Tuesday, November 27, 2012

November Max-Fax Stories

     As we wrap up another month here on the Africa Mercy, I am overwhelmed by all of the amazing patients who have come and gone. I wish you could be a fly (or something less contaminating) on the wall of D Ward so that you could see their transformations. Daily I am reminded of the parade of miracles we get to witness, which makes the occasional hard times worth it. Here are a few that stood out for me...

     If I'm honest, I've had a couple favorite gals :) One of them I shall call Toulie, a girl no older than myself admitted with a large jaw tumor. I had the privilege of caring for Toulie after her hemi-mandibulectomy. This is a procedure that involves removing half of one's jawbone, as well as the teeth connected to that bone. Since the mouth has suddenly been turned into a raw battlefield of healing, a Naso-gastric tube is required for nutrition over the first week of recovery. There is also a drain out the bottom of your jaw, a large incision down the front of the chin and an enormous gauze head wrap involved. This is your typical hemi-mand, and this was Toulie's case. 


     But what stood out about her is that from post-op Day One, she greeted me with a grin. And every day after. If it weren't for the gauze, suture lines and multiple tubes inserted in her, you wouldn't have been able to tell she had just had extensive facial surgery. She never so much as grimaced, let alone shed a tear over the pain she likely felt. By the middle of the month, she no longer had a drain or NG tube and was eating soft foods, so she was cleared to discharge to the Hope Center! On her final day, I got to teach her to apply her pressure dressing, holding the mirror while she practiced putting it on and taking it off. She hugged me and left with a grin on her face. And when I visited her at the Hope Center the next week, she greeted me with an even bigger smile.


     Another endearing couple of gals were Grandma H and Binta, her teenage granddaughter who stayed as her caregiver and translator. Sometimes we don't have Pular-speaking day workers, so generally my words would be translated to French for the granddaughter and then she would translate into Pular for her grandmother. It was this game of telephone that my patient assessment info and teaching had to go through. The first day I took care of Grandma H, both she and Binta were kind but quiet, just smiling and staying to themselves.


     By the next day, they were suddenly my buddies! Anytime I came to talk with Grandma H, she wrapped my hand warmly in hers. And Binta turned out to be quite the teenage linguist. She showed me her coloring book, which was actually functioning as a notebook; it was full of words and phrases she'd been collecting. With her small English she began animatedly explaining them to me, writing out new words for me in French and Pular. She asked about my family, so I pulled up Facebook on our ward computer and showed her my mom, dad and sister, whom she said were all "so beautiful". It was such an epiphany moment, like this unseen gap was bridged - I became a girl just like her, with a family that I too loved. 


     This next young woman completely stole our hearts! I will call her 'B', and she took over our ward like a storm. 'B' had a large intra-oral tumor removed, which required her to have a tracheostomy in order to breathe and receive nutrition via a nasogastric feeding tube for several days. But though the trach made her speechless, you could literally hear her through her body language. And she was hilarious! At any opportunity, she was literally up and dancing, tubes and all. The joy and life that she radiated were absolutely contagious! (I'll tell you more about her in my next post, she's amazing)


     I'd like to finish with one of the most well known and prayed for patients on the ward. Here he will go by 'T', and he spent over a month with us. He is one of the faces I vividly remember from Screening Day. Even then, before I knew anything about him, his gaze wrung my heart. He sat there with a handkerchief draped around his head, partially concealing the enormous tumor that had taken over the right side of his face. What you cannot see is how the tumor has stretched his lip and emerged through his mouth, hanging about five inches below where his chin would be. 


     Anyway, 'T' came to us in October for pre-op care. He was extremely malnourished, only able to consume liquids plunged into his throat via syringe. From the beginning our surgeon explained to him the very risky road ahead. Before he could even have surgery, he would need to get stronger. So a gastric feeding tube would be placed to his stomach in order to give him appropriate nutrition. And because his airway might very soon be compromised, he would need a trach inserted in his neck.


     Long story short, T accepted the odds and lived on the wards for three weeks before any incision was made. As he began to build his strength, his tumor began to grow exponentially, now receiving all the nutrition it had been lacking. But he pressed on. And when the day for surgery came, we all prayed, day and night. The waiting was tense, as though everyone was holding their breath. This was the first time I questioned whether a patient would make it or not...


     But he DID come through, in the most remarkable way. Not only did the surgeon remove all of the tumor, but he was able to save T's right eye. 'T' spent one night in the ICU and the next day was on the ward again, back in his old spot. It was as though God took all of our worry and fret and just turned it on its head, saying 'See? I told you I had this.' Soon his trach was out, and shortly after that he began to use his new mouth to eat. Last week he was cleared to go to the Hope Center, this man that I thought would surely be in the hospital through Christmas. His recovery is unprecedented. The only word I can think to describe it is miraculous.


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