Probably you've guessed already that my dear wasn't caught up in any fight or accident, it just happens that he has a very popular blood type. Back home my "A negative" blood was always needed and I turned up regularly at the local blood bank. Here in Africa almost nobody needs my type, unlike Darren's "B Positive".
On Tuesday he was working as usual till 5 pm. I got dinner for us and was waiting for him in the dining room. he showed up around 5.20pm. He was about to pick up his fork when his pager went off. He excused himself and disappeared to fix a dead computer in the hospital. The next time I saw him was at 8.25pm (by then I almost finished the Hunger Games book I was reading). He took his shoes off and sat down when... yes, his other pager went off :(((
This time it was the lab, calling him because a patient who was operated on that day lost so much blood during the operation that she needed some immediately. So, dear husband put his shoes back and went down to the lab technician. I went for "moral support" and also to take some pictures. :)
Claudia was waiting for him and after she gave him a bottle of juice to drink we were heading to the ward. Another 20 minutes later Darren got up and we walked back to our cabin...
Just another normal day on the Africa Mercy, where the blessings never stop, miracles do happen on a daily basis and where we not only don't get paid, but we pay to work here - sometimes even that is not enough and we pay with our own blood! :)
Enjoy the Comic Book! :)
Showing posts with label hero. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hero. Show all posts
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The most precious letter I have ever received
This is a letter from Sia's uncle. Unfortunately I couldn't meet him, I wasn't on board when he came to visit Sia, so he asked the nurses to give me this.
So.... apparently I am "too Godly" :) I suppose I should say Thank you to that, right?
Last night I went to say goodbye to Sia and her mum. She got dischared today at 5 am so they can catch a ride home to the provinces.
I cried a little and took some more pictures of her. This is how I will remember her.
Wow, life is so very good right now! Praise God!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Saving a life... with a camera
I love going off the ship and taking photos of people, culture, landscapes, funny things...
It happened 2 weeks ago that I was walking on the streets with my big fancy Nikon SLR when a lady touched my hand. Due to my white skin it happens a lot so first I ignored it. But then a man said "Miss, excuse me". I stopped walking and turned around. A man with broken English tried to ask if I was working with Mercy Ships. I was - and I embraced myself for the next question. "Can you help her?"
No, I cannot. I am not a doctor to begin with, the surgery schedule is full, we are departing soon so there is not enough time to heal and what is the problem anyway?
The man turned to the lady and spoke in a dialect I never heard here before. The lady nodded and brought before me a young girl who hid her face with a huge scarf. She instructed her to uncover her face and suddenly I was starring at a nasty tumor that was growing out of her left eye. Good grief, this thing stinks so badly! I jerked back quickly and looked at the man for answers. It turns out they came from the far away province in hope of some relief and hope. The little girl was in so much pain but she couldn't even share tears any more. She's already forgotten how to walk with her head high up. In only 2 short months she was forced to endure excruciating pain, humiliation and to face death.
To my "trained eyes" it looked like Burkitt's Lymphoma (a very aggressive type of cancer that attacks young children and without treatment it's always fatal), but what do I know, really. Through the translator I told her that the most I can do to her is take a snap and if I get the chance, show it to the screening coordinator. The mum was very grateful, she even smiled at me and my heart broke. I knew we cannot help her...
You think it gets easier over time, but it never does. Saying NO is the most difficult thing you do at Mercy Ships. I have seen a LOT of nasty things and yet, it hits me just as hard each time I see it. How can this happen? What's the logic behind it? Why does this happen to a sweet, innocent child?
I took a picture of her and tried to emphasize the fact that there is no promise. I am pretty sure that's not what she wanted to hear, yet in that situation she was holding on to that 0.1% chance that I gave her.
I walked back to the ship and went to find the screening coordinator. She wasn't on board. Her assistant wasn't at her desk either. Normally I would have given up at this point, but somehow I felt I need to go the extra mile. I went to the hospital corridor, where we are not allowed to enter usuallly. To my delight I found the assistant coordinator there. She was running late for a meeting, but I grabbed her hand. "Just a second, I have a picture for you to look at".
It only took her a second to confirm my fear. Most likely it's too late... Our schedules are full... Sorry, we cannot help...
And in that very moment Dr Gary walked by! He managed to get a glimpse of the image on my camera and I think his professional curiosity kicked in. :) He asked who she was. I gave him the reader's digest version. Maybe???? Surprisingly he suggested that they bring her in for a biopsy so at least they would know what's that. But again, no promises!
So I left. I have to admit I kind of forgot about her, believing that whatever they found was bad enough and regretfully we cannot help... And days went by. I was busy with my job and her sad story was quickly replaced by many other sad stories we see and hear here every day.
Then suddenly 2 days ago on Monday I was walking in the hospital corridors again and overheard 2 nurses talking about a little girl with an eye problem. I went back and asked for some details. You can imagine my excitement when they confirmed that she was indeed "my" little girl. I begged for permission to go into the ward and see it for myself.
She was playing with some dolls when I entered the room. Her mum recognized me and smiled at me. Then Sia turned around and saw me...
Yes, I had tears in my eyes. Tears of joy. She is alive!!! Not only that, but she was smiling and having a great time. She gave me an awkward hug, probably not understanding why I was crying. :)
I checked with the nurses who told me she was admitted a week ago. Apparently I was correct, it was indeed Burkitt's - the ONLY type of cancer that we can and DO treat. She already received a dose of chemo and she was recovering from that wonderfully. In addition to that she received a surgery as well to remove every trace of the cancer. Unfortunately they couldn't save her eye, but at least they saved her life! According to the doctors the tumor was growing so fast that most likely within 2 weeks she would have died. You get it? 2 weeks have passed by since I took that picture...
She is alive and well and will have a better future!
And it started with me taking that 1 picture...
Oh, how much I love God for allowing me to play a small, yet important part in saving Sia's life!!!!!
It happened 2 weeks ago that I was walking on the streets with my big fancy Nikon SLR when a lady touched my hand. Due to my white skin it happens a lot so first I ignored it. But then a man said "Miss, excuse me". I stopped walking and turned around. A man with broken English tried to ask if I was working with Mercy Ships. I was - and I embraced myself for the next question. "Can you help her?"
No, I cannot. I am not a doctor to begin with, the surgery schedule is full, we are departing soon so there is not enough time to heal and what is the problem anyway?
The man turned to the lady and spoke in a dialect I never heard here before. The lady nodded and brought before me a young girl who hid her face with a huge scarf. She instructed her to uncover her face and suddenly I was starring at a nasty tumor that was growing out of her left eye. Good grief, this thing stinks so badly! I jerked back quickly and looked at the man for answers. It turns out they came from the far away province in hope of some relief and hope. The little girl was in so much pain but she couldn't even share tears any more. She's already forgotten how to walk with her head high up. In only 2 short months she was forced to endure excruciating pain, humiliation and to face death.
To my "trained eyes" it looked like Burkitt's Lymphoma (a very aggressive type of cancer that attacks young children and without treatment it's always fatal), but what do I know, really. Through the translator I told her that the most I can do to her is take a snap and if I get the chance, show it to the screening coordinator. The mum was very grateful, she even smiled at me and my heart broke. I knew we cannot help her...
You think it gets easier over time, but it never does. Saying NO is the most difficult thing you do at Mercy Ships. I have seen a LOT of nasty things and yet, it hits me just as hard each time I see it. How can this happen? What's the logic behind it? Why does this happen to a sweet, innocent child?
I took a picture of her and tried to emphasize the fact that there is no promise. I am pretty sure that's not what she wanted to hear, yet in that situation she was holding on to that 0.1% chance that I gave her.
I walked back to the ship and went to find the screening coordinator. She wasn't on board. Her assistant wasn't at her desk either. Normally I would have given up at this point, but somehow I felt I need to go the extra mile. I went to the hospital corridor, where we are not allowed to enter usuallly. To my delight I found the assistant coordinator there. She was running late for a meeting, but I grabbed her hand. "Just a second, I have a picture for you to look at".
It only took her a second to confirm my fear. Most likely it's too late... Our schedules are full... Sorry, we cannot help...
And in that very moment Dr Gary walked by! He managed to get a glimpse of the image on my camera and I think his professional curiosity kicked in. :) He asked who she was. I gave him the reader's digest version. Maybe???? Surprisingly he suggested that they bring her in for a biopsy so at least they would know what's that. But again, no promises!
So I left. I have to admit I kind of forgot about her, believing that whatever they found was bad enough and regretfully we cannot help... And days went by. I was busy with my job and her sad story was quickly replaced by many other sad stories we see and hear here every day.
Then suddenly 2 days ago on Monday I was walking in the hospital corridors again and overheard 2 nurses talking about a little girl with an eye problem. I went back and asked for some details. You can imagine my excitement when they confirmed that she was indeed "my" little girl. I begged for permission to go into the ward and see it for myself.
She was playing with some dolls when I entered the room. Her mum recognized me and smiled at me. Then Sia turned around and saw me...
Yes, I had tears in my eyes. Tears of joy. She is alive!!! Not only that, but she was smiling and having a great time. She gave me an awkward hug, probably not understanding why I was crying. :)
I checked with the nurses who told me she was admitted a week ago. Apparently I was correct, it was indeed Burkitt's - the ONLY type of cancer that we can and DO treat. She already received a dose of chemo and she was recovering from that wonderfully. In addition to that she received a surgery as well to remove every trace of the cancer. Unfortunately they couldn't save her eye, but at least they saved her life! According to the doctors the tumor was growing so fast that most likely within 2 weeks she would have died. You get it? 2 weeks have passed by since I took that picture...
She is alive and well and will have a better future!
And it started with me taking that 1 picture...
Oh, how much I love God for allowing me to play a small, yet important part in saving Sia's life!!!!!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Divers and Forklifts and Trainings and Accidents

"As most of you know I am one of the lucky people that get to dive underneath the ship and help to clean out and maintain the intake vents for the ships salt water cooling system that keep the generators and air conditioning running. A few weeks ago we had a drill to practice what would happen in case of an emergency with a diver been injured under the ship and how we could get them out of the water and treated best. The drill went really well and it was a good learning experience for everyone involved as it was something new to almost all of us. Here are some pictures that show the events of the drill.
Getting ready for the drill
Jumping in
Waiting for the drill to start
Captain briefing everyone on what is going to happen
Brave volunteers jumping in to help out
Me pretending to be unconscious
Getting positioned in the rescue basket
Taking off my dive gear, ready to pull me out
Getting lifted up by the fork lift
Almost out
And safely on land (with Dan Bergman, ICU nurse)
Unfortunately not too much more than a week after we had this drill I found myself diving to save the piece of equipment that had saved me during the drill. There was a bit of an accident and our forklift ended up going for a swim. (No Persons or animals where hurt in this forklift accident) I got to be apart of the rescue effort as 2 of us dove in the murky water to find it on the ocean floor and attached a crane to it so that it could be pulled out. Needless to say its back to the drawing board on what we will do in case of needing to pull a diver out of the water... :)"
Some people have windows in their offices and could catch the perfect moment before the forklift went under... I think it got confused and thought it was a submarine... Oh well, never a dull moment on the Africa Mercy! :)
Thursday, June 9, 2011
A Miracle. Truly a miracle
This story is just soooo amazing! I was there when it happened, but Elaine Winn, the writer who works in my team did a much better job at gathering all info and putting it all on paper so I let her tell you this story...
Dr. Gary examined Josephine, took x-rays and discovered a small stone lodged in the little girl’s bronchus. A virtual think tank was begun to find a way to remove the stone from her tiny body. Dr.Gary approached engineering to see if a medical device could be fashioned that would be the right shape to fit into the bronchoscope and retrieve the stone. Every plausible idea was examined and eventually rejected.
Josephine’s condition was rapidly deteriorating. Analysis was made of the hospitals nearby. Ghana had the required surgeon, but he was absent at that time, and the travel expense to South Africa was prohibitive.
Two-year-old Josephine inhaled something that affected her breathing. Her parents, David and Judith, could hear the rattle with every struggling breath. They took her to a local clinic which sent them to an emergency hospital . . . which sent them to a government hospital . . . which sent them to a satellite clinic . . . which sent them back to the government hospital. After five days in the government hospital, specialist Dr. Karim Kabineh told them that Josephine was so tiny that she would die if he performed the necessary operation. He needed a pediatric anesthetist, anesthesia equipment, and a critical care unit with 24-hour nursing care – all unavailable at that hospital.
After eight days of hopeless searching for help, the desperate parents took Josephine to the office of the Minister of Health, where David hoped to plead his case and find someone who could help. At that moment – in the miracle of God’s timing – Ann Gloag, a member of the Mercy Ships International Board who is well-known for her charity work in Africa, was meeting with the Minister.
As this compassionate woman walked by the family sitting in the reception area, she heard the labored breathing of little Josephine. She put in a call to Dr. Gary Parker, Chief Medical Officer onboard the Africa Mercy, the hospital ship docked a short distance away in Freetown Harbor. After explaining to him what appeared to be the problem, arrangements were made to use an ambulance to transport Josephine, her parents and Dr. Kabineh to the ship.
Dr. Gary and Dr. Kabineh worked for five hours trying to remove the stone without success. Dr. Gary called Ann back to explain that what Josephine needed was a cardiac thoracic surgeon, and there wasn’t one on the ship. David was devastated. Mercy Ships was his last hope. But crew member Clementine Tengue encouraged him, saying, “God will find a way.”
Josephine was admitted to the intensive care unit with 24-hour care. About 3:00 am, ICU Nurse Melissa Warner was working the night shift when Josephine lost her breathing tube. Her vital signs were crashing. Dr. Michelle White, the pediatric *anesthetist/ anesthesiologist, was paged, but it would take her several minutes to respond. “In my mind, I said ‘I need help!’” Melissa said. “And when I looked up, there was Corina Buth standing in the doorway in her pajamas!” Corina, a pediatric ICU nurse from the Netherlands, had been restless and couldn’t sleep. Corina did CPR, and Josephine’s vital signs returned to normal. Then Dr. Michelle arrived and replaced the breathing tube.
Meanwhile, Ann had phoned a professor friend of hers in Nairobi and explained that she needed a pediatric cardiac thoracic surgeon who could fly to Sierra Leone right away. The professor knew just the right man – Dr. James Munene, head of cardiac surgery at Nairobi’s Kenyatta National Hospital. Although it was quite late, he phoned Dr. James, explained the problem and asked him to go to Sierra Leone to operate on Josephine.
“Wait!” Dr. James said, rather forcefully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Just talk to this lady,” the professor responded.
Ann called a few minutes later and told the doctor he needed to fly immediately to Freetown where his skills were urgently needed.
“I was a bit reluctant,” said Dr. Munene. “I had never heard of Mercy Ships. I had no information on this case, and it was the middle of the night!”
“It was a little difficult to say no to the lady. I told my wife, ‘I guess I’m going to Sierra Leone in the morning,’” Dr. Munene said.
Then Dr. Gary called to say he was emailing information and x-rays of Josephine.
“I was thinking, ‘It’s not happening! It didn’t sound real!’ But by 1:00 a.m., I had the ticket and all the necessary papers ... and there I was at the airport at 6:00 a.m..,” explained Dr. James.
This confident specialist with the gentle demeanor landed at Lungi Airport, not yet totally comprehending the situation. And he still had to endure the bumpy boat ride across the bay to Freetown. “It was surreal!” he admitted.
Dr. James was overwhelmed by the Africa Mercy, the more than 400 crew members volunteering from 35 different countries, and the concept of bringing hope and healing to the forgotten poor. He couldn’t believe such a mission could have been in operation for so many years, and he didn’t know anything about it.
Teaming with Dr. Gary, Dr. James operated on Josephine, fishing the stone out of her bronchus with ease. Because Josephine was so tiny, it was a vital requirement to have a pediatric anesthetist as part of the team. Dr. Michelle White was serving in this capacity at the time and was a vital part of the team. “Working with such a tiny body, I wouldn’t have proceeded without her,” said Dr. James.
Josephine awoke shortly after the surgery and sat up on the gurney all the way to the Intensive Care Unit, looking around and asking for a glass of water. To everyone’s surprise, she was anxious to eat right away. After a few days of recuperating in the ICU – and enjoying the attention of the nurses and other crew members – the little girl and her grateful parents left the ship
In reviewing this story, it is amazing to see the many things that had to happen for this tiny girl to survive. Her parents had to keep her alive for eight days after she inhaled the stone. Ann Gloag had to be visiting the office of the Minister of Health at the same time that David, Judith, and Josephine were there. Dr. James Munene had to agree to perform a surgery for an organization of which he had never heard; and Nurse Corina had to be drawn to the ICU because she couldn’t sleep. This incredible timing and all of these wonderful people were part of the miracle that allowed Josephine to grin happily as she left the Africa Mercy as a healthy little girl.
Dr. James was captivated by the mission and hopes to return to volunteer his services. “Really, it’s a privilege to come and see what people are doing while others are sleeping and doing nothing,” he said.
And God never sleeps – miracles still happen every day. Sometimes we are blessed to be a part of them.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
My new Heroes
The name of the game: SPOT THE DIVER
There is sooooo much trash floating down the river each day that sometimes you don't even see the water. The problem (besides the obvious) with this is that it blocks our pipes under water and it makes our engine cooling impossible. The first thing that goes is always the A/C. We are having issues with it every day. Now, A/C is a wonderful thing, but let's be honest, we can survive without it. Power, on the other hand is a much more serious issue. We already faced several sudden black outs throughout the entire ship.
The solution is "simple". We have people on board with PADI license. And the most amazing thing is that they are soooo willing to go down each day to clean the pipes. Last week one of the volunteer divers said that the visibility is practically ZERO down there...
3 of my friends volunteer to submerge into that yuck each day. 1 is an ICU nurse, the other is a ward nurse, the third one works at Reception. These guys are girls signed up to work with patients. When their shift is over, they change the scrubs to wet suit and jump into the water to keep us in business.
As I said... THEY ARE MY NEW HEROES!
There is sooooo much trash floating down the river each day that sometimes you don't even see the water. The problem (besides the obvious) with this is that it blocks our pipes under water and it makes our engine cooling impossible. The first thing that goes is always the A/C. We are having issues with it every day. Now, A/C is a wonderful thing, but let's be honest, we can survive without it. Power, on the other hand is a much more serious issue. We already faced several sudden black outs throughout the entire ship.
The solution is "simple". We have people on board with PADI license. And the most amazing thing is that they are soooo willing to go down each day to clean the pipes. Last week one of the volunteer divers said that the visibility is practically ZERO down there...
3 of my friends volunteer to submerge into that yuck each day. 1 is an ICU nurse, the other is a ward nurse, the third one works at Reception. These guys are girls signed up to work with patients. When their shift is over, they change the scrubs to wet suit and jump into the water to keep us in business.
As I said... THEY ARE MY NEW HEROES!
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