Relentless Strength

This past Sunday morning I had an internal battle when my alarm went off.  The shuttle that was going to Our Lady of Assumption Cathedral was set to leave around 9:15am but my bed seemed as though it turned into quicksand and I simply could not escape.  I had this sense of guilt wash over me, but apparently it wasn't strong enough to pull me up.  It was then however, that I remembered there was going to be a Ward Service at 10:30am.  Now that the hospital is up and running, each week the chaplaincy department puts together a service for the patients (and crew) to participate in while they're on the ship.  I decided to scope it out since I failed to catch the mass earlier.  It was without a doubt another unforgettable experience on board this amazing vessel.

I walked down to the hospital and saw rows of chairs lined up throughout the wards.  Bandaged patients were limping down the hallway, inching their way into the next ward where the service was going to be held.  The nurses that were working that morning helped direct the able patients to the chairs while a few stayed in bed - but still within earshot.  A young girl, who I hadn't yet met, caught my eye and pointed to a stool next to her bed.  Through smiles and hand motions we agreed that I'd park myself beside her as she laid in bed patiently waiting for the service to start. 

We were sitting towards the back of one of the wards so I couldn't see the readers, translator, or the drummers, but it didn't take me very long to understand that was not an issue at all.  As soon as the service began, through my glossy eyes, I had a perfect view...

To my far right was a small child who, I was told cried whenever anybody came close by.  Being a peds nurse, I knew enough to not rock the boat, and was content when I noticed her dad was in her line of vision and continually gave her reassuring looks as he followed along with the service.  One of the other off duty nurses was much braver than I was and slowly inched her way closer to the child throughout the service.  It was so fun to glance over and find she had successfully gotten a step closer...and then closer...still no crying...and by the end they were holding hands.  The child of course remained stoic but the smile that crept over her fathers face was quite a sight.

I wasn't entirely sure what had brought the young girl I was sitting next to into the hospital, but I noticed her torso was all bandaged up.  She wasn't able to bring her hands together, because of decreased range of motion, so once the clapping and singing began - we shared the task.  Clapping is one of those milestones we get so much joy from when babies master it.  It seems like such a thoughtless and automatic thing to do once the music starts rolling, yet this child was limited to one handed tapping.  My heart swelled when she allowed me sneak my hand on the bed under hers.  She probably was laughing in her head at my inability to keep the rhythm but she was kind enough to let it slide.

To my left I saw two of my patients I had taken care of on Friday.  Both were close to my age but had just gone through surgery earlier in the week.  It was so fun to watch them - one with his lip and chin covered in steri strips, the other with a bandage on his neck, sutures lining his face, and NG tube hanging from his nose - totally engrossed in the service.  They were clapping and singing, nodding in agreement with what was being spoken.  There is no doubt in my mind, these men are going to be just fine when they walk off the gangway and back into the world that used to shun them.

The most heart wrenching sight however, was directly in front of me - I simply couldn't escape it.  I'm not a crier, at least not in front of people, but I had to bite my lip more than once to keep it from quivering during that time of worship.  I would love to say I just had some dust in my eye, or try to chalk it up to the "new away from home environment," but I'm pretty sure the Guy upstairs was trying to let me know He was present.

In front of me sat two women - both mothers of young children who had been looked after in D Ward.  Both exhausted from sleepless nights as they made sure their child continued to breathe.  Both just beginning a journey neither expected to face when they brought their child into this world.  One mother held her son who had just received a life saving surgery during the week to remove a tumor from his oral cavity.  It had grown so much that it was blocking his airway and breathing had become a tiring task.  I have never seen retractions as impressive as the ones he experienced.  When I first met him he could barely keep his eyes open, as he was using all his strength to pull air in and push it out of his little body again.  There wasn't really a word that could adequately describe his "noisy breathing," it was like nothing I had witnessed.  But when he went quiet, the still in the air made all of us hold our breath, until he startled himself and struggled to continue to inhale.  I honestly believe his surgery could not have waited another day.  And there he sat perched on his mothers lap - eyes wide open, breathing easy for the first time in months.  He was quickly learning how to become the wiggle worm healthy little boys are supposed to be.  And there sat his mother - eyes closed clapping the loudest to the music - rejoicing and worshiping a wonderful God.  She just had this committed faith that was amazing to watch pour out.

My eyes wandered a couple feet over and there stood another mother with her young baby wrapped on her back.  Just two days earlier, she had learned that there was nothing Mercy Ships could do for her child.  Her child also had a large tumor in her mouth that seemed to progressively worsen.  Her battle was quite similar to the other child's in that each breath in was just as difficult as it was to push out.  Her body often sat limp against her mother, as she couldn't lay down because the tumor would push against her airway and breathing would be impossible.  Over the weekend the nurses on the ward worked tirelessly to keep her comfortable, wanting so bad to free her from the pain she endured.  And there was her mother, bouncing her child in her Sunday dress, clapping along with the music.  She wasn't angry or pleading with the Lord, but instead expressed her love for Him.  There was this trust in her eyes that was simply overwhelming.

Two extremes sitting side by side, each with a strength that made me wipe that dust from my eyes.

Sadly, one child's journey took a turn none of us were quite ready for - a wonderful nurse was chosen to be with her during that time.  Take a look at her story http://debsheartinafrica.blogspot.com.