A day in the life.

I've shared some video snippets of what life is like for the crew of the AFM (Africa Mercy), but I'd like to share what the experience is like for some of our patients.

*Disclaimer* I did not take any of these photos, there are patients in them, and I am not allowed to take photos of patients. These are official photos taken by our media team and used with express permission. So before you go, "WOW! Your photography skills have dramatically improved," nope, sorry, I didn't take these. I am also not in any of these photos, in case you thought I dyed my hair and grew a foot.

So, without further ado: this is what life is like for the average joe in Madagascar.

Life is full of smiles, songs, and often prayer, but is hard. Most eat what they grow, living on around $1 a day, and are very undernourished. All muscle and no fat.

Especially these guys:

The pus-pus (pronounced "poose poose"). Like a tuk-tuk...without the engine.

These guys have MASSIVE calves.

Kids have it tough, and girls most of all, as they often marry very young, and are expected to cook, clean, and tote water and babies long distances. Often doing so at the expense of an education.

Before the ship ever arrives in a country, and most of the time it is there, there are screening teams travelling far and wide to as many towns as they can. They find surgical candidates, match them with an appointment time when the appropriate surgeon is on board, and sometimes return to help transport the patients at that time.

The long wait on screening day.

When the patients finally arrive in Tamatave, they are met by an admissions nurse, who checks them over, does some bloodwork, and some paperwork, and then they are brought on board the ship. Often, they are CARRIED on board the ship. 'Cause it's a long walk up the gangway, and then another 2 flights of stairs down to the hospital. And many of our patients aren't able to walk.

The first day or so is rather overwhelming for most patients, especially the little ones. Many have hardly ever seen white people, haven't heard another language, haven't walked up stairs, and have certainly never slept on a bed that's 2 feet off the ground! But our wonderful Day Crew (local Malagasy hired as translators and ward aids) soon get them adjusted to this weird, wacky, medical world, and our amazing chaplaincy team gets them singing and dancing pretty quick.

Yes, those are bongos, and yes, that's a guitar, and yes, this happens every day.

The first day after a big surgery can be an especially nerve-wracking time, for patients as well as nurses. When our ICU beds are occupied, there's about 20 times more crazy medical stuff; tubes, lines, monitors, and vents. These people are RESILLIANT though. Like you wouldn't believe. Our one patient who lost over double her blood volume during surgery was vented for only 12 hours, and walking out of the ICU back to a regular bed shortly after.

That is cray. They would likely spend weeks in ICU in Canada. We don't have weeks and weeks to spare on the ship though, and somehow, by the grace of God, weeks aren't needed.

Well, the next part of the story sounds a bit boring. It's the part that I do. It's the day to day care on the wards while the patients recuperate. For some patients it takes a day or two, and they're heading home, for others it can take longer. Most require nutritional supplements to help their body heal faster. It's washing, and medicating, and emptying catheters. Yay! Excitement!

But, did I mention this is the Africa Mercy? We don't do boring. We do spontaneous dance parties, and wagon races, and basketball, and arts and crafts, and worship, and movie nights. Yes, WITH our patients. This job is AWESOME.

Deck 7 Sunshine Time!

This tiny wagon is my favourite. It's even better when there's a slightly-too-big kid squished in it.

Eventually, our patients will go home, or they will go to the HOPE Center for a little more TLC, then get home from there. Tiny walkers and all.

Well, I hope this has given you a bit of an idea what a visit to the ship is like from the other side of the stretcher. I shall leave you with this dripping-with-cool photo of a patient who had a hole instead of a nose before his visit:

So. Cool.

Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight! And...good morning! If it's morning.