It's all in the name...

My time in admissions is coming to an end on Thursday and I'll be back in the OR next week (YAY!). I have had a good time learning again how to draw blood and doing health histories & physical assessments.  More than anything, I have enjoyed the time to sit down and talk with patients, of course through a translator. I love hearing their stories of struggles and their hopes for healing. 

The most entertaining part of working on the hospital ship in Africa- are pronouncing the patients' names.  I usually greet my older patients with "Papa" or "Mama". In return, I get a smile that needs no translation. My first week in admissions I had a little girl, Bernice, who was blind due to bilateral congenital cataracts. I gave her a teddy bear that she became so engrossed in feeling all the textures. I had her sit in my lap as I did vital signs and she found my stethoscope and followed it with her little fingers to my face. The day after her surgery, I had the privilege to witness Bernice open her eyes for the first time and reach for the toys we had laid out in front of her. 

Next, is Simon. He was also a young boy with cataracts. I had processed him through admissions the first week, but we were unable to do surgery until late July. So twice I was able to sit down with Simon and his father to hear their story and pray for Simon. Couple days later, I saw them again in the waiting area and Simon was holding the toy I gave him. He had held the dwarf (from Snow-white) so close to his face to see what I had put in his hands the first day in admissions. As I walked over to greet his them again, his father took my hands in his and said in his broken English "He can see now, Simon can see. Thank you." I thank God for allowing me to be a part of that healing process. 

There are so many I can write about... Jean-Baptis, older man with an inguinal hernia repair. Always a smile and a handshake for me when I see him waiting for his post-op visits. Lousisiano, little boy, with lip hemangioma, that shed just one tear when I drew blood, but gave me a crooked smile when I finished.  Filias, a brave little boy, came in for a hernia operation- he giggled as he watched me take his blood. Emmanuel from Nigeria (see past blog) greets me in the hall now as he is recovering from major surgery. I saw young Nasif leave this morning with his mama and his polar bear stuffed animal in tow. I pray he will be back to the ship later this year for surgery to correct his locked jaw.  Today, I finished with a young man, named Kokou, which means he was born on a Wednesday. Everyday of the week has a gender specific name in the Mina language. I would be Afi (for Friday).

We have helped hundreds of people this outreach in Benin. They become numbers in somebody's book, but to me each person has a story behind their name.