From Death to Life

The first time I saw him, I was completely shocked at how thin and frail his body was: literally skin and bones. I had never seen anyone so emaciated in my entire life. But it wasn't just how thin he was that struck me, but the lack of life or motivation to live. 14-year old Selim would lie in his bed and moan, lacking the strength to even lift his head. He would point to his IV, requesting morphine for his pain and I could see that he was trying to escape the pain and perhaps even become numb to life around him. With each moan, it was like he was begging to die. At 14-years of age and nearly 5 feet tall, he had fallen to a mere 48 pounds. His mother sat beside his bed, but rarely touched him. It was as though she was afraid to engage because it was too painful for her heart, knowing he was dying. 

It seemed like a matter of days until Selim would pass. He had come to the hospital from the refugee camp for a bladder stone, but after he was taken to surgery, it became apparent that there were multiple other problems and that he would not have a simple recovery. He had been in the hospital for several weeks when I arrived and his condition had continued to deteriorate. My heart broke for this boy, but the whole situation seemed so hopeless. The surgeons had placed a feeding tube due to his weight loss and inability to eat after his initial surgery, but in spite of great surgeons and tedious nursing care, it seemed like he was at a standstill...he just wasn't improving and it appeared that he didn't want to. I looked in his eyes and saw pain and hopelessness and it broke my heart. I did my best to make him comfortable, take care of his pain and nausea, and show him that he was loved. For five days straight, I watched his suffering and prayed that he would turn a corner. 

Then one day, the missionary surgeon who was caring for Selim told me a story of hope. He had cared for a patient several months before who everyone thought was going to die. "No one thought he would walk out of this place alive, but he did...and proved to be a miracle." He said it with a glimmer in his eye and I knew that after years of working in this place, he wasn't ready to give up on Selim yet either. His story gave me hope that Selim would one day walk out of that same hospital, proving to be a miracle. That day, I sent out text messages and requests on social media for prayers for Selim. I couldn't give up on him yet and I would rally an army of spiritual warriors who fight for him in prayer. 

The next day, Selim seemed to be feeling a bit better and my heart lightened a bit knowing that God was working in him. That afternoon, the social worker came by to see patients and spent some time talking to Selim. While they were talking, Selim asked about Jesus and she was able to share the gospel with him. The next thing I knew, I was carrying a medication over to Selim and realized they were getting ready to pray. I wasn't sure what was being said because it was all in Rohingya, but Selim was sitting on the edge of his bed with his hands lifted up, eyes shut tight and praying intently. I joined the prayer in my heart and could see that something had changed when we finished. I asked the social worker what they were praying for and she said "Selim asked me about Jesus, so I shared with him and he just prayed to receive Jesus in his life!" I was so happy to hear the news and thought back to all the prayers that had gone up for this boy's life the day before. Jesus had heard those prayers and now Selim was one of his own! I imagined the celebration that was going on in heaven...there was certainly some celebrating in my own heart!

The rest of the afternoon, that hollow depressed look in Selim's eyes disappeared and was replaced by an interest in life and a sense of hope. He was finally engaging with us and expressing a desire to live! Several hours later, I brought over the milk for Selim's feeding tube. He started pointing and saying something to me in Rohingya, so I brought over a translator. "He doesn't want to eat through his tube anymore. He wants to eat normally," he told me. I could hardly believe my ears...Selim hadn't eaten anything by mouth in weeks. He really was turning a corner and I could see the answers to my prayers unfolding before my eyes. We gave Selim something light to eat and he kept it down!

Over the next few days, Selim continued to improve. He asked for his foley catheter to be taken out and continued to take steps in the right direction. Within another week, he was asking to stand and try to walk. He was still weak and needed a walker to help him, but he was determined and with each milestone, he would flex his muscles and give me a smile. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy who I could barely talk to a week before, with a hollow stare, a pained expression and no interest in life. Every time I looked at him, I was amazed. But why should I be shocked, I thought to myself. Jesus had stepped into Selim's heart and now that new life spilled out of him. His smile was contagious and the newfound joy he had discovered in such a dark place could only come from the Author of life himself, Jesus Christ. 

Finally getting some fresh air

As Selim continued to gain weight and get stronger, I found that I could hardly keep up with enough food to give him. He was like a typical teenage boy, ravenous for food every couple of hours. I found myself visiting our "canteen" multiple times throughout the day buying milk, peanuts, ice cream, chips, bananas or whatever snacks Selim was in the mood for that day. I didn't want to deny him anything he wanted to eat because I wanted him to get back to a healthy weight as quickly as possible. I occasionally got funny looks from the workers at the canteen and I couldn't help but think that they were judging me and wondering how I could possibly eat so much! I would tell them in my broken Bangla that it wasn't for me and they would just nod with a doubtful look and I would just laugh. I didn't care if they judged me as long as Selim gained weight! One day, Selim asked for cow liver for breakfast. I would normally try to talk someone out of that type of request, but it was my sweet Selim and I knew it was better for him than a lot of the other things he asked me to buy him. So I sent one of our ward clerks across the street to the market to buy it for him. 

My days with Selim were so precious and over our time together, we formed a very sweet bond. Every time he reached his arms out and said "Auntie Becca!" with a big smile across his face, my heart melted. I loved this boy as my own nephew and I was so grateful that God had brought him into my life. But I knew that I would soon be moving over to the diphtheria clinic nearly two hours away and I wondered how Selim would handle it. The morning for me to leave came and I could hardly look at Selim. I gave hugs to everyone else, but saved him for last. Finally, Selim motioned me over to his bed and asked what was wrong. He could see the tears welling up in my eyes and I told him that I had been asked to help at the diphtheria clinic in the refugee camp for the next three weeks and that I might not see him again. Selim reached up his arms to embrace me and gave me a long hug as the tears rolled down both of our cheeks. I didn't want to say goodbye. It seemed too soon. I wanted to see him healthy and strong and walking out of the hospital like the other child I had been told about.  I reminded Selim that I would continue to pray for him every day and check in with my friends there to make sure he was getting stronger. But, from a distance, I couldn't bring Selim his favorite foods or encourage him to walk or take his medicine. I realized in that moment that I  had to release control and give him to God. I knew that Selim was safe in the hands of my Father and that he would complete the good work He had started in Selim's life.

Throughout the next week, I got reports that Selim was continuing to eat and get stronger. His central line had been removed and his wounds had healed up nicely. Now he was going to physical therapy every day to regain his strength. I was encouraged with the updates on his progress, but I was hopeful I would get to visit him and my other friends one more time. My schedule opened up at the clinic and after a long stretch of shifts, I was given two days off. Thankfully, the transportation arrangements all worked out and I headed back to the hospital to see my dear friends and my sweet Selim. 

No one told Selim I was coming back for a visit because we all wanted to surprise him. I walked into the ward and saw him smiling at me from across the room. But the second I reached out to hug him, he began to cry and wouldn't let go of me. He couldn't believe I had come back! And I couldn't believe how good he looked! His cheeks had plumped up and he looked so much healthier and stronger than when I had left. In the ten days I was gone, he had gained just over eight pounds! After our sweet reunion, Selim wouldn't let me leave his side. He asked me to take him down for his physical therapy and when we got there, he said "You stay right there!" He didn't want me leaving again. While I was only back for two short days, we had a very sweet time together having tea and snacks at the canteen, going for "walks" with me pushing his wheelchair, watching silly movies and sharing lots of hugs and smiles. 

Selim during physical therapy

Tea and treats with Auntie Becca

While it was sad to leave Selim the second time, it was much sweeter being given that gift of a reunion that neither one of us ever knew we would have. And as the weeks went by, Selim continued to gain weight and get stronger. Soon, he was walking on his own and ready to go home. And Selim walked out of there just like the other little boy that no one thought would survive. The skeleton of a boy who wanted to die got his life back when he gave his life to Jesus. And he walked out healthy and strong because we have a great and amazing God who answers prayers and shows his love and power through little boys like Selim. I pray that Selim will always remember that he was brought from death to life both spiritually and physically and that he will point others to Christ so that they can experience the same. 

Slapped with reality

Spoiled. Rotten. If I had to pick two words to describe how I felt about myself over the last few weeks in Africa, those would be the words. It's not because I'm high maintenance or demanding (at least I don't think I am most days). But when you get a smack in the face of the realities of poverty, you start to see the extremes of just how much we really have in America.

The past few weeks have been amazing. I have been able to make an impact on so many kids' lives in Malawi and then travel to Zambia to bring hope to many people who have never heard of Jesus. It has been incredible and overwhelming at the same time. 

The mission in Malawi was the first medical mission where I was outnumbered by the locals. It was so fun to be the only white person working on night shift...but it was also eye-opening. I heard the stories not only of the patients and their families, but also of the nurses working with me. 

Two of the nurses I worked with on the mission

Malawi is one of the poorest nations in Africa and the poverty hit me square between the eyes. Many of the children were dressed in clothes that were dirty and torn, the mothers didn't know how to use a disposable diaper b/c they had never used (or possibly seen) a diaper in their lives (they just tied cloths on them and would air them out when they got wet). The hospital was so poor and run down that they had to borrow several OR tables for surgeries from another hospital before we came because they only had two that weren't broken. I would see bugs in the ward on a regular basis and even saw a stray cat run through the ward one night. Another night, the hospital lost power and we had to work in the dark with our headlamps until the electrician could come and fix it. 

Got to spend time with lots of cute babies

The local nurses told me that it was not uncommon for the medical wards to have patients die on a regular basis because of the limitations of their hospital. It was probably the poorest hospital I've ever worked in. But at the same time, the patients and families were so happy with the surgeries. There were so many smiles and "thank-you's." I don't think I ever heard a patient or family complain about the conditions there. We tried to make it nice in the post-op ward, but it was still definitely sub-par by American standards. I can imagine the comments I would hear from my American patients if I put them in a room with 25 other patients with no air conditioning and bugs all over the place....or gave them a mattress and told them they basically had to sleep on the floor. I don't think that would go over so well.

Part of the "Thank You" ceremony the patients' families did for us

After that reality check in Malawi, I headed over to Zambia. I was working with local pastors in rural villages at least 100 km from the nearest hospital. I heard stories of children dying because their parents couldn't afford the malaria medicine which costs about $5. Another person told me that sometimes kids will be sick for a long time and even die because their families cannot afford to pay for transportation to the hospital (approximately $20 round trip). 

It all hit me the hardest the day I met Cami. We were doing home visits in the village and I noticed there was a little girl laying down inside one hut, only looking up occasionally. Finally her mom brought her out to us. The little girl was 7-years old, but very thin and weak. Her mom lifted up Cami's shirt so we could see how emaciated she was. You could see every single one of her ribs. Every bone in her body was prominent. She was literally skin and bones. Her mom set her down near us and the flies covered her face. She looked so weak and miserable. Suffering was written all over her face. But she wasn't this thin for lack of food. Her 3-year old brother was chubby and healthy. Her mom brought out Cami's medical record booklet, which showed she was born at a normal weight. She was right where she needed to be on the growth chart until somewhere between one and two years of age. Then her weight went significantly the opposite direction. Her mom told us she had started to have problems swallowing, along with intermittent vomiting. They had taken her to a local clinic a few times, but they couldn't figure out what was wrong. Her mother told us that they had wanted to take her to the big hospital, but they couldn't afford it. The medical care in Zambia is covered by the government, so all they needed to pay was transportation. But they didn't have $20. I sat there looking at Cami as her mom told us her story and I couldn't keep the tears from flowing. Things would never have gotten to this point in the States. I started thinking of IV nutrition, medical tests and all the things we could do for Cami if she was back in the U.S. It just wasn't fair. Here she was suffering and her mom had pretty much given up and accepted things the way they were. But it absolutely wasn't ok. No child should ever have to suffer like that. 

My first day meeting Cami

We asked if we could pray for Cami and her mom agreed and set her next to me. Cami was so weak that she just laid her head on my lap because it took too much energy to lift it. We laid hands on her and prayed for healing from the swallowing issues she was having. After we prayed, I had Cami sit up so I could try to give her some food. First her mom brought porridge. She ate it slowly, but got it down. Then I made her a vitamin drink with some dissolvable tablets that I had in my backpack. Gradually we moved from that to raisins, then small pieces of nuts that I had broken up for her. She was able to eat the food and she started perking up a little bit as I fed her. 

That night, her mom brought her to watch the Jesus Film at our camp. Afterwards, we asked if anyone wanted prayer. Cami's mom came up among several others and told us that Cami was doing better. She had eaten fish and shima (a local staple) after we prayed for her. It was the first time in a long time that she had been able to tolerate solid food. I came over to Cami to pray for her and laid my hand on her head. At that moment, she looked up at me with those big brown eyes. She looked into my eyes for a long time, then reached for my other hand and wrapped her little fingers around one of my fingers, just like a small baby would do. It was such a sweet moment. I could sense that she felt the love I had for her and prayed that she sensed God's love for her as well. 

The next day we arranged for Cami to go to the local hospital. I didn't see Cami again after that, but my friends at Trail Missions updated me the next week on how she was doing. Cami stayed in the hospital for almost a week and when she came home, they were able to bring her food and supplements to help her to gain weight with the money I had left with them. They have promised to keep me updated on her condition when they go back to visit her village.

It's so humbling to see children that are suffering like Cami and to hear stories of her and many others who can't afford a few dollars to pay to go to the hospital when their health or even their lives are in danger. We easily drop $20 or more on a dinner out or a night at the movies and don't give it a second thought. I recently heard a statistic that anyone who owns their own laptop is in the top 1% richest people in the world. Wow! I never really considered myself rich. I grew up in a middle class home. We always had enough, but we didn't necessarily always have the frills and fancy things like other kids. 

It's so easy to want more when you don't realize how much you've actually been given. But the truth is, compared to the rest of the world, most of us are filthy rich. I don't say that to make you feel guilty, but to make you stop and think. God said he had blessed Abraham so that he could be a blessing to others. I believe the same is true for us. We're not just blessed so we can hoard it and keep it for ourselves, but so we can bless others. We all know the saying that it's more blessed to give than to receive. That phrase may be a little cliché, but it is absolutely true. Our American culture is so self-centered. We are constantly taking selfies, absorbed in our own lives, plans, Facebook statuses, and finances that we rarely stop to see the needs around us. We get so caught up in the trivial things that we miss the many opportunities that God puts in front of us to sow into His Kingdom and make a lasting impact. The need may not be as obvious as an emaciated child who can't afford a ride to the hospital, but the need is still there if we take the time to look for it. 

My pastor recently said "In every room you walk into, there is some sort of need." It could be a need for a listening ear, a word of encouragement, a need for a friend, or some kind of material or financial need. But the need is there. We just have to get our eyes off ourselves long enough to see it. So who does God want you to bless today? Wherever you're at in your life, will you stop looking at the things you DON'T have and start looking at what you DO have and how you can use it to bless others? Chances are you're in that 1% of the population that has far more than you ever realized. 

Back to Africa

It has been awhile now since I left Africa...sometimes the memories seem so distant, but the people there are still so special to me and there is still a deep place in my heart that gets excited anytime I am reminded of that beautiful continent. And although I left the ship almost 3 years ago, the memory of the ship didn't leave me and often still comes up in everyday conversations and occasionally even in my dreams. So I had really hoped to be able to go back to visit the ship while it was docked in Madagascar. I had been working on Operation Smile missions for about a year and had heard that there was a mission to Antananarivo, Madagascar in April. I applied for the trip and waited....and waited. I knew the odds of getting on such a highly sought after trip were not very high for me since I was new to OpSmile and didn't have too many missions under my belt. But still I hoped...and prayed.


Then, through a series of God-ordained events, one of my leaders on another mission earlier this year "just happened" to mention to me that she had been contacted about a need for another nurse to Madagascar. I told her I had been trying to get on the mission and she put in a good recommendation for me. Within a few days, I had an email in my inbox inviting me to join the team. I could hardly believe it! This was really going to happen!


To add to the "coincidence," I found out that my friend Jaime was going to be working nights on the mission with me. We were both staying beyond the mission and decided we would travel together for a bit after the mission ended.


Antananarivo or "Tana" as it is more commonly called was not a disappointing place to end up. The people were definitely different than the Africans I had come to know so well in West Africa. I quickly came to learn that there was both Asian and African influence in Madagascar and the people looked and seemed to be a combination of the two...not quite as loud and friendly as the West Africans, but still very warm and kind-hearted. Many of them spoke French and I was excited to practice my broken French for the first time in a long time. Thankfully, there was always at least one person who understood French (or should I say MY French) who was able to translate into Malagasi to the other Mama's in the room.


In spite of the fact that I had only done three missions prior to Tana, I was designated the "nurse in charge" on night shift. Apparently, I have that "natural leader" trait, so I didn't have a choice. I enjoyed being able to help out the others as much as possible. Our local nurses were also wonderful and I had the opportunity of getting to know them well.

Our local nurse "Malala" and I with one of our patients before surgery

The mission went smoothly and in spite of moments of children crying and everyone needing their pain meds all at once, it was beautiful to be back in Africa, taking care of these wonderful people who were so grateful for the surgeries we were able to do for their little ones. There were too many cute kids to count and in spite of occasionally making the kiddos cry when I forced their medicine down them, I still ended the mission with a bunch of new friends (even some of the kids who decided to forgive me...it's amazing how much forgiveness hugs, bubbles, and toys can bring)!

We had so many wonderful patients with their own stories of hope. But one of my favorites was a father and his son who had their cleft lips fixed the same week. The Dad recalled that he had been sad about his cleft lip his whole life, but that when his son was born, he realized there was a purpose. Now his son wouldn't feel alone! He would be able to relate and empathize with his son. And now, so many years later, they were both having surgery. It was so special.


The mission came to an end before we knew it and Jaime and I headed out to the rainforest. What we didn't know was that our late departure from Tana and lack of planning was not the best combo for traveling out to the Volcana Lodge. Thankfully, though, we had God on our side and He definitely paved the way for us.

As the two of us boarded a bus full of people heading the direction we wanted to go, we got cozy as we realized we would have to put aside the term "personal space" for the duration of the trip. Thankfully, Jaime and I have both been in these situations before, so it wasn't a big deal for either of us. About 5 minutes after driving down the road, the bus stopped to pick up more people. We saw a guy get on who was wearing one of our "Operation Smile Madagascar" t-shirts. We said hi and realized he was one of the local surgeons from the team. And we were VERY grateful to have someone on the bus to tell us where to get off because we didn't really know what we were doing.

A couple hours later, we got to the town where we were supposed to get on the "connecting bus." We hadn't realized when we left town that there would be a time crunch. This was the very last one to go to the town we were headed and there was about one seat left...maybe. Jaime and I squeezed into the back, along with two other guys, who decided it would be easier for them to just stand on the back of the bus and hold on to the back door than to try to find a spot inside. We started off and within the first few minutes, Jaime had a chicken pecking at her foot. We couldn't help but laugh. This situation was not ideal, but it sure was comical...we were the only two white people in this bus that was jam-packed with people and animals and now a chicken was hoping that her toes were something he could eat. Thankfully, the ride on the chicken bus was only about 45 minutes (compared to several hours we had spent on the first, less crowded bus), but it was still long enough for Jaime and I to form a life-long chicken bus, random African experience, BFF connection. When we arrived at our destination, we found out that there were no taxis around. Thankfully, we had made a friend on the bus who happened to work at the hotel we were staying. We were able to get a ride up to the hotel instead of walking several miles up a dirt road that was now covered in mud from the rain (not to mention it was getting dark). So it was the grace of God that we made it in one piece.

The next several days were filled with lots of fun activities, a walk through the rainforest to spot families of lemurs, a "night walk" where we saw lots of chameleons and other fun little animals with our flashlights. We even got to visit a little island that was full of lemurs that we were able to feed. It was so funny having them all crawl around my shoulders and walk on my head. They LOVED the bananas we brought them and reminded me a lot of little monkeys!

Jamie and I with the lemurs

After our fun trip to Volcana Lodge, Jaime and I headed back from our trip and then parted ways, as I started out for Tamatave to see my friends from Mercy Ships. It was very different visiting the ship as a guest instead of being there as a crew member, but I had a lot of fun catching up with old friends, visiting the patients on the ward, and helping out with the kids at the orthopedic rehab center down the road. I also brought some fun things for the kids at the "Hope Center," the facility that Mercy Ships used for patients who needed follow-up, but no longer needed to be hospitalized and had no place to stay in Tamatave. The kids quickly warmed up to me and before long, we were taking tons of selfies and goofy photos. I couldn't help but think to myself "Oh Africa, I have missed you!"

Before I knew it, it was time to leave Tamatave. I had a nice little stop in South Africa on my way home for a safari, as well as a visit to several old friends from Mercy Ships. I came home with a full heart, grateful for the opportunity to see so many dear friends and make many new friends in two amazing African countries. Until next time, Africa...

Guatemala

Throughout my travels, there have been several places that I immediately fell in love with. One of those was Guatemala. I was so excited when I found out that I had the opportunity to go back! I arrived in Guatemala City almost exactly a year to date since my first trip there in October 2015 with Helps International. There is something about Guatemala that really captured my heart. From the warm-hearted people and rich culture to the beautiful lake, volcanoes, and amazing scenery, it's hard to go there and not love it!

This mission was honestly my favorite Operation Smile mission so far. We had an amazing team comprised of lots of internationals, including volunteers from Brazil, Peru, Sweden, Spain, Italy, Australia, Norway, Bolivia, Venezuela, US, Canada and of course Guatemala. We had awesome team leaders and everyone seemed to come together quickly to accomplish a common purpose: to give the best care to the children of Guatemala. 

Screening flowed smoothly and there was even a special program on the stage to entertain the kids during some of the waiting periods. I was able to connect with several of the kids as they came through the vital sign station. The Spiderman and princess tattoos I had brought were very popular with the kids and they all wanted one before they passed on to the next station. There was one little girl in particular named Telma who bonded with me immediately. I was grateful that we finished the vital signs and registration stations a bit early that day because she was waiting and ready to play. She had brought her own little bag with a kid-sized brush and play makeup. 

The kids were happy to show off their princess tattoos

So we set up her "beauty parlor" in the back and I did her hair and makeup. Then it was my turn. Thankfully, another little girl came along before I was completely decked out in hot pink eye shadow and we we were able to switch over to doing her hair. After we finished with our "beauty parlor," the girls started asking me about my stethoscope and I was able to teach them how to listen to their heart and lungs. I decided to take advantage of their curiosity and the teaching moment and taught them how to check their radial and carotid pulses too. Then I pulled out my pulse-oximeter and taught them how to check their pulse and oxygen level with that fun little gadget. The girls were very fascinated and I told them that they should consider being nurses when they grow up! 

Telma and I 

Learning to use a pulseox

Eventually we had to pack up and part ways, but  I received multiple hugs before they finally left. Screening had been a success and I had the chance to play with the kids this time too, which was definitely a bonus! 

We were very blessed to have such a wonderful hospital to work in with some incredible staff! They even converted an extra room into an OR for us the day before surgery! The head nurse, Rosy, was also one of my favorite people. She was so kind and humble and helped us with everything we could possibly think of that we needed in the hospital.

A few friends with Rosy (far right)

Before long, the operating rooms were in full swing and lots of babies and children were getting new lips and palates. I tried to get a bit of extra rest that first day, as I was getting ready to start my stretch of night shifts. In spite of my efforts, I was pretty exhausted after the first night, especially since the other night shift volunteer was from Peru, so there was only Spanish-speaking. Needless to say, my rusty Spanish improved very quickly. 

My night nurse buddy Ana and our pediatrician Alexie

One of the great things about working night shift is that once everyone gets settled, things slow down and there is more time to talk to the patients and families. Generally, most of them are sleeping by this time, but for some reason, we seemed to have at least one child every night that decided to wake up in the middle of the night who wanted to play. It was sweet to watch the mamas attempt to play with the kids in spite of their sleepy eyes and obvious exhaustion. Occasionally, the kids would want to play with the nurses or let us hold them, but mama always had to be in sight or they would cry. So, in this case, there was no rest for the weary when it came to the poor parents. But in spite of their exhaustion, it was evident that the parents had so much joy that their children had been able to receive their surgeries!

In the middle of the night, as different children would wake up ready to play, their parents would bring them out to the hallway and start talking to the nurses. During this time, I had the opportunity to hear some of their individual stories. One in particular touched my heart. It was the story about David Gomez, an adorable 11-month old little boy who was born with cleft lip. His mother, Adela was smiling as she was watching David play with a beautiful smile and a perfect lip. He had just had surgery that day, but his lip was healing so well that you could barely see the incision line. 

As Adela began her story, her eyes filled up with tears and her voice became shaky. "I had seen other babies with cleft lip before David was born, but I never thought it would happen to me. I had three healthy children and then David was born. It was such a shock when we saw that he had a cleft lip. It broke my heart to see him that way. Every time I looked at him, I felt sad. I just wanted my baby to be healthy." Whenever other children would see her baby, they would ask what happened to him. She would try to explain that he was born that way, but couldn't help but feel sad for her baby. 

Adela started to look into options to get David's lip fixed. There was a surgeon in the area, but he wasn't a specialist for cleft lips. Finally, she found a specialist, but it was too expensive and she knew that she couldn't afford it. Then, a medical group came down for a cleft lip mission, so she took a bus to the city where they were holding the mission in hopes of getting help. But when she arrived, she found out that she had been misinformed and the mission had already ended. Feeling hopeless, she returned back to their hometown of San Marcos. 

Then one day, Adela's 7-year old son called out to her from the living room "Hurry Mommy, come here!" Adela rushed to the room and found her son watching a tv commercial for Operation Smile. "Look Mommy, they can fix David's lip! I want to see my baby brother like that with his mouth fixed. You have to take him to those people." This was the first time Adela had ever heard of Operation Smile. With renewed hope, she took down the information and prayed that she would be able to finally see her baby with a new lip.

As the day for screening approached, Adela said she began to get nervous. "I had heard that they wouldn't be able to do the surgery if he got sick or had a cough, so I was trying my best to keep him healthy." When screening day arrived, David was in good health and ready for surgery! Soon Adela received a surgery date and information on when to bring her son to the hospital. David was finally going to get his surgery! 

David recovered quickly and took his medicine like a champ. "I'm so happy he can have a normal mouth now," she told us trying to hold back the tears. "I am just so grateful." 

David and Adela

It was so great to hear David's story and so many others as each night passed. It was such a great reminder to me of why we do what we do. It is worth all of the jet lag, hard work, night shifts and tired days. Because at the end of it all, we had 99 babies and children with each of their own stories who received their own special miracle and now each one of them has a bright future. I am so grateful that I got to be a part of each of their amazing stories! I hope it's not long before I get to come back and be part of another incredible mission!

Adventure to Half Dome

One of the great things that I love about being a travel nurse is that I get to explore new places all the time! And many times, I also have friends come visit and explore with me! Michelle is one of those people. She is a Canadian dental hygienist that I met on Mercy Ships several years ago. Ever since we bonded on the sail to Tenerife in 2012, we have stayed in touch and had lots of adventures all over Canada and the US. I always know I can count on her for a fun adventure.

So when she decided to come visit me in San Francisco, I knew this time would be no different. Normally, I'm a pretty good planner, but Michelle is so laid back that I know we can always swing something last minute if we need to. We had only loosely planned a few things for her visit and nothing was really set in stone up until a week before she came out. So when a friend at work started telling me about her recent camping trip to Yosemite and showed me pictures, I decided I needed to take Michelle camping there! The only problem was that campsites are apparently hard to come by. It was only a few days away and I wasn't sure I'd get something last minute, but I thought I'd give it a shot. And what do you know, there was one campsite open and I got it!

So then I decided that we should attempt to get permits to hike Half Dome, an intense hike that is listed as one of the "Top 10 Must-Do Hikes in the US." Based on the pictures and stories, it seemed a little bit intimidating, but I had a feeling it would be a lot of fun if we got to do it. Due to the popularity of the hike, only a set number of permits are issued per day to hike it. I prayed we'd get lucky and applied for the permit lottery two nights before Michelle got to town. The next night, I got an email telling me that I was one of the lucky few who had scored two permits for Half Dome! I sent Michelle a text late that night and told her to pack her hiking boots. We were going to hike Half Dome!

Saturday morning, Michelle arrived and we set out for our adventure. The drive to Yosemite was about 3 1/2 hours from Oakland, which was the perfect opportunity to catch up in the car. It turns out we were enjoying our chat a little bit too much...because I missed the signs that tell you to turn off your air conditioning while driving up the switchbacks. It was a hot day and there was a lot of uphill driving on the way. We were chugging along when we heard a noise underneath the car, as if something had broken or fallen off. I pulled off to the side of the road to see what was wrong, but Michelle and I didn't notice anything abnormal. So we got back in and kept driving until I noticed that my temperature gauge was getting hot. As I was looking for a place to pull off, my car started to smoke. There was a parking lot off to the right hand side and I pulled in to see what was going on with my car.

We had no cell phone service and weren't quite sure what to do. Then a few people pulled up next to us. We thought they were stopping to help and then noticed the sign in front of us. It said "Welcome to Yosemite." We had made it all the way to the entrance! I guess if your car is going to overheat, that's not a bad place to pull over. After realizing how close we were to the ranger station, we walked up and used the phone to call my insurance. Basically our options were 1) Try to fix the problem ourselves or 2) Tow my car. I wasn't about ready to let them take my car away. We were within walking distance of our campsite, but the Half Dome trail was miles away and I had my mind set on hiking it. We hadn't come this far for nothing!

The nearest gas station was five miles away, so we had to hitchhike down to buy some coolant for my car. We had no problem catching a ride and jumped in an RV with a friendly British family that was heading out of the park (this was another time I was thankful that Michelle is so laid back). We enjoyed hearing about their adventures driving across the US. Then they wished us luck as they dropped us off at the gas station. We bought the coolant and then surveyed the options for people to hitchhike back into the park with. We met a friendly Swiss couple and they agreed to let us ride with them after they filled up their gas tank. "First I just have to figure out what type of gas to put in my rental car," the guy said. He had the car manual out and was flipping through hopelessly. I smiled and told him not to worry. We may not be experts with car mechanics, but we could certainly help him choose which gasoline to put in his car :) Ahh, I just love foreigners!

After I got to practice a few phrases in French and hear more about Switzerland, the couple dropped us off at our car and told us they hoped to see us on the Half Dome trail the next day. Things were looking up and in spite of the hiccup with the car and Michelle and I were having a great time. Soon enough, we were setting up camp and preparing our packs for the big hike the next day.

On Sunday morning, we woke up early and headed up the road for the Half Dome hike. In the first five minutes on the road, my car started overheating again and my heart sank. "No, this can't happen! We have to hike Half Dome!" I popped the hood and Michelle poured in more coolant. We were starting to get pretty good at this. Then we rolled down the windows and cranked on the heat (a little trick we were taught the day before about cooling down your engine) and said a prayer that we would make it. After that, it was smooth sailing and next thing we knew, we were at the trailhead for the big hike.

The scenery was beautiful all the way up with stunning waterfalls and massive granite walls around us. We met a few people on the way, including a couple named Camilla and Max who quickly became our new hiking buddies. Camilla was from England and Max from Germany, but they had met each other in Tanzania. We all shared stories about Africa and our humanitarian work overseas and after bonding over our love for Africa, we decided that we should all hike to the top together.

Max and Camilla proved to be great hiking buddies and doubled as photographers when we found a great view and wanted to take pictures. After a long, hot, hike we finally reached the cables. Michelle and I looked at each other with big eyes. We had heard it was tough, but standing there watching all the people pulling themselves up the steep incline made us both a bit nervous. "Are you thinking of turning back?" I asked Michelle. "No we came this far. We have to do it," she responded very matter-of-fact. I was glad she was all in because I certainly didn't want to do this alone.

Next thing we knew, we were climbing the cables, slow and steady, one step at a time. One of the challenges of going up was that it was a bit crowded when we started and we had to carefully pass the people who were coming down. So there we were, holding on to the cables with both hands, trying not to slip at the extra steep parts and only looking down occasionally. It was one of those times that I got to experience what the saying "hold on for dear life" really means. It took a lot of upper body strength as well, as you're literally pulling yourself up the mountain.

Finally, we made it to the top and celebrated with a drink, a snack and some photos. We had finally made it! On the way back down, there were a lot less people, so it was nice that we didn't have to worry about passing all the hikers climbing up. Surprisingly enough, I found that going down was not scary at all. We just came down backwards holding the cables and before we knew it, we were at the bottom. After a few miles of hiking, we stopped by the creek for a little while to pump fresh water and relax. Even though we would've loved to stay there the rest of the night, we knew we had to finish up the hike so we headed back down the trail.

As our journey came to an end, we said our goodbyes and parted ways with Max and Camilla. On the drive back to the campground, the stars were so amazing that I had to pull off for a few minutes. Michelle and I had a few minutes of taking in the beauty of God's creation and I silently said a prayer thanking Him for getting us safely up and down the cables in one piece.

Back at the campground, we celebrated a successful day with a small campfire (thanks to Michelle and her fire-building skills) and roasted marshmallows over the fire. It had been a fun adventure and I was grateful to share it with such a fun, adventurous group of people. I don't know if I'll ever make it back to hike Half Dome again, but I can definitely say that it was an incredible experience that I will never forget!

Ethiopia

After almost two years away from Africa, I was very excited when Operation Smile contacted me and asked me to go to Ethiopia this summer. I would finally be going back to Africa! Although I had never been to Ethiopia before, I had friends who had visited and loved it. So I was excited to go see for myself what it was really like.

But it's funny how one experience with the same organization can be so different than the next. I think I expected my mission to Ethiopia to be very similar to the mission in Chiapas, even though they are such different places...simply because I was working with the same organization doing the same surgeries. Obviously that was a bit naïve considering that the locations and cultures were very different.

So I quickly found out that Ethiopia was a whole different ball game. There were many challenges that we had to face that didn't come up in Mexico....like the fact that sometimes there was no running water, which meant there was no laundry services and our supply of clean sheets was low. So we had to improvise and use what we had and find other things that we could use to cover the beds (we settled for the disposable "chux" pads).

Another challenge was the language barrier. I didn't realize how much I had taken for granted the ability to speak Spanish in Mexico. In Addis Ababa, our patients spoke primarily Amaric, which I do not even remotely understand. We also had quite a few patients that had traveled from Somalia to have surgery. So we had to use a Somali interpreter to communicate with them. Unfortunately, we only started with one Somali interpreter, so we had to share him among all the patients until they could get us a couple other interpreters the following day. Thankfully, we had a sweet med student who spoke Somali who I was able to recruit to help us at the beginning of the mission. 

But in spite of all the challenges and lack of resources, we had an amazing team who pulled together to do an amazing job. I was absolutely blown away by the nurses and physicians on our team. One of my favorites was Annemieke, a Dutch pediatrician with an English accent who had a perfect balance of professionalism and fun. There was always a lot of laughter when she was around. And she also took care of me when I got food poisoning, so I owed her big time for that!

In the pre/post team, we had Swedish, Canadian, and American nurses, along with a local Ethiopian nurse who we trained. He was a quick learner and was also a huge help with the Amaric-speaking patients. It was a lot of fun watching him grow in his knowledge and skills through the duration of the mission.

Photo-op with our local nurse Mekuria (left) 

This was my first time working day shift on an Operation Smile mission, so I got to see a lot more of the action this time around. One of my favorite stations was the pre-op play area where our child life specialist, Alex would prep the patients for surgery. She would explain the anesthesia on a kid's level and let them play with the masks and other medical "toys." There was always a lot of fun and laughter going on in this part of the hospital. I can genuinely say that Alex is one of the most energetic, gifted specialists I have ever worked with in my nursing career. She did such an amazing job with the kids and helped us keep a smooth flow with all the pre-op patients going into surgery.

There were definitely a lot of moments where I almost felt like I was back on the ship again. It was mostly the controlled chaos and the many "TIA" moments when you just have to go with the flow and accept that things are different in Africa. I think that the 2+ years I spent in West Africa definitely helped me to be more laid back in that type of working environment.

Along with the controlled chaos, it was also just nice to be back in the African culture. While we didn't have drums and dancing in the ward like we did on the ship, we did have the warm African culture. And of course, you can always break through the cultural barriers with bubbles and toys! 

One day during the mission, I had to go down to another unit in the hospital to borrow some blankets (because once again, there was no running water or laundry). When I got to the nurses' breakroom to ask them for blankets, they were having their afternoon coffee break. Now you have to understand that in Ethiopia, they are serious about their coffee. They actually roast the beans right there, make the fresh coffee and serve it with fresh popcorn (a little strange, I know, but it makes for a pretty good combo). So I walked in and saw that they were pouring the coffee and being the warm-cultured people that they are, they asked if I wanted to join them for coffee. Never mind that I was in a bit of a hurry to get the blankets so I could go back to the ward and get some things done. None of those things were urgent and this was an opportunity to soak up the Ethiopian culture. I knew I had at least ten minutes to spare and these were the kind of moments you do not pass up.

Preparing for the traditional coffee ceremony 

While I sat and drank coffee with these friendly people, I had the chance to get to know them a little bit better. A few were shy with their English, but one of the head nurses had actually trained in Cuba so she spoke perfect Spanish. So there I was, sitting in an Ethiopian hospital, speaking Spanish and drinking coffee with perfect strangers. It was one of those moments where I had to stop and think to myself "My life is so crazy and I absolutely love it!"

After a nice coffee and chat with the nurses, I thanked them and headed back to finish up my work upstairs. I was a little nervous that I would be regretting the coffee later on (they don't always use purified water), so I said a little prayer that I wouldn't get sick and headed back to the ward. Thankfully the post-op area was not very busy and the other nurses hadn't even noticed I was gone while I was making new friends in the L & D unit. After a few hours of no stomachache, I also thanked the Lord that I didn't get sick from the coffee.

But unfortunately, a few days later, I was not so lucky. My roommate had shared some fruit with me and even though I had washed it with bottled water, the next morning, it decided to come right back up. It is never fun to start a day on the mission with your head hanging over the toilet, but sometimes that's just how life goes. I knew I couldn't stay back at the hotel because another post-op nurse had a fever and was staying back. So I sucked it up and went to work.

But after only a few hours of being at the hospital, I found myself with my head over the toilet once again. I finally decided I couldn't hide it anymore and told my friend Annemieke (who happened to be our team doctor) that I had been vomiting. After a little bit of scolding, she loaded me up with some zofran and told me that if I vomited again, she was sending me straight to the hotel. But our post-op team was already short-staffed, so I decided that I wouldn't take my chances and would just lunch and hydrate myself as much as possible so I could get through the day. I felt miserable and it was physically one of the hardest shifts I've ever worked, but I made it through and collapsed on my bed when we got back to the hotel. Needless to say, I slept really well that night.

The rest of the mission went pretty smoothly and before we knew it, the trip had come to an end. As usual, we had our final party the night before everyone flew out. Our team leaders surprised us with a live band and performers who did some of the local African dances in the traditional outfits. By the end of the night, we had all joined in the fun and dancing. It was a great end to a long week.

Kayaking with Jamie on team day

While I have to admit that this was not the easiest mission I've ever been on, I am so grateful that I was able to be a part of the team. I felt challenged and stretched on many occasions, but it was a great growing experience for me. And we all know that difficult situations provide great opportunities to build stronger character! I was so blessed to work with this team of volunteers and I hope to see many of them again on future Operation Smile missions!

Another new adventure

Sometimes the dreams in our hearts take a long time before they finally comes to pass. For a long time, one of my dreams was to be a part of the work of Operation Smile. I heard about it several years back and was intrigued by their work in providing cleft lip and palate surgeries all over the world.  I had thought about signing up with the organization for awhile and then finally decided to apply at the end of 2013 after finishing up with Mercy Ships. But the process of becoming officially "credentialed" and accepted for a mission was much slower than I had anticipated. After submitting my application, months of nothing but silence followed and I started to lose hope that I would ever have the privilege of serving with them.

I had almost completely forgotten about my application when I saw an old Mercy Ships friend at a wedding last summer. He informed me that he had plans to go to Malawi with Operation Smile a few weeks later. He assured me that he had lots of connections who would be able to help me with my credentialing process and get me signed up for a mission. So the process finally started moving along as my friend connected me with several key people within the organization. Before long, I was officially "credentialed" and asked to submit my mission location preferences.

But the only problem was that each mission only allows one first-time nurse to come. The purpose for this restriction is to provide a strong team that has plenty of experience with the standards and expectations of Operation Smile. However, it makes it a bit more challenging for the first-timers, as there is only one slot per mission for the newbies.

A few months went by and then one day, out of the blue, one of the team leaders wrote to me saying that they needed a Spanish-speaking nurse on their mission to Chiapas, Mexico in April. I was excited for the opportunity to finally go on my first mission! Things came together quickly and before long, I had my plane ticket and was all set to go!

Having grown up near the border of Mexico and visiting many times before, I expected Chiapas to be very similar to all the other places I had been in Mexico. But both the city and the mission itself exceeded my expectations! The city center was very quaint, with cobblestone streets, restaurants, live music, and some amazing coffee shops (they grow the beans nearby and  everything is fresh). Not to mention, there were lots of great places to experience the culture, including one of my favorite activities...salsa dancing!!!

Chiapas at night 



We had phenomenal leaders who made sure everything was perfectly organized and ready to go when we all arrived. Our entire team was amazing, with a mix of international and local volunteers. My roommate was from Italy, our pediatrician was from Russia, and we had several other team members from Spain. And obviously we had lots of volunteers from Mexico! But in spite of the team's cultural diversity, everyone worked well together to give the patients the best care. The screening went smoothly and before we knew it, the surgeries were in full swing.

Our amazing leaders (in orange) and a few of our translators 



I was on the night shift with another nurse named Kristi, an experienced volunteer who did a great job of teaching me the ropes of OpSmile. It was great to have a little bit slower pace on the night shift to have time to get used to everything without being overwhelmed and also to spend time getting to know the patients better. The patients and families were so grateful for the work we were doing and endlessly thanked us.

One night, one of the mom's who was very intrigued with the international volunteers began asking me questions about how we all had come together in Chiapas. She asked me what it was like to be on an airplane up in the sky, as she had never had that opportunity before. Her eyes got wide as I described what it was like to be up in the clouds looking down on all the cities that seemed so tiny from up above. Watching her intrigue over the experience of flying reminded me of the privilege it is to be able to travel as much as I do, which I often take for granted.

Another night, Kristi came back to the nurse's station with a big smile on her face and told me to go to the room where one of the older patients was awake. It was the middle of the night and most of the patients were sleeping, so I was curious as to what could be going on. I went out to investigate and found an older boy, sitting at the edge of the bed, holding up his mirror, in awe of his new smile that he had been waiting for all of his life. While everyone else was sleeping, he was too excited to close his eyes and lay down. He just wanted to sit there and look at his beautiful lips and new smile.  It was a very sweet moment.

Kristi and Elena (our pediatrician) 



The trip was full of precious moments that have made for some very special memories. I may not remember the names of each and every patient, but I remember their smiles and the joy I saw in their parents' eyes as they admired the transformation of their little ones. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be a part of this mission and to work such an amazing team! I will forever cherish the memories I made in Chiapas and I look forward to many more missions in the future. It may have taken a long time to get on my first mission, but it was definitely worth the wait!