Lessons Learned

I've learned a few things here; how to feed children, how to take care of temper tantrums, how to take care of babies.

I've also learned that children get sick.

And that when children get sick, they sneeze.

And I've learned, most of all, that when young children get sick and they sneeze, they don't know to cover their mouths. Even when said mouth is full of food.



Now if you would excuse me, I need to go blow my nose.

I've offically been in Ecuador for eleven days now!

The first week I spent Quito, the capital of Ecuador. That's where For His Children has their main base. We worked there for the week, spent the weekend exploring (and getting lost, but it's okay! We were fine!)
Then on Monday Emily, Jen and I went on a two hour bus ride to Latacunga. Five hours later we arrived at the sister orphange, sleepy yet excited.

It's all one big house here, the children in the bottom, Emily and I above. I absolutly love it here, despite spending most of today on the couch with a cold.
We'll be here till Friday, then we're back off to Quito!

The children here are wonderful and adorable! I really do love them all so much.

Wrapping Up and Gaining Speed

It's about seven thirty in the morning, my second day of work. I'm wrapped up tightly in a blanket, who knew Ecuador was this cold? The birds are singing and I think I'm the only one awake in this house. The Tias have a meeting at nine in the team house, so I’ll be heading over to help watch the kids in the Casa Sol.
I’m cold, nothing's rocking and I haven't seen the ocean in days.
This isn’t Africa!

After an amazing eighteen months on a ship in Africa, Mercy Ships and I have officially parted ways. (For good? Eh, we'll see!) May 19th I finished packing, said many goodbyes and walked down the gangway for the last time (at least, for this time.) It was hard to leave and more than once the thought "What am I? Crazy? Why on Earth am I leaving???" ran through my head, but with no time to change my flight I continued on my way.

As amazingly sad as I was to leave my floating home, I was just as excited to get to my landlocked one. Seeing my parents, brother, friends after a year and a half of absences was amazing! Everyone's grown up, gotten older, gotten taller! I was only gone for eighteen months, how much has changed!

After an wonderful (abite short) six days at home, Lauren, the young lady who is living at my house, and I set off on another plane, this time to Florida for the NEXT Conference.

NEXT is a Christian conference geared towards college age people, set up by Sovereign Grace Church. What an amazing time! There we were submerged in the word, listening to lectures by theologians such as D.A. Carson, K. Scott Oliphint and R.C. Sproul. Needless to say, I came back with a pile of books and some new additions to my iPod!

After the conference, I arrived home the first of June, unpacked, re-packed and was off again Friday morning at 4:45, this time on my way to Ecuador.

I'll be here in Ecuador for a month, working at "For His Children" an orphanage here in Quito. Emily, one of my closest friends since I was twelve, discovered this place back in 2008, going on her first mission's trip here, while I went on my first one to Africa. She's been wanting to go back ever since and finally got the chance now.
She invited me to come along and of course I jumped at the chance!

There are three houses here; Casa Vaughn, the baby house, Casa Sol, the toddler house and Casa Harlow, the house for disabled children.

We've been doing some office work, but most of our time is spent in any of the three houses. Feeding the children, playing with them, interacting and loving on them. I had three different babies fall asleep in my arms, just in my first day of work!

I've been here in Ecuador for almost five days, today's my second day of work and already I know that, while it will be hard, I'm really going to love it here.

Day 497 or The Nose Job

One of the many benefits of living on a hospital ship in Africa is that during field service, the hospital lets us come down and watch surgeries. It’s all carefully done, of course, with sign up sheets, scrubs, mask, shoe coverings and sometimes goggles.

Last year I got to watch both cataract surgery and pterygium sugary. Cataract is when the lens inside your eye because cloudy. They take it out and replace it with a small plastic disc. Pterygium is when the white of the eye begins to grow over the iris and has to be cut away.

After seeing surgeries on eyes, I figured I’d be set for anything.

I was wrong.

I arrived, right on time and after a few last minute things, was brought into the sterile hallway. Alex checked the three rooms currently running and found the last one to be ready for visitors. The room was cold, air conditioning going strong, and the whole thing felt as sterile as it was. The table was covered with blue fabric with one slit in it, exposing a small, thin leg. There was a new cut down the middle where the ball meets the heel. One of the nurses explained to me that the foot was stuck in an unnatural position and needed to be moved. They also were going to take a tendon out of their ankle. I watched as they made the second cut, then, after locating the percises one, began to pull the tendon out of his/her leg. Pull. The pure white tendon. It had only been a few minutes before that I had noticed that I no longer was cold. I wasn’t even cool. I was in fact, quite hot.

I let myself out with the lame excuse of “I think I’m going to see what are in the other rooms.”

After a few minutes of standing in the hall, I was joined by one of the nurses. At first I thought she was coming to check on me. Instead she leaned against the wall and put her head down. We talked for a few minutes, neither really understanding why we couldn’t handle it.

I excused myself once more, though I felt better knowing I wasn't the only one.

After a coffee and a bit of reading, I decided to try again. I went back to the OR, back on went the hat, back on went the mask and boots. We got to the hall again and Alex said “Do you want to see the head surgery?” Maybe that was a bad idea. I agreed anyways.

We walked in, the cold air greeting us once again. The patient, a young woman, lay sedated on the table, tape over her eyes, an air pipe in her mouth and a four by four inch square of her skull exposed. They had made two slits and folded it back to work. They had already done most of the drilling and as I walked in, they finished and pulled out a chisel. The nurse explained to me that they were going to take a layer off of her skull and put it in her nose. A layer of her skull and put it in her nose!

Apparently this young woman had come to the ship in 2002 for issues with her brain not being the right place. Mostly being inside her skull. They had fixed it, but her nose had almost no support, leaving it quite flat and fleshy.

The anesthesiologist told me that if I moved to the opposite side of the room and stood on the stool, I’d be able to see more. The view was amazing. From this side, I could see that they had made about a two inch slit down her nose, starting about where the eyebrows meet, like a gapping mouth between her eyes. The doctor tried out the bone, sliding it through the slit and down her nose. Examined it, then took it out to be trimmed. He shaved it down, trimming and smoothing, then slide it back in. Pleased with how it looked, he pulled it back out and began asking the nurses for equipment I had never heard of.

Allison started doing something I didn’t understand, pushing a thin metal screwdriver into and out of a plastic box. I then realized she pulling out screws, tiny tiny screws. A small piece of metal they called a plate, but looked to me like the metal version of those rubber bands they use in the orthodontist, the long ones they use to connect all the teeth together, was passed over and he screwed it to the top. He then placed it in the nose once again and screwed it to the bone. About that time I looked at the doctor. He was concentrating hard, completely unaware, or maybe he just didn’t care, of the shreds of bone that covered his shirt and the blood that smeared across his stomach.

He went back to the top of the head and cut a thin sliver of the flesh underneath and pushed it too into the hole in her nose. The stitches were passed to him and he tied the newly moved flesh to the inside so that it wouldn’t move. He then moved back to the head and began to stitch it up. One stitch in the corner, tying it all together, then three single stitches down either side. He then asked for the stapler and put six staples up one side and seven down the other.

He moved back to her nose and stitched up her nose. Allison squirted a goop that reminded me of marmite and smeared it across the staples and stitches in her head. Which of course led to an interesting discussion of “Which food item does this remind us of?” The answers were carmel, marmite and nutela.

I took one last look around the room, the tools spread out, the rags with the blue strip that show up under x-rays, the clothes and the staff. One last look at the girl, the flat nose now stood up with a pretty little tip, the tape over her eyes and the staples down her head. I thanked the staff for letting me watch, then I left.

Day 475 or Part One

This is the offical statment that Mercy Ships has released to the public involving the screening.



Mercy Ships is deeply saddened by the tragic events that occurred today during medical screening at the Freetown National Stadium when a crowd stormed the gate resulting in several injuries and one life lost.

Mercy Ships personnel working at the site attended the injured and accompanied them to local hospitals.

"Our hearts and prayers are with the individuals and families of those affected by today's events. The occurrence of this incident in the course of activities intended to restore lives is tragic. We move forward with tremendous sadness, but great determination, to assist as many people as possible in the next ten months," stated Mercy Ships Founder, Don Stephens.

Mercy Ships exists to serve the forgotten poor and has served Sierra Leone five times over the past two decades, also helping establish two land-based health care facilities. For the next ten months, Mercy Ships will be providing surgeries for qualified patients while working alongside the Sierra Leonean Government to support its five-year healthcare plan and strengthen the functions of the national health system.



Please keep the people of Sierra Leone and the Mercy Ships crew in your prayers, not just today but in the months to come.

Day 449 or On Our Way Once Again!

After five months, three false starts and lots of fun times, we're officially on our way! We've left the port behind and are now on our way to Cape Town for a full refilling, which will be anywhere from twenty-four, forty-eight to any amount of hours you can imagine! We started leaving about eleven this morning and have been sailing for about six hours now. I'm glad to say that my stomach still seems to love sailing as much as I do, something I am very thankful about!

Here are some pictures as we left South African Shipyards, our home for the almost half a year.

The dilapidated old boat that rot- ehem, I mean lived next to us.


Our lonely little gangway that we left behind.




The helicopter that came and picked up the pilot. When we come in and out of port, the port will supply a pilot to navigate though the waters in port. They don't however want to sail with us, so South African Shipyard had a helicopter to pick and drop him off!



And the answer to last weeks quote was Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, quote said by Trillian.

Day 439 or Probability Factor of 1 to 1

Five to one against and falling. Four to one against and falling. Three to one. Two. One. Probability factor of one to one. We have normality, I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem.

For those of you who were not aware, the last four and a half months our crew have been divided between those who were living on the ships, such as engineers, deckies, half of food service and other such people and those at Appelsbosh, such as teachers, families, bankers and others. Appelsbosh is a small abandoned college campus about three hours drive from the dock.

In preparation for our (hopefully) soon departure, the Appelboshians have returned!
There are people everywhere, all the time! We've gone, in the span of about less than two weeks from 80 to 120. Then in about two days the numbers jumped to 300!(And for those of you who are wondering, yes the dining room is slightly overwhelmed, it's okay, we'll get used to it! ...Someday...)

We've begun running the generators!!!! That means:

Lights;
Over the whole ship! All the time! Which means that wandering around late at night gives you the distinct feeling that you get when you've gone to get a glass of water at about midnight and have found someone has left the kitchen light on. Only you can't turn these off. Plus hallways now feel like day as apposed to small unlit caverns.

Dishwashers;
See previous blog entry.

Heaters;
To keep the food warm! As apposed to previous months when the hot food was kept upstairs till the last five minute to preserve internal temperature, (which resulted in a slightly panicked desperate attempt to put all food away and ready in five minutes while a long line of hard working guys stared at you with painfully hungry gazes.) We now can have to food down and ready! (Before the stares become unbearable.)

And, best of all

Air Conditioning;
I'm just going to say it again; AIR CONDITIONING!!!! My chocolate is now SOLID! I no long eat it with a spoon! Fans are obsolete! I have to use a REAL BLANKET if I don't wish to freeze! Ah, I never realized how wonderful the thick weight of a blanket feels when you climb into bed. (And being on top bunk, I literally mean 'climb'.)
Warm showers are now nice and welcomed. Pajamas are no longer despised because you no longer believe they are attempting to smother you in your sleep!

Things that will hopefully be up and running soon: Crew Galley, ice machines, the hospital and the library.

Things are coming back to normal. There is always someone awake, no matter what time it is. Children are running around, just this morning I had to dodge a remote control car. Dining room's full. Nurses are everywhere. Reception is now manned at all hours.

I've really enjoyed these last couple of months. I've enjoyed being a minority in a very small crew. I've enjoyed the atmosphere. I've enjoyed doing thing differently, because doing things the normal way isn't a option. I've enjoyed spending lazy weekend days in the IT office, the only air conditioned room I'm allowed access to.
Getting to know people I didn't before. I've enjoyed being surrounded by engineers and deckies, listening to conversations on things such as reactors, survival plans, alternate energy ideas, string theory and indestructible wedding rings.

But I'm really enjoying things returning to normal. The feeling of being part of something so big, bigger than just me. People everywhere, things going on. And before we know it, we'll be sailing!


Oh, and a cookie to who ever correctly guesses the quote at the beginning!