt that I had conveyed as much information as the format was going to allow, I shued everyone away and indicated to the patient that I would like for her to demonstrate the exercise to me.....I then discovered that it can be very difficult to ascertain as to whether pelvic floor exercises are being done properly and then 2 hours later she mimed to me "can I go to the bathroom now?"

One of the things that we learned in Perspectives was how much more effective sharing the gospel was when it was done within the same culture. They had ratings from E0 to E4 whereby in E0 the Evangelist and the recipient where the same culture, E2 slightly different cultures, etc. I think that having to talk through 3 people has to be at least an E18...don't you? But sometimes God doesn't read the books. A few Saturdays ago, myself and another nurse where working together on the ward, our work was completed, I'd already amused the ladies by teaching a few of the translators the electric slide, but we where running out of things to do. Well, then my partner did the most amazing thing. Somehow we had the right mix of people and she was able to just start talking with them about Christ. She told them of his love for them and about how He knows all of the hairs on their heads and He knows how long they have been wet and of their grief at being wet, and then she told them how to receive Jesus into their heart. They told her that they had heard of this Jesus but didn't know what to do about it until she told them.....it was just the most incredible thing, watching God use this willing nurse to spread His wonderful gospel....E18 indeed!!






The lady in the middle was kicked out of her husband's house after she became incontinent. The man holding her baby is her brother. He brought her down from up north and stayed while she had her operation and recovered.

Some of the faces of the north. The tattoos and scars indicate what tribe they come from. It is my understanding the the government is outlawing this practice as it can be used as a way of "profiling", almost a caste system.

It's late and I need to go to bed....hope all is well on that side of the pond.