The He[art] of nursing, Africa style

     I have been working a lot this past week (hence the lack of updates!). This is not a complaint at ALL; on the contrary, it has been an awesome opportunity to measure what growth, if any, there has been in my nursing since we've come to live and work on the Africa Mercy. After all, it's been nearly three months, so I'd say it's time to check in :)

     Among other things, I've realized what an impact you can make without your voice. For those of you who have followed our journey, you know I had some reservations at the beginning about communicating with my patients effectively (for a reminder, here is That Blog). I thought that because I couldn't speak with my patients, I couldn't communicate with them. Turns out I was so wrong! This past week there have been so many patients and family members to remind me that love transcends language. Here are just a couple examples:

     In bed D8 sits a beautiful girl named Agnes. She is fifteen years old and every bit a teenager - some days happy and interactive, some days sullen and tearful. And she is amazing. Last week she had a surgical procedure to repair her cleft palate (the roof of her mouth, which had been open to her nasal passages). She has been receiving nutrition via a naso-gastric tube ever since. But what has been so amazing has been the relationship we have developed. After our first day together, we were buddies. We have laughed, cried, and even painted "Agnes loves Emily" and "Emily loves Agnes" signs for one another. Mine hangs above her bed and hers is pinned to my cabin wall, reminding me of the responsibility and privilege it is to genuinely care for each patient I am assigned.

     In D11 is the most adorable baby I've ever seen (I'm sure I've said that way too often, lol, but it's always true!). Her name is Batouli. She is three months old, has the most beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes, and had a teeny cleft lip repair a couple days ago. I was told in report that her mama seemed somewhat distant and disinterested in baby before surgery. So I decided to spend the shift doing a love experiment. Every time I passed them, I loved on that baby; tickling her little toes, blowing her kisses, cooing and making faces like a doofus. Each time I would also compliment mama, telling her how beautiful her baby is, what a good job she is doing (all in English, no translation). And you know what? Mama began to smile. Mama began to hold baby again. Mama came back. Maybe it was fear of the surgery or of this place, but it has passed. Now I catch her cooing baby on her own. And when I come by, we make silly baby noises at Batouli together.

     In D15, there is a 5 year old patient who is about the cutest, most well-behaved little boy you could ask for. He takes his medicine without a fuss, he plays kindly and picks up after himself - he is a dear. But behind every good boy is a great mama, and his is great. She can't be any older than I am, and she is absolutely beautiful - warm-hearted, always smiling, and genuinely loving toward her son. And for some reason, we have clicked. She greets me with a hand-shake and finger-snap every day, and she has nothing but smiles for me anytime I even glance her way. The other day we sat next to each other for a few moments in the middle of the ward: two young women perched on stools watching a Disney movie, saying nothing, holding hands. With that simple gesture she told me that she trusts me, and there are no words for the weight of that.

     I suppose what I'm saying is that I feel free to love my patients well here. Despite the limited resources and the crowded wards and the paper charting, I can be the nurse I want to be - one who cares for the heart as well as the body. Where I come from, none of the above examples would be considered "vital nursing". There is no quantifiable benefit for affection, no evidence-based practice for caring. And that's because there IS no way to quantify Love or Compassion, no way to value the effect of ministering to someone's Spirit. But I truly believe that our acts of love will echo through Eternity - which makes them priceless.