Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Alba's Tears
This is a story written by Megan, who works in the Communications department here. Alba was on the ward about two months ago. I remember seeing her before her surgery with her rag over her mouth (to cover her tumor - not only the sight but also the smell) and she was so shy! The story is a good representation of what so many of our patients experience. Their lives are radically changed for the better after a successful operation. This story was nicely done so I thought it would be a good one to share...
Ankosua was outside carefully mixing herbs and water to create a concoction prescribed by a traditional doctor in her village. It was mid-afternoon, and her daughter, eight-year-old Alba, was sitting alone in their home. “She should be at school right now,” she thought. Struggling to hold back tears, she poured boiling water over the crushed herbs and sieved the mixture into a cup.
Two years earlier, an outgoing and vivacious Alba was attending school with her friends. Now, she spent her days hiding in a dark room, too insecure to look people in the eyes.
When the drink had cooled, Ankosua walked inside the home and handed Alba the cup. Taking the cup, Alba tilted her head back, creating a small gap between her cheek and the large tumor that filled her mouth. Slowly, she poured the liquid into the small gap and swallowed in intervals. While she watched her daughter struggle, Ankosua thought back to the day she first spotted the small bulge on Alba’s gum line. Never could she have imagined the fear and discouragement it would cause her heart.
After Alba had drunk the entire cup, she began crying. Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into the tear-stained eyes of her daughter. Slowly, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest. As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong.
But Ankosua was depressed. Alba had performed this routine hundreds of times, but the tumor hadn’t gone away. In fact, it was growing. At times, it felt like it was shooting out of her mouth, causing her great pain. Ankosua realized the traditional herbs were not working. There were no other options. All she could do was keep trying and pray the herbs would begin to work.
***********
“When the tumor first appeared, my husband and I took Alba to the hospital, but we didn’t have money to pay for it, so they wouldn’t treat her. We had to use traditional medicine,” said Ankosua. Alba was taken out of school so her mother could give her the traditional medicine daily.
When asked how the community treated Alba, Ankosua stared at the floor and remained silent. After a 10-second pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and she painfully replied, “Some people received Alba with good hands. They prayed for her and encouraged me. But others shunned her. They said, ‘Go away, we don’t want to see you.’”
Whenever it was time to eat or drink, Alba hid herself from other people. If she went out in public, she kept the tumor covered with a rag. It served as a disguise and caught the foul-smelling and constant drainage.
After two years of watching her daughter struggle, a woman in her village told Ankosua of a hospital in Benin that was performing free surgery. Finally – a glimmer of hope! They scrounged to get enough money for transportation and traveled to the hospital, which was hours away.
However, Ankosua’s new-found hope quickly morphed into deep disappointment. “We were there for two days, and nobody attended to us. I asked a woman who worked there why we weren’t being helped. She said, ‘They don’t do surgery for free, you have to deposit money.’ I trembled when she told me that. I had come with nothing,” said Ankosua sadly.
After Ankosua explained that she had no money for treatment, the woman told her about Mercy Ships. “This woman had heard Mercy Ships was in town, helping people and healing people for free. She gave me directions to the Africa Mercy, and I immediately went,” Ankosua added.
****
Still attached to noisy monitors and IV fluids, Alba had been dozing in and out of sleep since returning to the Africa Mercy ward. Finally, a few hours after surgery, she opened her eyes and sat up. Seeing she was awake, Becca, her nurse, came to Alba’s bedside and handed her a small mirror.
Alba looked down, paused in a state of bewilderment, and began touching the empty space on her mouth. The tumor was gone. After 20 seconds of staring, a single tear rolled down her cheek. With great determination, she tried not to cry. But another and then another tear soon followed. Finally, she gave up trying to hold them back and cried freely. Alba’s tears were earned through years of heartache and rejection. They were mature and raw – heavy tears for an eight-year-old to cry.
Ankosua stood next to her bed the entire time, carefully observing her daughter. When Alba began crying, she turned away. Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into her tear-stained eyes. After two hopeless years of discouragement and depression, healing had finally come. The mixture of joy and pain in that moment expressed itself in tears.
When Alba regained her composure, Ankosua returned to the bedside. Carefully, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest. As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong. But her heart was too overwhelmed with joy. Tears of relief and joy flooded her eyes as well. They sat and cried together, each tear serving as a testimony to the transforming power of God’s mercy.
Ankosua was outside carefully mixing herbs and water to create a concoction prescribed by a traditional doctor in her village. It was mid-afternoon, and her daughter, eight-year-old Alba, was sitting alone in their home. “She should be at school right now,” she thought. Struggling to hold back tears, she poured boiling water over the crushed herbs and sieved the mixture into a cup.
Two years earlier, an outgoing and vivacious Alba was attending school with her friends. Now, she spent her days hiding in a dark room, too insecure to look people in the eyes.
After Alba had drunk the entire cup, she began crying. Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into the tear-stained eyes of her daughter. Slowly, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest. As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong. ***********
“When the tumor first appeared, my husband and I took Alba to the hospital, but we didn’t have money to pay for it, so they wouldn’t treat her. We had to use traditional medicine,” said Ankosua. Alba was taken out of school so her mother could give her the traditional medicine daily.
When asked how the community treated Alba, Ankosua stared at the floor and remained silent. After a 10-second pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and she painfully replied, “Some people received Alba with good hands. They prayed for her and encouraged me. But others shunned her. They said, ‘Go away, we don’t want to see you.’”
Whenever it was time to eat or drink, Alba hid herself from other people. If she went out in public, she kept the tumor covered with a rag. It served as a disguise and caught the foul-smelling and constant drainage.
After two years of watching her daughter struggle, a woman in her village told Ankosua of a hospital in Benin that was performing free surgery. Finally – a glimmer of hope! They scrounged to get enough money for transportation and traveled to the hospital, which was hours away.
However, Ankosua’s new-found hope quickly morphed into deep disappointment. “We were there for two days, and nobody attended to us. I asked a woman who worked there why we weren’t being helped. She said, ‘They don’t do surgery for free, you have to deposit money.’ I trembled when she told me that. I had come with nothing,” said Ankosua sadly.
After Ankosua explained that she had no money for treatment, the woman told her about Mercy Ships. “This woman had heard Mercy Ships was in town, helping people and healing people for free. She gave me directions to the Africa Mercy, and I immediately went,” Ankosua added.
****
Still attached to noisy monitors and IV fluids, Alba had been dozing in and out of sleep since returning to the Africa Mercy ward. Finally, a few hours after surgery, she opened her eyes and sat up. Seeing she was awake, Becca, her nurse, came to Alba’s bedside and handed her a small mirror.
Alba looked down, paused in a state of bewilderment, and began touching the empty space on her mouth. The tumor was gone. After 20 seconds of staring, a single tear rolled down her cheek. With great determination, she tried not to cry. But another and then another tear soon followed. Finally, she gave up trying to hold them back and cried freely. Alba’s tears were earned through years of heartache and rejection. They were mature and raw – heavy tears for an eight-year-old to cry. Ankosua stood next to her bed the entire time, carefully observing her daughter. When Alba began crying, she turned away. Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into her tear-stained eyes. After two hopeless years of discouragement and depression, healing had finally come. The mixture of joy and pain in that moment expressed itself in tears.
When Alba regained her composure, Ankosua returned to the bedside. Carefully, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest. As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong. But her heart was too overwhelmed with joy. Tears of relief and joy flooded her eyes as well. They sat and cried together, each tear serving as a testimony to the transforming power of God’s mercy.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Some thoughts on African Efficiency
According to dictionary.com: efficient (i-fish-uh nt), an adjective, means performing or functioning in the best possible manner with the least waste of time and effort; having and using requisite knowledge, skill, and industry; competent; capable.
When I think of the African way of living these ideas aren’t the first to come to mind. However, there are some things that I just love about Africans and their efficiency…
Africans know how to pack stuff in. Driving hazard perhaps?
Lets hope there are no sharp turns!
Need a place to sleep? No worries – you’ve got the hammock under the truck
Banana Anyone?
They women carry babies on their backs everywhere - even while bowling
Construction efforts involve local branches – how resourceful!
Or doing hair
But my all time favorite event in regard to African efficiency occurred just this week
My friend Scott, whom I know from Phoenix, was working here as an anesthesiologist. We went out to dinner and had the most inedible chicken I’d ever attempted to consume - skinny chicken as they call it here. The waitress came over, took one look at our plates (which were as far as you could get from the clean plate club) and asked if we were done. We replied “yep, we are full” (translation: we couldn’t even cut the chicken let alone ingest it!) She then proceeded to compile our leftovers including our chicken bones, meat, mushy fries, and ketchup, putting half in a to-go box and the other half on one of our plates. Here’s where the African efficiency comes in….she then served the compiled leftover dish to the table next to us, and gave our mushy, half-consumed fries to some guy walking down the street. Only in Africa! =)
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