A Little Love Goes a Long Way

Some of my favourite patients down on the wards are the VVF (vesicovaginal fistula) ladies. They have been through so much pain and suffering, losing a child in a horribly painful and long childbirth that has caused them to leak urine and most of them to become outcasts for years. Yet they always offer a ca va? (how you doin?) with a big grin when walking down the hospital hall, a handshake and cheek kisses, hugs, dancing etc. I was walking very quickly down the hall one day and one of the ladies started copying me and walking fast with her arms pumping all the while grinning mischievously at me. I couldn't help but laugh. Next time she saw me she did the same thing again.  Another time I was sitting on the ward for a Sunday ward service beside one of the ladies lying in bed. She held out her hand right beside me as though begging me to take it. When I grabbed her hand and squeezed it she smiled at me and held on tightly for the remainder of the service. Such a simple act but it meant a lot to both of us. 
As I said many of them are outcasts. Even most of there husbands abandon them. There is so much inner emotional stuff to deal with as well as physical stuff. So when they come here and everyone gives them so much love they just are so loving back. When I went to a dress ceremony (the woman who are dry due to successful surgery get new dresses to symbolize becoming a new person and being able to re-enter society) for the first time hearing their stories through the translators really touched me and there was not a dry eye in the room by the time they were finished. Here is a story written by one of the Africa Mercy writers about one of the ladies journeys:

What could possibly compel a poor woman in West Africa to travel over 1000 kilometers – a journey that would take six months and exhaust all of her resources and ingenuity – to get to a hospital ship? The answer is stark in its simplicity – the journey was born out of a desperate, fragile hope that she could find healing and restoration.

Binta lives in southeast Guinea. Six months ago, a man in her village told her about news he had heard on the radio – a hospital ship was coming to the nation’s capital, Conakry. “The ship has doctors that can help you,” the man said.

Binta is in her late thirties and has suffered from vesicovaginal fistula (VVF), a devastating childbirth injury, since she was a teenager. During several days of prolonged, obstructed labor, Binta’s baby was stillborn during a traumatizing delivery. The injury to her birth canal made Binta incontinent; she has been continuously leaking urine for years. Her condition made her an outcast within her own remote village. But now there was news that she could be “fixed” . . . and she dared to hope.

With the little money she had, Binta set out on her journey – a trip that was filled with new experiences.

She traveled from her village in the dense rainforest region to the city of Senko. Once there, she used what little money she had to pay for transportation to the next city – Beyla. It was her first time to ever ride in a car.

From Beyla to Nzerekore to Macenta to Gueckedou to Kissidougou to Conakry – a blur of new sights and sounds. She stopped when she had to, staying in one city for up to two months where she worked doing laundry to save enough money for the next leg of her journey. She paid people with cars or motorbikes to give her a lift. Binta traveled more than 661 miles (1063 km) in 6 months to seek help from Mercy Ships.

Finally, she arrived on the dock – with no money and only the clothes on her back. “It was something inside of me that told me, ‘Do it!’” Binta said. The Africa Mercy is the first ship she has ever seen.

Last week, Mercy Ships volunteer surgeon Dr. Steve Arrowsmith repaired Binta’s fistula. Today she is dry. She no longer leaks urine; she no longer smells. And now, Binta longs to return home to her sister’s children, triplets, whom she has cared for since her sister passed away in 2011. Because there are no phones there, Binta hasn’t spoken with her family since she left. Fortunately, she will get home to them soon – a much simpler journey this time, with assistance from Mercy Ships.

And Binta will leave Mercy Ships with a dry skirt, a full heart and a new life. Her courage has been rewarded, her hope has been reborn, and her life has been restored!

Written by Catherine Clarke Murphy
Edited by Nancy Predaina
Photographs by Deb Bell and Michelle Murrey

   

Smiles and Hugs

There is no shortage of adorable children in Africa. One of the most precious things is when a child runs at you, arms spread wide open and hugs your knees in a tight embrace. That would melt even the coldest of hearts. 

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Goodbyes are a natural part of life. But on the Africa Mercy they are almost a constant part of life. Every weekend a number of crew walk down to the dock for the dreaded dock goodbye. Little groups of people hugging, laughing, and crying with "come visit me in this and that country" floating through the air before the land rovers carry those departing around the corner to pick up those replacing them. 
And before getting adjusted to not having this or that close friend around, a new smiling face is there waiting to make new friends, asking the same old questions that you were so excited to ask upon arrival. "Where are you from?", how long are you here?", "what department are you in?"etc... And the last thing you want to do is answer because you don't want to make new friends just to say goodbye to them too. But once this little cloud of depression passes you realize you need to make new friends and it really isn't that bad. And so this cycle continues week after week. Just another unique part of Mercy Ships.

Miss all my ladies who've been on the leaving end of the goodbyes!