Rapunzel

I have a hard time knowing how honest to be in my blogs. Honestly, the last week and a half has been great. I've been having a lot of fun with the patients. It seemed like my nurses were starting to get it. It has taken a long time, almost five months in, but I'm finally feeling like I can see a purpose and although it's not what I thought it was going to be, I'm here and I'm growing and learning and serving and it's not for myself. It's me, growing closer to God and learning to trust and rely and although I'm just starting to learn this, I'm learning to persevere...so I can be mature and complete... True, my time here is about the women as well. That is why I am here, and they are wonderful. It's about training up nurses as well, but there is so much more.

I am in a wonderful Bible study with amazing women. We met tonight. It's funny because one thing we talked about was how we once desired something and how we saw it come to pass. That's me here. I remember being young and desiring to "come to Africa". It's great to look back and see how it came to be... first turning my life over to Christ. Dropping out of college. Doing YWAM. Living and working at camp. Becoming a nurse. Doing Mercy Ships. Two trips to Niger... and here I am. Living with two feet on solid ground on a continent I once only dreamed of. Your desires can take a long time to be brought to fruition. When David was anointed to be king, it took him 22 years between the time he was called and actually being crowned. It all takes time. I'm digressing a bit.

So here I am in Sierra Leone. Not living on a ship. Living on land. Loving life on land, but struggling so much with my nurses and even more so today as I learned there is more dishonesty and lack of caring and concern and passion for the patients. How do you teach compassion? You can't. I've learned that. Most people here don't become nurses because they want to. They don't usually grow up thinking, I want to be a nurse. No. They have three options: lawyer, nurse or one other thing I can't remember right now. In Sierra Leone there are not many options. You go to nursing school because that's actually one of the three options. You either have compassion and a drive to work and do a good job, or you come to work and sit and talk on your phone and watch as your patient's surgery fails. The second someone isn't behind you telling you to get off your phone, fix the tape on the catheter, is the urine draining, maybe you should give your patient pain medication since they are obviously in pain, yes, constipation can ruin a surgery and maybe you should do something about it, and on and on and on.

Today I told myself over and over to persevere. Persevere not just for my sake, but for the sake of the VVF women. Persevere.

At Bible study tonight it was good to share and see how it's not just me not being able to handle it. Tonight there were five of us from four different organizations. We all deal with the same sort of issues. It's hard to see any sort of change even from those who have lived here for years. How do you change generations of corruption and bitterness? You don't. You can't. I can say with full confidence that only God can do that and I pray that a miracle will be done.

Constipation

The best cure for constipation (for the patients) is water and a large dose of singing and dancing...

In case you were wondering...

Persevere

Consider it PURE JOY, my brothers,

whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith develops

perseverance.

Perseverance MUST finish its work so that you may be mature

and complete,

not lacking ANYTHING.

James 1:2-4

Hawa

I asked one of my nurses yesterday to write a patient story. I thought she did a great job especially since she wrote it as if it was the patient writing. Here is Hawa's story...

My name is Hawa Sheku. I am twenty five years old. I live in Gborbu Yawee chiefdom, Kailhaun district. I attended the Methodist primary school, Malayma Yawae. I stopped at class three when the war broke out in my village. That was the end of my schooling. I am a farmer and housewife but I want to learn a trade like hairdressing or dress maker, seamstress.

I am married to Sheku Ngebga. I was fourteen years of age when we got married. I became pregnant at fifteen and was happy. I have been pregnant twice and the second pregnancy gave me this VVF.

The start of the labor pains came for some time and bleeding followed. That was the time my family traveled with me to Kenema Government Hospital. I spent one night in labor pains and I was operated on for caesarean section by the doctor. I was in labor for two days overall. My husband did his best to bring me to the government hospital to save the life of my baby and myself but it was rather unfortunate that we lost the baby. He was alive for three days and on the forth post-operative day, I lost my baby. Also, that was the time I realized I had urine incontinence. At that moment I told my husband and we explained to the nurse who told the doctor. The doctor now explained to me what brought my problem, that during my prolonged labor the pressure of his head compressed my urethra and damaged it. He told me it was not his fault. He also told me about a hospital where they could fix it. It was only urine leaking from me, not feces.

My husband felt so bad because of the constraints, pain, finances and the loss of our son. My family members felt bad for me and since that day they have been having sympathy for me. My husband and my family supported me fully. I have had this problem for six years. The only problem now is that I don’t have a living child. I have never attempted VVF surgery before. This is my first time.

I heard about the Aberdeen Women’s Centre through the radio and a team from the centre picked me up and brought me here. I’ve been here for twelve days. When I came I was afraid I would not be healed. How was it going to work?

Now I know I am cured because since after my surgery I’m dry and observed no wetness. I am really cared for by the doctor, nurses, international staff, teacher and the other patients. My best friend here is Massah Saffa.

My husband will be very very happy. My relatives will also be happy. Some of my friends will be happy. Yes, they will welcome me.

I will be very happy to reach my home healed because I came sick.

Bits and Pieces

I was so proud of one of my nurses today. She came to me and told me, calmly, that a patient had no urine output for two hours. I looked at her and said, do you realize this is an emergency. She said yes as I was getting irritated as I was almost running to the patient to see what was wrong. A blocked catheter, one that is not draining, can harm the patient and ruin an entire surgery if it is not fixed right away. I got to the patients bedside and I could tell she wasuncomfortable, another sign the catheter wasn't draining. I also noticed that on the end of the bed was a syringe with sterile water and a pair of gloves. I looked at Fatmata, the nurse and asked what that was. She said it was the sterile water and gloves so I could flush the catheter. For a second I felt like crying, then got over it, but I was so proud of her. Proud that she knew what needed to happen and had all the supplies there. I walked over to get another pair of gloves and she said she had some already for me. I told her those were hers since she was going to flush it. She looked surprised. I just don't get it. Fatmata knew what to do. She knew this was an emergency and to get help. I don't think her or the other nurses have been empowered to take the next step to follow through. She flushed the catheter just fine and the urine flowed and the problem was solved. Check. Now it's just taking her to the next level.

Massah, oh Massah. Massah is a patient who was here many months ago. She left dry but came

back after she had a small issue at home and her repair was reopened. Funny, funny woman. She speaks Mende, another language I have not and probably will not master. She likes to say words with funny sounds and I will copy her and we all laugh. Today I kept hearing a baby crying, no, screaming, so I went to see what was happening. Massah was sitting on a bench holding this screaming baby. The baby was just perched on her knee and the screams didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. I walked over to her with my fingers in my ears and said, "Massah, feed your baby!" I said this jokingly because I knew it wasn't her baby. She looked at me and smiled and said, "Not my baby. This my baby..." as she picked up the tube to her catheter and shook it a bit. Ok, fair enough.

Massah and Seibatu are friends. They both started their journey's out here together about three months ago. After Massah had her surgery, Seibatu would come and sit on the bed next to her and they would chat. Seibatu had her surgery yesterday. Things could be going better for her. Her catheter is bothering her quite a bit and today she started leaking. It's hard to tell at this point what it means but prayers for her would be great.

Birthday Babies

I had mentioned in a previous post watching a birth on my birthday. Here they are. The baby on the right which the mother is touching is my namesake, Sarah. Although the mother is also named Sarah, this Sarah is named after me, according to the mother, Sarah. The other baby, guess the name... Rebecca. Sarah didn't know I had a sister named Rebecca and now there is another Sarah and Rebecca running around, or sleeping eating and pooping, in the far reaches of West Africa.

Yeama

Meet Yeama. Yeama says she is 60, but I am willing to bet she is a little more than that. She no longer is a patient here but she always made me laugh. She spoke Mende so a few nurses could communicate with her. When she arrived here it looked as though she had scoliosis. She was very very hunched over. As time went on and Yeama spent more time here she stood straighter. She finally told us that she had her fistula for so long that she became hunched in a way to protect herself from humiliation. She left last week not yet completely healed. She says she will come back in three months and I hope she does. On rounds in the mornings you could tell what mood she was in by the glare in her eyes or the pursing of her lips. The day her catheter came out, even though we had explained what was going to happen, about five minutes after it came out you could see the fear in her eyes as she looked around for this tube and bag which had become her constant companion for twenty-one days. She had forgotten we had removed it after she had done such a great job taking care of it.