Where I am meant to be...and filled with Hope.

I have been writing this blog for three weeks now. I should have just posted it with every addition as it has now become a small novel, I'm sorry about that :)



22nd April: After sitting in airports for seventeen hours and on various planes for seventeen more I finally arrived in the Port city of Lome, the country of Togo, West Africa. At one in the morning it was a great relief to see my luggage approach me on the (ancient) carousel and to embrace good friends who took me safely to the ship. As I ascended the gangway to the ship and stepped onboard I instantly felt at home-everything felt so familiar and a deep peace poured over me...the revelation swept over me as I had the realization “wow, this is without a doubt where I am meant to be”.

The next day was filled with wonderful hugs and welcomes as so many familiar friends and faces greeted me. I walked into the dining room at lunchtime (at its busiest hour it usually seats 300 and is very noisy) and there were delighted cries as old friends who had not known about my return saw me-it was overwhelming but also encouraging and a lot of fun catching up with people.

That afternoon I headed off ship and as we left the Port I inhaled the undescribable yet unforgettable smell of Africa-it is not one that makes your nose screw up and your stomach repulse-more a mixture of the red earth, and the people. The humidity and heat hit me and I after I had walked ten metres my clothes were sticking to me. I have the comparison of last year in Benin often in my mind, sometimes this is good and bad. The atmosphere in Togo is much more electric and I can feel the tension here. I now see how safe we were last year in Benin and how much more freedom we had, all the crew here have been given clear instructions regarding safety. I think the Port in every city in the world would not be very safe and sadly we have found it to be very dangerous just outside the Port gates of e in the Port of Lome. On the ship I feel safe and we are very blessed to have drivers that shuttle us wherever we want to go around Lome. In a sense I feel like a part of my freedom has been taken from me-despite this I still feel that being here and doing the work I am involved is worth it.

I run in the mornings at five thirty with our Ship Security guards-they are Nepalese Gherkas and I feel very safe with them and they also set quite a pace:) On Sundays I run to the Ghana border and back which is 20kl in total-we begin at 6am and by 8am the sun is scorching.I was amazed to see hundreds of local people out-Sunday mornings is their sports time, it was really nice to see the people here enjoying themselves as life here can be so harsh. The beach was covered with hundreds of people playing football and there were running groups of over a hundred. At one point we found ourselves among a running group that was over a hundred people; it was a lot of fun-the people in the centre of the group carry musical instruments and everyone was singing-the atmosphere was so joyful and it helped me to keep tting one foot in front of the other. Every Sunday I have a little friend who joins me (usually for 10kl) his name is Joel, he is eleven and speaks english perfectly as he has just moved to Togo from Ghana (english speaking) with his family. Each time I see him he gives me a big hug and keeps me company as we push through the heat.

Mercy Ships visited Togo the first time in 1991 and this is the fourth time we have been here. Dr Gary Parker is the chief Medical Officer onboard and has worked as a surgeon on Mercy Ships for 23 years. I inquired whether he can see a significant difference in the people's health from the first visit the Ship made to Togo. It is wonderful to hear him say that the improvement in their health and the effects that have taken place is overall significantly better since the first time the ship came nineteen years ago. Despite this there is still so much need and the reputation of the work we do goes before us and the queues are very long-there is no need to encourage the people at all-they will travel from far and wide and there is a desperate need. As in every country it is amazing to see how the people of Togo are amazed when they see the tumours of great size and deformities that present themselves. So often these individuals have been hidden by their family, suffering in silence and isolation away from their community and loved ones only to emerge with the glimmer of hope that they may receive surgery and be accepted once again. There is so much sadness sometimes in their eyes that it is heartbreaking-many of them will not make eye contact due to shame.

The outreach here in Togo will only be for 6 months as the ship sails to South Africa end of August to have generators that are urgently required fitted there. I was informed by one of the surgeons the other day that even if we operate for 24 hours a day we could still not complete all of the surgery that is needed here. The people of Togo are crying out for more yet it is sadly not possible. How can we possibly decide who needs the surgery most?or whose life should be changed forever? There is always dissapointment yet there is also always hope.

Once the patients receive surgery and have had post-operative care in the ward and are comfortable we transfer them to the Hospitality centre. This is located on land and where patients stay so they can return to the ship for checkups on their wounds and extra care. My first Sunday I attended church there and found myself a little shocked at the large tumours I saw-people awaiting surgery. I thought after last year I would not be so astounded yet to see these people and for just a moment to imagine what life must be like with a 3kg tumour hanging off my face makes me shudder and wonder at how strong they must be-not just physically but emotionally. Orthopaedic surgery has just finished so there were many sweet children hopping around on casts (with shoes made out of road tyres) and big grins on their faces-they are fully aware their legs are no longer bent in funny angles but straight like their friends. As the singing and dancing began to reach its climax I clapped with joy and also observed a little girl of age four with a gorgeous smile making her way across the room to me-she had a cast up to her mid-thigh on her left leg and she was persevering down the makeshift aisle, hopping along and keeping her eyes set on me-as she got to the row I was seated in she proceeded to climb over three people before she was standing before me-her arms stretched out asking me to pick her up. I gently pulled her into my arms and she then covered my face with kisses-she was a little character and after lots of hugs she took my hands and taught me to dance-shaking her little hips with more rhythm than I could ever hope for. Halfway through the message I looked behind me and made eye contact with a woman who had severe Fibrous Dysplasia all over her face. A condition which causes abnormal bone or tissue growth and is incredibly disfiguring. Her face looked as though it had twisted upon itself and there were huge abnormal lumps on her head which her hair was hiding. She was holding a baby to her chest and as she quickly looked away from my eyes I could see there was a mixture of sadness and shame in her eyes. I kept looking at her-waiting for her to raise her head-after a minute (that seemed like an eternity) she looked up at me and I smiled-I didn’t look her face-or the bony protrusions coming out of her cheeks-I kept my eyes upon hers so she would see I wasn’t looking at how badly she was disfigured-I saw surprise in her eyes and then a smile crept across her lips. I turned to face the front again to listen to the African preacher (there were four translators for the local languages here) who was speaking about hope…how there is always hope.

The following Tuesday I was in surgery with Dr Parker. It was the first time being back in the Operating room after six months away ( I worked with the elderly in New Zealand when I was home) so I was feeling a little rusty. One of the nurses said “I’ve written you down to assist and scrub for the Lady with Fibrous Dysplasia” and I said “great” thinking it would be a small case. As the lady from the hospitality centre entered I realized this was not going to be a small case. The surgery took five hours and was very intense. I felt filled with emotions I could not describe and felt myself thinking of what a hard life she must have had-the years of bone growing and slow twisting of facial features taking place, the emotional turmoil as friends and family looked away or upon her face in shock and confusion. On this ship we carry out surgery hoping to bring healing to a person's body but what about their soul?all of those years of pain and emotionl suffering they have endured. As I have the priviledge of praying before every surgery with the patients-asking God for his help in every simple operation and every complex one, I also ask for the emotional healing for them-for that healing which as nurses and Doctors we can not possibly bring with medical care.

At the end of this operation I felt weary yet a deep sense of contentedness as it is so good to see what change can take place in a person’s life in just five hours.

I have been here three weeks yet I have lost track of all time, it feels like I have been here for two months. Life is so busy on this ship-after long days in the Operating Room there are always friends to spend time and activities going on. I’m enjoying being back so much. I feel so grateful when I think of every person who has contributed to help me return-once again my dreams are coming true and without the generosity of amazing people in the world I would not have been able to make it back.