The big day

They came in the darkness of the night, one by one, hurting, hoping, wondering if this would be the end to their pain. Each one came with their different burdens, but they all came with hope. Our group arrived at the screening site at dawn, unaware that this would be the biggest screening day in Mercy Ships' history. As I looked down the street, I saw thousands of people lined up, waiting in expectation. I was overwhelmed by the need, then thought of Jesus and his disciples who had thousands upon thousands of people come to them with their hurts and needs. I knew Mercy Ships wouldn't be able to help every one of these precious people, but I knew that Jesus could. He knew each of them by name, all their hurts and all their dreams, and somehow He would work in their lives on this special day. 

On past screening days, I have worked in medical screening or registration, but today I had decided that I wanted to work in the prayer room. Yes, I'm a nurse, but I'm also a child of God and I have seen the power of prayer. I felt like that was where God wanted me...at least to start off the day. So we entered the prayer room and one by one, people came to us for prayer. Some were patients who had been told that we couldn't do surgery. Others were patients who had already received their surgery date and wanted to pray for their upcoming hospital stay. But they all came to the One who was greater than all their problems and pain. 

All of us on the prayer team had been placed with a translator. The only problem was that my translator was from the housekeeping department and my French was better than his English (which isn't saying too much). During the first few hours that we were praying, we had one woman come in with arthritis pain in her arms and knees. After we prayed for her, she had a big smile on her face and kept saying "guéri, guéri."  I couldn't remember what the word meant, but I know I had heard it before. Thankfully I had brought along my English/French dictionary, so I looked it up. Healed! That is what it meant! The woman was still smiling and I looked at her again and asked "Tu est guéri?" (Are you healed) to which she responded "Oui!" I gave her a hug and said goodbye, thankful that God had done a miracle in this woman's life. In some ways, I felt like I was in Zambia all over again, seeing God's healing through the laying of hands.  My faith was strengthened and my spirit was encouraged. 

Throughout the morning, a few other people came in with aches and pains throughout the morning: back pain, arm pain, abdominal pain, you name it. We saw several people get healed, leaving pain free with smiles on their faces. They may have been disappointed at first that Mercy Ships couldn't help them, but they left knowing that Jesus was the ultimate healer! After seeing a few different people get healed, my translator looked at me and said "Can you pray for ME?" I smiled, touched by the way God was using this experience to grow this man's faith. I asked him what he wanted prayer for and realized it was something he felt uncomfortable sharing. So I said a prayer for him anyway and then carried on with the other patients who were waiting.

It was encouraging to see that I was not the only one who experienced the healing power of God on screening day. My friend Jess is an amazing woman of faith and I knew that she would be praying with expectation to see God work. At one point, I heard lots of laughter and cheering coming from her side of the room. I came over to see what had happened and an old woman was sitting in front of them with a big smile on her face. She had come in with one side of her face completely droopy, barely able to open her one eye. After she received prayer, her face was completely normal again and both of her eyes were wide open (I wish I could show you a photo of the lady who was healed, but the media team wasn't around and we weren't allowed to take our own photos)!

I have to admit that I wasn't really sure how the prayer ministry would go, as I know that it can be overwhelming emotionally to see all the needs and hurts of so many people and watch them go feeling disappointed and defeated. I wish I could say that every single person who entered the prayer room got healed. Unfortunately, that was not the case. I would've really liked to see a crippled man put down his crutches and run around like the lame man in Acts 3. But, I know that God is sovereign and good and I am thankful that I was able to show love to the people who crossed my path, even those who didn't get healed. 

After a great morning in the prayer room, things started to slow down a bit, so I had lunch and decided to walk around with my friend Amy to pray for the site. When we walked out the front gates to the street, I was in total shock. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon and there were still thousands of people waiting in line! Normally, screening is finished by about 4 or 5pm, so I didn't know how we would get all these people through the line before dark! 

I found my friend Nate, who was one of the main people in charge of the screening process and asked if he wanted me to start screening the line. He told me that would be helpful, so I took one of our better translators named Bodry and set out down the line. 

The purpose of the line screening is basically to cut down the line to people who actually need to be there. Knowing the criteria for surgery and which surgeries we actually do, I was able to tell people whether or not we would be able to help them. If it was questionable, I would just tell them to stay and wait to find out. The hard thing about screening the line is that you have to break the bad news to a lot of people. "I'm sorry sir, but we don't do back surgery" or "we only have an orthopedic surgeon for children right now, so I'm sorry but we can't help you." It is pretty heart-wrenching to dash someone's hopes, especially when you know there's not a whole lot of options in their country. But, we always try to show love in everything we do with Mercy Ships, even if it's breaking some bad news. 

Another friend joined in the line-screening, so we were able to finish the screening within a couple of hours. The line was still fairly long, but we had done all we could outside, so I asked our screening coordinator what else they needed and got sent to help in Registration. Bodry came along with me as my trusty side-kick and we got to work again. 

The people kept coming through registration, one after another. It started to get dark a couple hours later, so we all had to get out flashlights and finish our work. Many of the patients didn't make it through history and physical, so they were given appointments to come to the ship within the following weeks for overflow screening. Out of the 7,354 people who lined up on Screening day, only 4,236 actually came through the gates. All the rest of those people were turned away before they made it in. Some had inoperable conditions and others simply needed treatment that we do not offer. It's always hard to break bad news and feel like you've just dashed the hopes of hurting people who are so desperate for help. But, I've always been told to focus on the ones that we can help. No matter how hard we try, we can't fix all of Africa at one time...but we can make a difference one life at at a time!

One special taxi driver

It was a calm Sunday afternoon and I headed out with a group of friends to a little place on the beach to relax and have some girl time. As we got into our taxi, the driver recognized that we were from Mercy Ships and began asking questions. He had a little boy named Murphy that couldn't walk and he wanted to know if we could help him. His eyes were filled with hope as he promised to bring his son with him when he came back to pick us up later that afternoon. 

A few hours later, Mac (our driver) came back as he had promised with not only his son, but his whole family. I took one look at the little boy and felt a lump in my throat. Murphy was four years old and appeared to have cerebral palsy, not an orthopedic problem. He was not even able to speak. In my broken French, I explained to his daddy that we would not be able to help. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes, but a glimpse of hope still remained. "What about in your country? Can they do surgery in America?" Mac did not understand the implications of the little boy's condition. I explained to him a little bit more about his son's condition and that it wasn't something that could be reversed. My words seemed to hit him like a punch in the gut. "So he's going to grow up like this," he asked. I told him about therapies that might be able to help his son, but tried to give him a realistic idea of what his son would be like. He was completely gutted. I asked if we could pray for his son and said a prayer for Murphy and his family, knowing that Jesus was the only one who could give them true comfort in that moment.

The drive back to the ship was a quiet one. From time to time, Mac would let out a deep sigh. I knew he was still processing the heaviness of my words. I did not come to the beach expecting to shatter the dreams of a hopeful father. I told him how sorry I was and that I wish I could help him. He attempted a weak smile, dropped us off at the port, and drove away. 

I think I can now relate with the doctors and how they feel when they have to break the bad news to parents in the hospital about a disorder that their child has. It wasn't just that we couldn't do surgery for Mac's child or that I had no medicine to give, but that his son had a condition that would affect him for the rest of his life. Mac thought he could just get surgery and be ok...there was still some hope remaining. But with a few words from my mouth, that hope disappeared. 

I came back to the ship with a heavy heart. I said another prayer for the daddy who loved his little boy and just wanted to give him a better life. I thought of all the patients that we would see on the screening day and the thousands of other parents who would carry their little one to us in hopes of medical help. I thought of all the people we would have to turn away because they needed a different type of surgery than the specialties that we offer or the patients who had conditions that were inoperable. Jesus, please be their hope. 

Tomorrow is screening day. We are expecting thousands of people to come. For some, it will be a joyful celebration because they will leave with their patient card and surgery date. For others, it will be a heart-wrenching, disappointing day. But I know that Jesus cares for each one who will be there and I pray that His love would be poured out through us in it all. 

From doctors to deckies

One of the great things about working with Mercy Ships is that during each sail, the nurses get to work in different departments outside of the hospital. I have alternated between the dining room, galley, sales, and housekeeping on my previous seven sails. It is always great to learn more about other departments and get to know the people who work there. With each new position, i have gained an increased appreciation for the work that each department does. During this last sail, I had a unique opportunity to do something I have wanted to do for a long time...I got to work in the Deck department! So I left working with doctors and nurses to go work with the deckies. I traded in my scrubs for coveralls, set down my stethoscope and picked up a pair of earplugs, exchanged my crocs for steel-toed boots and got to work. 

It's always a little bit intimidating to start working in a new job..especially when you're surrounded by a bunch of tough guys who aren't sure that they want to hand you a needle gun or paint brush before seeing that you can prove yourself. But thankfully it didn't take too long to earn their respect and I got to know some really awesome people in the meantime. I was also really grateful that my friend Romina, who is also a nurse had already transferred to deck and could show me the ropes. 

Enjoying some outdoor painting in the middle of the ocean

Although I only got to work on deck for the two weeks that we were sailing, it was a really awesome experience and I learned a lot! The guys did a great job including me and helping me feel like I was a part of the team. From letting me participate in the training on how to drop the anchor to helping with the mooring lines to mastering the needle gun, there was always something new and exciting going on. I had a really great time during my shifts on watch at the bridge as well! I served as a lookout and learned the official sailor lingo and got to steer the ship at the helm as well! Occasionally we would spot whales and dolphins during our watch which was a lot of fun! I really enjoyed the guys on my watch and was grateful for their patience and good sense of humor. 

Working on the bridge

I had a very different experience than usual for our arrival in Point Noire. Instead of watching the arrival ceremony on the dock from Deck 7, I was operating the wench for the aft mooring lines and helping to secure the ship as we came into port. We could hear the music playing as we pulled into the port and could sense the excitement of the Congolese people. We had finally arrived! 

After all the mooring lines were secured, I headed down to the dock with a couple of the guys to drop in our Yokohama fenders (the huge tire-looking thing that goes in the water between the ship and dock to keep us from bumping into the side of the dock and scraping off all our paint). The ship had been bumping into the side of the dock from the time we arrived, causing some uncomfortable bumps, so we knew everyone would be much happier once they were in. After dropping each Yokohama down with the crane, we pushed them into the water and pulled them along with a thick steel wire...Let me just stop here and say that this was where having muscles came in handy. Up until this point, the guys had told me I didn't need to prove myself and show how strong I was. My Ukranian friend Victor would tell me "Becca, women don't need to be strong...only beautiful." But this was the one time that I really needed to be strong . So after pushing the Yokohamas into the water, we pulled the steel wire with all the strength that we had and managed to get each one to the correct position. It sort of felt like a big game of tug-of-war and even though it was very exhausting, I really enjoyed it. I think the crew were especially thankful once we got them in place too because the ship was no longer bumping into the side of the dock.

I have to admit that arrival day was much more exhausting than usual for me this time, but I was really grateful to have played a part in the work that took place on deck. By the end of the day, we were all tired and ready for the weekend, but a part of me was sad knowing that it was my last day in the Deck department. The following week, the Deck department had a special ice cream party to honor the nurses who had come to work on deck during the time the hospital was closed (myself and two other girls). We were left with many kind words from the deckies and officers who told us that we had proved to be more than just nurses. The Deck department now has a special place in my heart and I can honestly say it was the best reassignment I have ever had! 

Me & my Ukranian friends from Deck
Left to right: Big Sergei, Georgy, Victor, Genna, & little Sergei