party time!

a note from the orphanage director...

"the grand father is already organising a party for their return because he is so happy. When François was born he was considered as a wizard by the whole village, he said." now he is whole and can go home!

a brightly wrapped package with a bow on top...or why i'm here.

I met Francois and his mama Pierrette on the dock of Togo the day we arrived in port…well, really I met him via email on the Monday before we arrived in Togo. I received an email that had been a series of emails about a little boy named Francois who had a cleft lip and palate and wasn’t doing well. Could I possibly see him as soon as we arrived? Of course! While everyone else was busy watching us come into port, I was busy unpacking boxes in the wards trying to find everything I might need…baby scale, infant formula, rice cereal, medicine cups, sterile water bottle, tape measure, stethoscope (haven’t used that in about 3 months, now, where did I put it?!?!), etc. I was ready to meet Francois. He and his mama and grandma arrived on the dock about 3 hours after we did with a nurse from a Benin orphanage. Mama looked overwhelmed by the amount of people who wanted to cuddle her broken baby. Grandma looked on fiercely protective.
We drove over to the team house where I weighed and measured Francois and took a history on him. Most babies with clefts are “throw-away” babies here b/c they are considered to be cursed. His mama had put him in an orphanage rather than throw him away but he wasn’t “her” baby. Most babies with clefts also nurse very badly and end up quite malnourished. And Francois was quite underweight. I called him my little chicken baby—nothing but skin and bones. When I did the math to see how much he needed to eat to catch up to where he should be, my numbers were so high I thought I had done the math wrong! So, that day I began teaching and sharing the love of Christ with mama and Francois. I taught her how to make clean water and mix formula. I taught her that cleft lips/palates happen all over the world even where people don’t practice cursing to encourage her that it wasn’t her fault and her baby wasn’t cursed. I gave them formula. I cuddled with him. I prayed with them. Every three to four days I would visit the three Beninois family members staying in a house full of yovo’s. His weight loss at first was a sign to change the formula. And three days later, his weight gain was a victory—for him, for mom, for grandma, even for me. Pierrette (mama) rarely interacted but watched everything with large eyes seeing more than I will know.
Every time I saw Francois after that, he had gained weight. Victory! He began to have a little pudge to his cheeks. And sooner than I thought possible, I was able to send him to our surgeon to be screened and he was put on the surgery schedule. Because of the Togolese elections, we admitted Francois to the hospital about a week before his surgery. Everyone who came in commented on his fat cheeks. (fat is a compliment here). And mama was watching and starting to snuggle with Francois and smiling at the gestures that indicated he was fat. We told her she was not to allow him out of her sight (although the norm in the West, not so much here and we wanted her to have every opportunity to bond with her baby). The day the nurses came to weigh him and tried to walk away, she said no and chased after them. Normal mother behavior—victory!!!!
His surgery date came around quickly and I headed down to the wards to check on Pierrette. She was anxious and so we chatted about everything and nothing. I went to the Recovery Room to see if he was there yet and I heard a baby cry and my heart leapt into my throat…he’s out! I went back to get Pierrette and walk her down to see her baby now made whole. Her face when she saw him…like she just couldn’t believe it….her lips quivering and her eyes bright with unshed tears and she lifted her arms in a gesture of praise. His surgeon, Dr. Gary, was sitting on the stretcher across from her along with our charge nurse, Ali (read her stories here…addictive), both looking on with joy. And I thought, if I could package this moment, this is why I’m here. This moment.
Mama Pierrette put the bow on the package for me today. I was down in the wards with Francois tucked into my arms and talking to mom about going home soon. “Francois is too small for his palate surgery right now. We will send you home to Benin until later on. Have you thought about going home? Will you want to have Francois back at the orphanage or will you take him home with you?” And Pierrette ducked her head shyly and with a faint smile whispered, “I want to take him home.” Victory!!!!!! That is the bow on top of the package.
The pictures above are Francois at his first visit, Francois right before discharge and mama Pierrette and Francois
ps. in a little over 3 weeks, he went from 2.4 kg (5.3 lbs) to 3.8 kg (8.3 lbs) =)

call me ishmael...

i almost didn't publish this post. THEN, i managed to post it with only a title. but now, i will try to share the words of my heart.

call me ishmael...seriously, call me ishmael. the name is of Biblical origin and it means "God hears". it is the name God gives to hagar to name her son after they have been cast away. and she worships God and calls Him the "God who sees me" or "El Roi". two attributes of God in a very short passage. two names that i am clinging to right now.

this last year has been one of the roughest years of my life...being far from home and yet at home on a ship in west africa. separated from family and friends and yet surrounded by family and friends. all at the same time. and the many phone calls that would spark a fist of dread in my heart...is this the phone call about mom? the up and down roller-coaster ride of this last year as her health failed. saying goodbyes to so many people who "invaded" my life and heart. or at least "until next time". but knowing i was blessed to have so many invaders that deeply touched me. and the work that tears at my heart daily even though there is a joy as well.

so, what does that have to do with ishmael? well, in all this, though i KNOW that my Father in Heaven has not walked away or stopped listening to me, He has chosen to be silent towards me right now. and so my prayers feel like they maybe reach the ceiling (or deck-head) and He doesn't speak to me and His arms feel intangible. and so i cling to the name of God as the "God who sees" and hope that i am ishmael "God hears". i am thankful for the amazing people He puts in my life to be His ears and arms when He seems silent.

there is so much joy as well in the day-to-day (francois' story coming soon). but i wanted to share a bit of the struggle as well.

first days in togo

i'm going to work backwards from tonight to our arrival 2 weeks ago in togo.

tonight...it is the first night the wards are open in the hospital. and i am here, in the middle of the night, listening to the generator hum which is just a bit louder here than in my cabin. listening to the patients sleeping just a few feet away. talking with my fellow nurse and day volunteer who both have english as second or third languages. trying to fill the hours of a long night with very little nursing...it is good to be back. a friend asked me on tuesday if i was ready for the busy-ness that would begin today and not end for the next 6 months...he asked a bit sarcastically. i replied yes, without a doubt. although i have enjoyed the break from the work, this is what God has given me and called me to. i have missed snuggling with my little brown children and babies and having chats with moms through translators and seeing joy dawning on faces which previously bore marks of shame, distrust and fear. so, yes, i am ready!

friday night we hosted a hospital open house for the rest of the crew who work elsewhere on the ship and may not have a clue about life/work in the hospital. crew members could learn to stitch or start IV's (not on real people!) or "operate" on a stuffed monkey or play nurse for a shift and have to complete nursing duties on recalcitrant patients (played by nurses of course! nice to be on the giving end sometimes ;-)hehe). it was a fun night. jens, our carpenter, is almost ready to be a pediatric nurse as he wrestled his "patient" into submission and gave her pills and took her temperature!

thursday night we held a medical reception involving the medical community of togo from the ministry of health to local surgeons, doctors, nurses, hospital directors, and more. it was a nice evening and allowed us to start developing relationships with those who we will work with as well as leaving the work in their hands as we sail away in august.

arrival wednesday until thursday saw the nurses busy unpacking, cleaning and setting up the wards. it is a lot of work to pack up, it is just as much to unpack. and we have a handful of "old" nurses who know where things go and a lot of new nurses who are trying to figure out what we meant when we said this goes in "a" ward or take that to the pilot's entrance. what?!?!? but we had fun with the work as always when you get a bunch of nurses together. crazy hats, dance parties to liven up the work, prayer, seeing how many nurses fit in a small space. and all of it being filmed by a canadian film crew who are filming what goes on in this ship of ours for an episode of "mighty ships" on discovery channel of canada. yep, i'm gonna be famous!?!??! well, not really but i may be on tv. =)

and the day of arrival. we arrived in togo to the sight of part of our land based team coming out on the tug boat that was to assist us into our berth. and as we neared the dock which will be our home these next many months, a band was playing and people were shouting and waving. the band and group of people walked down the dock, pacing us as we moved into our berth. at our berth was another band playing traditional african music to welcome us in. the gangway was let down quickly and a welcoming ceremony was held. it was hot. but it is good to be back.

february 2010 newsletter

February 2010

Dear Family and Friends,

I hope this letter/email finds each of you well. I was appalled to realize that my last newsletter has been so long ago. I apologize that I have not been better about letting each of you know how things are going here. (an upfront disclaimer…the photos on here today are from fellow crew members—the dolphins and patient photos are from ali and the sunset on the ocean from ryan)

These last few months have been a time of goodbyes, a time of rest, a time of refreshment, a time of sorrow, a time of joy, and now, it is a time of work. The outreach to Benin finished in late November 2009 and that began my time of goodbyes. Goodbye to Benin, goodbye to the friends who left as the outreach came to a close, goodbye to patients and day volunteers who had touched my life. Although there was sadness in the goodbyes, there was also joy at so many who had touched my life over the last many months. The ship sailed in early December to Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain where we would dock for 2 months to complete maintenance and enjoy the holidays.

I was able to go home a few days after arriving to Tenerife in order to spend time with family and friends. Despite some struggles getting home due to weather, I did make it home (4 days late). I made it back to Texas just in time to say another goodbye. Goodbye to my mother who went Home to Jesus on the 26th of December. It was bittersweet—knowing she wasn’t hurting anymore, knowing she was gone. We (my brother, sister-in-law and myself) were able to clearly see and feel God’s hand upon us during this time of sorrow—to feel His peace and comfort in His own touch as well as those of family and friends.

In spite of the sorrow, the time at home was also a time of refreshment and rest. I was able to visit with many friends and family, to share some of the work God has allowed me to be part of with my home church, and to just rest. It was a time of joy for me.

And now, it is a time of work. I returned to the ship in late January shortly before we sailed to Togo. The work was fairly light upon returning and during sailing, but we hit the ground running here in Togo. In addition to being a ward nurse, I have added a couple of titles to my work here on the ship. I am now the Pediatric Coordinator as well as the Infant Feeding Program Coordinator. There was an infant waiting on the dock for me when we arrived to the ship so I was one of the few who were cleared by immigration to go down on the dock immediately. But, as we are back in Africa, my infant didn’t show up for several more hours. After arriving to Togo, the nurses immediately began cleaning the hospital and preparing for the patients. So I joined in for a few hours until it was time to go visit my baby and get him into the Infant Feeding Program. We continue to clean and set up the hospital and I will continue to check on my baby every couple of days until the hospital opens for patients on the 24th with first surgeries set for the 25th. It is good to be back at work.

This work is just as much yours as it is mine and it is all for His glory. I could not be here serving if it weren’t for my gracious financial and prayer supporters. I pray that this work will bless you as well. You are part of each patient’s story. I am only the hands. Thank you, for myself and those who cannot say thank you.

an ode to milk

milk
you are so creamy and white
although some add strawberry or chocolate
you froth and foam when heated
whole you are so full of taste
but you are healthy at 1-2%
and like water when skim
in all your forms so tasty
milk, please keep me from the evils of uht
alas, i must go and leave milk behind
and return to the place of milch
i will miss you milk

=)

Mom

i'm going to borrow a line out of one of my fave books..."the place she stood in my heart is now empty."

Carolyn E. Barnes was born in Lubbock, Texas on 9 January 1950. She went home to be with Jesus on 26 December 2009. I got to the hospital just in time to say goodbye. My mom was one of the most amazing people I know. Sure, she did things that as a child embarrassed me and as an adult just made me shake my head and she had that famous Whitten temper, but she was amazing. She had such a servant's heart...always looking to make sure people were comfortable and had what they needed even at cost to her own comfort and needs. She had a beautiful smile. She enjoyed music...singing, playing the piano, even writing her own music (although what became of it I don't know). She was very creative in general...painting, quilting, sewing, writing. She was my biggest cheerleader...she always encouraged me to reach for the stars and applauded me when I reached them and comforted me when I didn't. She loved her family and friends so much...they were her joy (and heartbreak) until her last breath. Her grandkids could bring a smile no matter how much pain she was in.

She was one of the bravest and strongest people I know. Her heart condition caused her so much pain and yet she fought to live every moment to the fullest.

She loved Jesus. He was definitely her all in all. She walked in His strength and wisdom and spent hours with Him in prayer, not just for herself to know Him more but petitioning Him for the needs and wants of her family and friends. She wanted everyone to know Him (and this desire made it a little easier to let her "baby" go off to the wilds of Africa so that He might be known).

I was very blessed to call her Mom. I never doubted that I was loved growing up. And as I grew to adulthood, she became my friend. She will be missed.

thank you for all your prayers for my mom in her illness and my family in this time of saying goodbye.