enchanté.

Gather 'round, my dear friends, for it is story time.

Once upon a time, in a far-off land...

...there was an oddly wonderful village. Now this village was unlike any other village. It was a floating village-- the whole village lived and worked on a majestic ship, full of character, called the Africa Mercy. There was something enchanted about the ship, but the real magic happened on the ship's third deck: the hospital. No one would enter without coming away changed, often drastically, for the better. 

The time is now. The land is Congo. The people are real. Meet them, pray for them, celebrate with them, LOVE them!

Alvin.

Alvin had a small benign tumor in his mouth/neck. I say had because it is no more. :) The tumor made his little cheek puff out, quite fittingly like a chipmunk... which you just have to laugh about. I got to send him to the OR for the first surgery of Mercy Ships' field service here in Congo. When we prayed for him on the bench where all patients here are offered prayer before heading into surgery, I remember having an overwhelming feeling of being right where I was supposed to be. After a quick recovery, Alvin was back to hogging all the toys and stealing the nurses' hearts. He is now home with his family, probably getting into more mischief than ever before... "Aaaaaalviiiiiiiin!!!" Sadly I don't have a photo of Alvin, so this one will just have to do. :)

Merveille.

Merveille means 'wonderful' in French, and he is quite wonderful. Merveille had a palatoplasty done to fix his cleft palate. Can you imagine going 12 years of your life with a hole in the top of your mouth? He wasn't a huge fan of the NG tube (who would be?), but he still weathered the recovery like a champ. He also wasn't a fan of the soft diet (no rice!!) he had to adhere to post-op, but I'm a picky eater myself so I really couldn't blame him. He loved to laugh at me as I tried to count in French and Kituba while he did his palate exercises. Merveille's dad was the best coach one could ask for, by his side every minute and encouraging him in his recovery, in his speech exercises, and in the game of UNO. Oh my goodness, I have never seen a kid have so much trouble learning a card game. Every time he tried to put a green 7 down on top of a red 3, I just couldn't help but laugh! To be fair, I was attempting to explain the rules of the game in VERY broken French and Kituba, with a lot of reliance on hand gestures. :) Please pray that he continues to develop his speech, as he is having to learn a whole new way to form sounds with his now anatomically-correct mouth!

Alistera.

This sweet one has captured my heart. And not just because she is from my home-away-from-home, Uganda. :) She was brought here by a local doctor who is doing some pretty incredible things for disabled Ugandan children through his non-profit EDYAC-- you can check it out here! Admitted for severe burns she experienced as a young girl, her first surgery (of several planned) is today! She is very self-conscious of her scarring and shyly keeps the burned side of her face turned away-- BUT she is gradually beginning to come out of her shell, slowly starting to lift up her gaze, and us nurses couldn't be more thrilled. We sing through her dressing changes, and I tell her how beautiful she is, praying that she would know that she is SO loved. She teaches me to count in her local language while she compliantly takes her daily cocktail of less-than-tasty nutrition supplements to aid with wound healing. We turned one wall of her room into an art gallery displaying her superb coloring skills, and you will often find her bandages covered in "flair", like stickers and pipe-cleaner flowers. 

Alphonse.

Alphonse has been with us for over two weeks now. He serves as our ward's DJ, keeping us entertained with Congolese, Nigerian, and American tunes played from his phone. It is not uncommon to hear his voice singing out while I'm giving a tube feed on the other side of the ward or when we are giving shift report. He had a surgery that required a giant skin graft to be taken from his leg and placed on his face. He carefully watches each dressing change with a mirror, surveying our technique and never once complaining, though I am certain it is quite painful for him. Pray for Alphonse as his skin graft is not taking well right now.

Vernel.

Oh Vernel. I dare you not to fall in love with this 6-year-old's smile. He is just as full of life as these photos depict! And he gives the best hugs. One of my favorite moments of him was after his surgery when he was having trouble keeping down any food. I finally sweetened up some yogurt and gave it to him, and he just devoured it. As in, almost ate the spoon itself. The whole ward was laughing and he responded with a tiny yogurt-covered smile (difficult post-cleft lip repair, as you can imagine). He is heading home tomorrow after spending the weekend recovering at the HOPE center. He lives pretty far up-country and a few members of our media team are traveling with him to document his home-coming. Not that he was shy before, but I can imagine now he will be quite an unstoppable force in his village! Hopefully, I will have some photos/footage of that to share with you in the coming weeks!

Pressley.

Baby Pressley was one of the first of many precious babies with cleft lips to come through our ward. I didn't get to be his care nurse, but I did get some good snuggles. Just look at him!! What a blessing that he will spend the rest of his life without a lip deformity!

Gercia.

Whew, does this girl have a personality. Vehemently stubborn, for a while we couldn't tell if her "altered mental status" was due to a neurologic complication after her encephalocele repair, or just her ignoring us because she didn't like us nor anything we were making her do. Then one weekend my friend and fabulous fellow nurse, Becky (pictured above), discovered the power of tough love and bribery by cookies... and she got Gercia to walk up 4 flights of stairs to go outside on deck 7! By the end of her stay with us, Gercia was still her obstinate self, but she wore a smile much more often-- especially when bubbles were involved. And God bless her Grandmomma. Pray for Gercia's continued healing and that her stubborness and determination will be used to accomplish great things! :)

Thersia.

I was more than happy to welcome this cutie back from her cleft lip repair and, like a typical 6 month old, she did NOT like me or anyone else at first. Poor baby girl would cry, which would hurt her newly repaired cleft lip, which would make her cry more. But as we got on top of her pain and put some milk in her tummy, her smiles returned! Pray for her continued recovery and for the cleft palate repair she will need when she gets a bit older. Often these babies are very malnourished because it is nearly impossible for them to create seal in their mouth in order to suck. Thersia, however, is the picture of health... a testament to the good care provided by her young mama!

Emmanoel.

This dear boy. Read his full story here. Emmanoel was the very first patient I saw. We were driving up to the screening site on 'Patient Selection Day' and from the back of the Land Rover my inner nurse radar went off. I saw a mother holding a little boy at the side gate, and this boy was using every part of his body that you shouldn't need to use to breathe. In the medical world we call this 'retractions', and even from a distance I could see all the signs of severe respiratory distress. His eyes were tired, his body limp, he was barely conscious. Before I could even attempt to get out of the vehicle, I saw our pediatric anesthesiologist and another pediatric nurse rushing toward him. I prayed, knew he was in capable hands, and didn't see him again for the remainder of the hectic screening day. Late that night I asked about him, afraid of the answer I might be given. I was overjoyed when I found out he was still with us and that his respiratory distress was caused by an operable! tumor which was nearly occluding his entire airway. His was one of the first surgeries scheduled, and even then I was praying we weren't waiting too long... we all were. I don't think many of us slept well his final night before surgery. Emmanoel certainly didn't, having to work so hard for every breath-- it was one of the most heart-wrenching things I have witnessed. I hate to think what might have happened had we found him even a week later. Thanks to an exceptional team in the OR, his surgery went very well, and he didn't need a tracheostomy! 

Meeting of the minds: Dr. Mark Shrime, Dr. Gary Parker, & Dr. David Levy

I received Emmanoel postoperatively and, after a brief 'set-back' requiring intubation and mechanical ventilation for just under 2 days, he went on to have an incredible and full recovery. Huge thanks to everyone back home who prayed for him during that time! :)

Just look at these pictures of him from his most recent outpatient visit. So amazing to see him smiling and playing as an almost-3-year-old should! God is surely with you, Emmanoel!

*******

To say "Nice to meet you" in French, you say "Enchanté", which literally means enchanted. I love that! I have been enchanted by these beloved people and by the God who has orchestrated their healing. I share their stories that you may be enchanted as well. 

In another post I will share Gracia's and Ebenezer's stories with you... 

I want to tell you all about the incredibly unique way Dr. Gary (Mercy Ship's maxillo-facial surgeon) does that type of tumor removal, but I need to do a little more research first-- i.e. observe one of his surgeries! :)

*All photos courtesy of the infinitely talented Mercy Ships photographers
**And in case you were wondering (and are aware of the HIPAA regulations in the U.S.), all of the patients I have just introduced you to have signed a release through Mercy Ships allowing their photos and general information about their stories to be shared.