VVF Fundraiser

As I am preparing to leave for Danja, Niger I wanted to let you in on an opportunity to learn more about VVF and find out how you can support me and the operations in Danja.

On December 10 there will be a spaghetti fundraiser dinner and you are all invited. It will be at Waypoint Church in Gig Harbor, Washington (12719 134th Ave KPN Gig Harbor, WA 98329). There will be dinner, a presentation about what I will be doing in Niger, and a pie auction to help raise the support needed for me to work in Danja. Tickets are $7 and you can either purchase them from me before hand or at the door. Please RSVP to sarah_daphne@hotmail.com if you are planning to attend so we can have an idea of how many people to plan for.

Thanks again for all your support!

New Beginnings

I feel like I am entering into a new chapter of my life. That isn't a huge surprise knowing I am home now and getting ready to leave again soon but knowing where I am headed next, I feel like the experiences I have had thus far have been preparing me for this. The challenges, the new experiences, the cultural issues I have encountered have all been preparing me for what is to come. I wait in eager expectation for this next adventure.

Being home has been good. I have already spent some time in Coeur d' Alene with my sister and family and played with my niece and nephew there. They are both three and I can see how they are learning more about what I am doing. Whenever I left the house my niece would look at me and ask multiple times if I was coming back.

After staying with them for a short bit I headed to Kentucky for an international medical missions conference. The week I was there was just what I needed. I reconnected with some great old friends and was encouraged beyond measure. The times of worship and speakers had the words I know so many of us there needed to hear. Throughout the day there were sessions you could go to to hear speakers on different topics dealing with medical missions. Everything from how to minister to the Muslim community to worms to dealing with ethical issues. So much was presented that I am still processing through it all. I was excited before but now I have a greater excitement boiling inside me for all that could possibly be accomplished next year.

I am back now in Western Washington staying with my brother and his family. My nephews here are great. It's been wonderful reconnecting with them. I will be here for a few weeks to rest and play with them.

Mid January I will be leaving again for Niger. Until then I will be reconnecting with friends and doing fund raising. There will be a small team of us going to open a VVF hospital in Danja where I have visited and worked twice before. I am having to raise my own support for this so if you feel called to give there is a red tab on the right under my picture that you can click to give. Any gifts given through there are tax deductible and you will receive a receipt. Thank you for your help in changing lives of VVF women in Niger.

I will be in Western Washington until mid December then I am headed back to Coeur d' Alene for a bit. If you would like meet up and chat about any of this or just meet up for some coffee, please leave a comment on here and I would love to catch up. Thank you all for your prayers and support during this time!

Goodbye Sweet Salone

Yes, again it has been awhile since I last updated on here. Sorry-o. I am now home in the USA. I will say it is nice to be home but in all honesty, it was very hard to leave. Many tears were shed and my heart hurt as I got in the water taxi to go to the airport Wednesday night. I'm still not fully home. One more flight to take me to Spokane and to bed.

One of the reasons I haven’t written on here in so long is honestly because I didn’t have time. The last month in Sierra Leone was c-r-a-z-y! You could say it did not end how I had hoped it would or in the way I had imagined. When the thought came up of me coming home early, I should have come home in January, I knew it was right. I had trained up a national nurse to be the ward supervisor and I had full confidence she would do a great job. I knew I could leave knowing she would be fine and the other nurses looked up to her and respected her. I felt like I had accomplished what I went there to do.

About two weeks ago this all changed very quickly when it was found out that many drugs were missing from the pharmacy and she was the reason. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. After learning this, more lies just as horrible were brought to light as well. I felt like the last six months I had spent training her were all of a sudden a lie. Like the work I had been doing was a waste of time. I don’t believe that now but it was a huge struggle for me for a time. After this all came out I laid in bed and went through every conversation we had and wondered if all we talked about and all she shared with me was a lie as well. When we realized medications were missing I told people it wasn’t her. I couldn’t believe it could be. I felt completely let down but I know my nurses did as well. They all trusted her as much as I did and I know this all came as a shock to everyone who worked at the centre.

God really is so good though. As I was training this nurse, I was training up another nurse along side her as well. She did not have as much training with me as this first nurse but I really do believe that she will do a fabulous job. The areas she struggles in are areas where she will have much support from others at the centre. Computers, paperwork, those lovely things.

Many people have asked me in the last week what I will miss about Sierra Leone: the patients, the nurses, my friends, beautiful Sierra Leone beaches, Thursday and Friday lunches (groundnut and rice and beans and rice), the sense of community in the ward where the women take care of each other, VVF women who come back to have their babies at the centre-- just to name a few. I do find comfort in knowing that come January I will be headed back to Africa, Niger this time, to open the fistula centre at Danja. I am so thankful that my time working with VVF women has not come to an end although my time in Sierra Leone is done. I have learned so so so so much this year and I know I can take most of that with me next year.

My current plan is that I will be in the states now until mid January before I leave for Niger. I will write a post soon about what that is all about. I will be home visiting family and friends and doing fundraising. Back at it! Thank you all for your prayers and support during my time in Sierra Leone. In all honesty, I don’t know if I would have survived without all your prayers and support during the past ten months.

Oh, and my bruise is much better. It’s still there but now it just looks like a large birthmark on my back. Still tender to touch it but I know that will get better with time.

The Fall...

I started writing this the day after I got injured. It is now three weeks later and I am ok...

Before I start this post, I want to say that I am ok.

Yesterday (as in three weeks ago when I started writing this) I went to my room to eat lunch. After lunch I grabbed my umbrella and headed back to work. It had just started raining. I opened my umbrella and started down my steps. Crocs on, umbrella open, carrying my water bottle and empty bowls. I made it down the first set of stairs then turned the landing and as I started down the second set of stairs my feet went out from under me and I proceeded to hit every step on my way down. Cement stairs covered with tile. My left flank and left elbow hit every step on the way down.

When I got to the bottom I could only swear. I could move and feel my legs but I knew I couldn’t get up. Luckily I had my phone in my pocket and I called Jude, my boss. I told her I was hurt and told her where I was. My umbrella landed right over the top of me so I was able to stay mostly dry. She came quickly. I couldn’t get up. Dr John and Maggie and Simon and everyone else showed up out of nowhere. I was told they were going to get the stretcher but I kept saying that if I just sit for a few minutes I would be ok. Deep down I knew that wasn’t true. Any movement and I started crying. The decision was made that Simon would pick me up from behind and someone else get my legs like a fireman hold and get me in a chair. From there they would carry me up the stairs to an empty room. The pain was unbearable and only got so much worse when they tried to put me in the chair. I couldn’t sit. The stretcher showed up and I was laid on it. When my tears came they couldn’t stop. The pain, the embarrassment, everything that started running through my head about being in Sierra Leone and what could go wrong.

They carried me on the stretcher to Orange Ward which was empty. I told them to just put me on the bed on the stretcher but they wanted to get me off it. Profanities ran like a river out of my mouth. I could only lay on my right side. Esther showed up and I realized that things that are said that annoy me so much, annoy so much more when I am hurt. I really dislike it when I am told not to cry when you know that crying helps so much to get the emotion and even pain out. To tell someone that you will be fine or that Jesus will heal me so I don’t need to cry or worry about anything. You don’t know if I will be fine. You don’t know if I will be ok, will need surgery, or if I broke something. You don’t know. Jesus does heal. Miracles happen. God can deliver you from your pain. Does He do it for everyone? No. That is His choice, not mine. I know I shouldn’t worry because God does have a plan, but don’t tell me that God will heal me and I won’t need surgery and I shouldn’t cry. I know she was trying to help and just doing her best to comfort me. A clash of cultures which wouldn’t be the only one of the day.

Jude and Dr John decided pretty quick that I needed X-rays. The ship has a machine but they wouldn’t be able to be read until a day later. I looked up and Dr Lewis came in and told me I was going to Emergency Hospital. I cracked a smile, thinking she was joking. Emergency Hospital is the hospital we send our VVF patients to if they have an RVF. A local hospital which is run by the Italians. When I heard I was headed to Emergency, I have to admit, I got scared. I would have preferred the comfort of the ship where I know people. Where I have friends. Dr Lewis’ husband works at Emergency as a surgeon. She was confident that this was the best place to be seen. There is an orthopedic surgeon there and she was certain this was the place for me to go.

Back onto the stretcher. More tears. More language. Out of the heart the mouth speaks. I was loaded into the back of an Aberdeen Women’s Centre car. All the long ones were out so when I was put in the shorter one, the doors wouldn’t close fully. The back doors were tied closed with wire.

The trip to Emergency was unbelievably painful. Every pothole and every bump was felt and received with tears. Dr John was sitting next to me and held my hand the way there. It was comforting. I felt like a little kid continually asking if we were there yet. I could tell where we were at times. I knew we were on the long stretch of road that passes right in front of the ocean when it felt like we were driving over a cheese grater. We were in Lumley when I saw the colorful umbrellas from the sellers in the market. Laying down in the back I could see full taxis and busses passing. Babies carried on backs and women with large baskets on their heads.

When we arrived at Emergency I was taken out of the AWC vehicle on the stretcher and I felt like I was dumped onto the Emergency stretcher. They wanted me to lie on my back and straighten my legs. Ow. No fun. It’s a very vulnerable position to be in when all you can see are the people pushing you into the emergency room and the white ceiling.

Although the pain in my back was excruciating, the pain from my full bladder was increasing. HR 106, BP 140/80. Yes, I do remember this. I don’t remember when I so aware of what was going on. Needing to know what was happening. I was laying against the wall with the air conditioning unit right above me, dripping water from the unit collected in a bucket below and every now and then I would get a drop on my face or arm.

The doctors were Italian and the nurses were from Sierra Leone. They were all so good to me. After the doctor examined me I was finally given diclofenac IM. That helped with some of the pain. The worst was yet to come though. X-rays were needed. I was wheeled into the hallway and parked there to wait my turn. The pain was already returning. I was crying as I pounded my hand against the wall. At this point I think it finally hit me that this wasn’t a good situation to be in. If something was broken, what were my options? Would I have surgery here or be evacuated? Why the heck did I fall? How ridiculous was this?! I knew it wasn’t good. Every small move brought forth a pain I couldn’t stand to bear. It was finally my turn in radiology. The men were very nice but to turn onto the hard boards was not something I enjoyed doing. This was the worst pain yet. After it was finished, about an hour later, more x-rays were needed to back in I went and more pain had. After the x-rays were done, I was taken back into the emergency room, the large open room, and my wet x-rays were brought and hung on the IV pole at the end of my bed with the chemicals dripping down onto me.

While I laid there waiting for the results, some interesting patients were brought in. Like I said, this was an open room. No curtains. Nothing to separate you from the patient next to you who broke his wrist. Three doctors surrounded this calm looking man and as two pulled traction and the other casted, the man screamed and screamed and screamed. I couldn’t help but watch. My stretcher was the table for the bandages. When that was done another man was wheeled in. His mud house fell in on him the day before. He was unable to move his arms or legs since. He was taken to a local healer who poured boiling water down his back in an attempt to heal him. This is not uncommon here. I looked over when he was rolled onto his side and the skin was all burned off his back. A woman came in who had fibroids which needed to be removed. I guess they can do them at Emergency. I wish I would have known that earlier. I was always told no where in Sierra Leone could this be done. We get so many women here in Aberdeen with this and no where to send them.

The docs finally came to look at my X-rays after giving me a shot of tramadol. That is great stuff! They finally said I had a broken iliac wing. Three Italian docs looking at my many films all decided this. Dr John and Jude were finally allowed back in to see me and we decided I would head to the Africa Mercy to recoup there.

When I got to the ship there was a good amount of people waiting for me. The tramadol stayed in my system for hours it felt so the ride there wasn’t bad. It took just over an hour or so to get there with the traffic. When I arrived, the side door opened and I saw Jane, a wonderful friend there who worked to get things situated for me to arrive. When the back door opened there were four big Ukrainian guys ready to carry me up the gangway on the stretcher. I will say this many times, but this was the most humbling experience of my life.

To speed up the story now...

When I got to the deck 3 hospital, I was taken to C ward where my friends had made me up a bed with a bright green apple comforter. I was taken first to get new x-rays of my pelvis and left elbow which had a great tunnel formed in it. My films from the ship were sent to the orthopedic doc who comes to do the ortho surgeries on the ship and to another radiologist in Canada. The ortho surgeon said I had broken my pelvis and I had a funny looking SI joint which I would need a CT scan to fully see if it was broken, and the radiologist in Canada said everything looked fine. All I knew was that any movement and I was in excruciating pain. The iliac wing fracture which was my diagnosis at Emergency Hospital turned out to be a smudge on the films. Kind of funny to look at now and see this smudge which brought me so much anxiety a few hours earlier...

For seven days I was on bed rest on board the Africa Mercy. If the ship was not here I would have been airlifted to Europe somewhere for scans and treatment. Finally on the seventh day I had a CT which showed nothing was broken. Seven days later it still hurt so much to bend or move certain ways but the pain was improving. Those seven days in the hospital I was shown such love. The friends I have here are incredible. I never ate a meal alone. We had picnics for lunch and dinner where friends would bring me food from the dining hall. We celebrated two friend’s birthdays while I was there with cake and watching Planet Earth. Documented my bruise which grew and changed to the prettiest blues and purples. They came and watched movies with me. Brought me a fake plant to brighten the room. Talked. We figured out how I could turn a bit so they could wash my hair. They listened to me and advocated for me and listened more to my frustration as I knew I was going to have to cancel my flight home for my brother’s wedding. All such amazing women.

On day seven, after the CT results, physical therapy came to get me out of bed. Jane helped as well as I first stood and walked with a walker then crutches. After I could do this, I moved to a guest cabin and saw rain and sunlight for the first time in seven days. I spent another week in that cabin sleeping mostly and moving more.

I’m now back in Aberdeen. It’s amazing to hear all that has happened in the last three weeks. The week before I fell I had to fire two nurses. Esther hired two more while I was away. I wasn’t expecting this at all. She told me the questions she asked and reasons for not hiring certain nurses who interviewed. I am very impressed with her and proud.

Now it is slowly getting back into work. On the 8th we will be launching a hotline for VVF throughout Sierra Leone. A toll free number where people can call if they think they know someone with VVF. It should be a wonderful day. Please pray for this opening that it goes smoothly and women hear about this centre who need to.

Blood

I have talked about blood before. How if a patient needs blood, we are the walking blood bank. I know the blood type of my colleagues. You never know when you will need to call them up and ask when they last gave blood because you need theirs now. Usually people here will have to bring in their own blood donors if they go into a hospital knowing they will need a transfusion. Last week a VVF patient needed one so we asked her to call her family. She needed two units so we needed two people to come in. Even though she was from Guinea she still knew enough people in Freetown that her family was able to call around and find two people to come in. Even though they were not the type we needed, it still helped to give us blood in our bank and we were still able to get her the type she needed.

The blood drama of the day started yesterday. When a patient needs a blood transfusion, you know it is going to be a long day. Yesterday there was one patient and today another. We still had not finished with the blood drama of yesterday before today had started. Both the VVF patients who needed blood did not know anyone in Freetown. We did not have the correct type of blood in our bank. Next step, ask those who work at the centre. Ok. I still don't understand what it is, but giving blood is taboo here. Even the woman who is going into the community to advocate for blood donations would not give today even though she knew she was the right type. I asked probably thirty people today if they would donate. Only five people were willing to even be tested to see if they were the right match.

Here are some of my favorite excuses:

I'm fasting.

I have high blood pressure.

My menses stopped yesterday.

I don't have enough.

I am not the right type. (After hearing that we couldn't take someone with AB blood,

all of a sudden eveyone had AB blood)

I am not prepared to do it today...ask me tomorrow.

I gave a year ago and I'm still working on getting it back.

Yes. Some are legit excuses. Most just made me laugh. One man I found to be tested was a caregiver of a sick child in the outpatient pediatric clinic. He didn't work here. He was just willing to help. Too bad he wasn't a right match! Now we have him to call if we need him though. I'm sure some had health issues they didn't want known even to the lab guys and that is completely legit. It just surprises me that it was so difficult to find someone to help another person when there is so much suffering here to start with. With everyone I talked with I tried to teach them the fallacy in their thinking but there is something is so engrained in their thinking that donating blood is not something you do.

How do you change this?

Sisters. Sisters. There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters...

I can't help but picture Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye singing this song as I sit down to write this... (if you have seen White Christmas you would know what I am talking about.)

Anyway, moving on.

We have a patient advocate who brings us many patients. The last group of women she brought were all from Guinea. Three beautiful women, all with the same last name. I didn't think anything of this since Barrie is a very common name especially if you come from Guinea. I quickly found out that these three women were related. Two of them sisters with the same mother and father and the other was the daughter-in-law of one of the women. They all came from Kaiyako, a samll village in Guinea. Fatmata Barrie was examined and it was seen that the extent of her injury was too much for Dr. Lewis so she had to return home. The other two, the sisters Mariama and Zainabu are still here and they even had their surgeries the same day. They both speak Fullah, the common dialect of Guinea. It is difficult to speak with them but we do have one woman who works in the office who can communicate with them. They both lived together in the same house before they got married. They never attended school.

Mariama met Bobakar, her husband, and became pregnant very soon after they got married. She stayed with her husband during her pregnancy and during the ninth month she went into labor. She was at home for six days in labor before it was decided to take her to the hospital. She did not make it to the hospital before her mother delivered a stillborn baby girl on the road. After arriving at the hospital the doctor told her to return home. At home she felt the urine starting to leak down her legs. When she told her husband, he sent message to Mariama's mother and told her to come. When the mother arrived she asked Mariama to explain the problem. After explaining to her mother, the mother and Bobakar discussed what they could do for her. Bobakar told her mother that he did not want her anymore and she would have to care for her. Mariama's mother took her in and cared for her.

Zainabu also became pregnant very soon after marrying Ibrahim, her husband. Again, she carried her child for nine months and during the ninth month she went into labor. For seven days she labored. On the seventh day she birthed a stillborn baby boy. If the child would have survived he would be twenty years old this year. Hew was delivered by Zainabu's mother in their home. The day after delivery she noticed she was leaking urine. She never went to the hospital to see a doctor about this. Her husband did not abandon her but they are not able to sleep in the same bed because she has this problem. Zainabu is one of three wives to Ibrahim. She is the only one not allowed to share a bed or even enter into his room.

Mariama and Zainabu were met by a woman who knew about this centre and she brought them down here from Guinea. They both had surgery on the ninth of August and they are doing well. They will be here for at least another week. All I can say to them is 'jarama', meaning hello. It always makes them laugh. Usually when I tell the women I want to take their picture they stand side by side with their arms to their side. When Mariama and Zainabu stood to get their picture taken they immediately put their arm around each other. It was really cute.

On a side note, the rain today was unreal. It has not stopped! Not just a drizzle. Torrential downpour. Even the locals say this is one of the worst rainy seasons.

Thanks and Goodbye

Five of the women sportin' their Lutherhaven gear

Some thanks are in order. Not just from me but from the patients as well.

First, thanks to Camp Lutherhaven for the t-shirt donation for the women. They are now nicely decked out in Cut, Crop and Quilt weekend and Great Escape t-shirts. Lovely! A bit of home for me to look at daily as well.

Also to my mother for the donation of crochet hooks. The women are loving them and making many chop covers,covers for their food. Thanks!

I have to share a story from today which brought me to tears. We have had a patient on the ward for two weeks now. She arrived from a screening trip completely wet and completely unable to walk. She could barely move her legs and had difficulty moving her hands as well. After being seen by the surgeon it was seen that she did not have a fistula but had completely lost all sensation to her bladder and the obstructed labor completely took away her ability to walk. We do have two physical therapists here at the centre who have been working with her and although she has a very long road ahead of her to recovery, in the last two weeks there has been such an improvement. Today when she left, she could sit in her wheelchair and use her legs to push or pull herself around the ward. She always smiled and thanked everyone for everything done for her. I have seen her cry more than any patient before. You could sense the frustration but she would never show it. She was just full of thanks. A few nights after she arrived I was visiting the ward in the evening. She waved at me and told me to come over. She took my hand and said she was going to call me her momma. Today her aunt and brother came to take her home. All the patients said and waved goodbye as she left. They have all been great with helping her with whatever she has needed. I cried as Haggar prayed for her. She has an appointment to come back in three months for follow up. Please join me in prayer that she will be walking through the door at that time.