Chapters

  I listen to this podcast called No Dumb Questions. In one episode, one of the hosts explained something that really stood out to me. Life isn't a series of books. It's not a collection of stories with distinct beginnings and endings. It's one long, unfolding story. It's a book with many chapters. 

  When one chapter ends, it can feel like the story is over. It can be hard to see what might come next. Like coming to the end of a book; it can feel like there's going to be a hole in your life that the story used to fill. You've gotten to know the characters; to love them, even. To love sharing in the adventure with them. It's hard to close the cover for the last time.

  But this podcast host, who was moving his whole family to a new state and new job, had realized that this major goodbye was not the end of a story, it was simply the end of a chapter. All it would take was a turn of a page, and the story would continue. Yes, the characters might be in a different place. Some may not be in the story as much. Some new ones may appear. Some may have grown. If it's a good story...there better be some character growth! But it isn't the end. It's just setting up for the next thrilling twist of the adventure. 

  I am coming to the end of a chapter. My time at Mercy Ship's has been incredible. It has been full of challenges. It has woven so many beautiful experiences and characters into my story. Some of those story threads are still unwinding. All of them have taught me, shaped me, molded me, weathered me into someone different than I was before. 

  There has been heartbreak and healing. I've learned so much about how to love. To really love. The way Jesus did. But boy do I still have a lot to learn. 

  And that is why, although there is some sadness in my heart, there is also great anticipation. 

  I don't know what is next. 

  I haven't quite turned the last page yet. 

  But I can make out, ever so faintly, the words on the page behind the one I'm on. There is a beautiful mystery in it. It's thrilling and emboldening to know that the Author has already pencilled them in. With creativity and care and so much love. 

  I can't wait to read them.

  I can't wait to live them. 

  For everyone in this little book club, thank you. Thank you for being part of my story. 

  I'll see you in the next chapter.

À la prochaine,

   -D

What It Takes

Well hello there! And hi again from Senegal!

This is me moonlighting in the lab, which has been a fun addition to my usual office routine this week. They're running a bit short staffed, and just across the hall from me, so I've been able to add 'packaging tumor samples for trans-atlantic transport to the pathologist' and 'blood bank assistant' to my resume. 

Back in December, as I mentioned in my last post, the AFM (Africa Mercy) sailed to Tenerife to meet up with big sister GLM (Global Mercy). After many of us moved to the GLM, we Celebrated Christmas and New Years while transferring equipment, unpacking, repacking, polishing, re-installing, troubleshooting, and hosting contractors to get the ship operational. Literally. We also had a little bit of downtime and some wonderful reunions. 

Now that we're a couple months in, I thought it would be a good time to talk about just what it takes to get a brand new ship ready and rolling in action for a surgical field service.

Ward Leadership Team near the end of Senegal 2022

What does it take?

It takes...this many people to pass the hospital baton from one ship to another. 

Both ships' crew gathered together on the dock in Tenerife!

It takes this many people (and a mountain) to make my heart full.

A day to explore the other-worldly plateau near Mt. Teide - Spain's highest peak. 

It takes this many wagons to keep ortho patients entertained. 

Wonderful ward nurse Caroline tests out some of the new equipment for patient recreation.

It takes this many wires and connections to get complete cross-section imaging of the body.

Biomedical technician Deborah gets the new CT Scanner working.

It takes this many toys to keep the doldrums away from the wards.

It takes 5 crash carts that we hope and pray to never need.  

Wonderful ward team leader Ansley builds crash carts from scratch.

It takes joyous reunions with incredibly hard-working Senegalese team members.

Day crew who worked on my ward last year, back for another field service!

It takes a whole lot of nurses and translators from around the world!

It takes scrubbing and redecorating to welcome patients back into the HOPE Center.

It takes 2 platforms to raise up the gangway to a traversable height. 

Actually, the platform on the left has since been upgraded with a nice, long, gentle ramp. 

It takes 2 hospital evacuation drills (don't worry, no actual patients were harmed in the process), and a TON of work to plan from scratch the best way to evacuate a 2-deck hospital with no gangway access on the OR level.

An 'intubated patient' is carried down the very steep stairs.
This is why they got replaced with a ramp.

It takes prayer. A lot of prayer. Every day.

The hospital was commissioned with a prayer walk-through of every patient space.

And then at last...the real work can begin. 

The first patient to receive surgery on the GLM.

And then it still takes energy every day to keep those cast-bound kiddos from going stir-crazy.

Play time on the patient veranda

It takes this many people to run a hospital on a ship.

It takes 3 times as many to run a ship that has a hospital on it. 

I am incredibly blessed to have been part of this ground-breaking work. It has not been easy. There have been roadblocks thrown at us from all directions. And there is still much ahead. 
It takes a lot more than what I could possibly capture in one post, or with a hundred photos. But we are here. Patients are receiving surgery. Senegalese and Gambian professionals are receiving training. 

Kingdom work is happening. 

GLM Hospital Leadership Team 2023

As I approach the end of this field service in July, I know I will be winding down for a substantial break. I don't know yet how long that break will be, where it will take me, or if I will return. 

If you are the praying kind, I would ask for your prayer for discernment and direction over these next months. 

Thank you all for walking this journey with me.

Á la prochaine,
    -D

The Middle

 Hello.

I didn't forget that this blog exists.

I've just been stuck in the middle for a while.

In the middle of a crisis, or of a break, or a journey, or a transition. Always in the middle of something.

At this exact moment, I'm in the middle of a hammock, in the middle of the Atlantic in the middle of a journey between Tenerife and Dakar. So although I'm still in the middle of something, it's at least something that gives me a good opportunity to write an update. 

Last year's field service in Senegal wrapped up well. It was a seemingly never-ending challenge, with last-minute changes and scrambles to get our patients all safely home, but God got us all safely through it. 

I also ended the year in the middle of two jobs. I was asked to step over into a new role, as Hospital Quality Manager. Officially, this starts this year, but I started helping with some of the more time-sensitive pieces back in October. I'm grateful for a job that will allow me to still spend a little time in the wards where I love working best, but without being 100% in the people zone all the time. My enneagram 5 self is looking forward to a bit less of a constant drain on my social energy. As 'HQM', I'll be 'facilitating' a lot of things...policy updates, clinical incident reviews, implementation of measures to improve patient outcomes; things like that. Lots of spreadsheets; which I don't mind.

Once I moved over to my shiny new home, the Global Mercy, I officially took over that role for the hospital here. Oh yeah, and my parents came for a lovely visit!!

Both ships sittin' pretty together in Tenerife!

Mom & Dad on the GLM

This hospital is brand new, and years of planning have culminated in these last couple months of preparation for its first field service. There's plenty to figure out still, but it's incredible to see how much has been accomplished. The obstacles have been enormous, too. COVID, immigration snafus, and the latest wrench in the works, affectionately nicknamed by our Managing Director, 'PBBPP.' Or in other words, 'Project Bring Back Peppa Pig.' 

We were without internet (and most of our information systems) for nearly a month. Some of the kids really missed their Peppa Pig, among other things. Here's where I quote the company line, to make sure I don't say anything I shouldn't. "We detected a threat to our IS systems, and our team quickly responded. It takes some time to completely assess what was impacted, and we are in the process of slowly and carefully bringing our systems back online." 

So that was fun...in the ramp-up to another 5 months of surgery we lost access to our policies & procedures that guide us (all hosted online), our digital patient database (requiring networking), printing capability, simple phone communications....the list goes on and on and on. Instead of updating our existing protocols, we've spent the past few weeks creating brand new work processes to be able to do everything we normally do without relying entirely on technology, and without compromising patient safety. 

'Ted' testing out our ICU facilities

The hospital team in the operating room as we walked through our patient flow processes from start to finish.

Gratefully, we've seen great plans fall into place in case our systems are still impacted, but also answers to prayer as the most critical systems have been restored. 

Sailing alongside the AFM before she heads off for maintenance in South Africa

And so, with great uncertainty only a week ago, we are now confidently cruising our way towards Dakar for the GLM's inaugural field service. It's a little shorter than most, with a gradual ramp-up as we're adapting all our usual processes to a brand-new environment. 

And that's not all that's new!

Some of our patients from last field service will be back for follow-up, while most will be new (our patient selection team has been working hard in-country to find the people who can benefit most from free surgery). Most excitingly, some of these new patients will also be coming from a different country: the Gambia!

The Gambia is a really unique nation which is nestled entirely within the middle of Senegal (with the exception of a tiny bit of coastline). Its flag represents the Gambia river which runs directly along the middle of this little country. I'm really looking forward to meeting and learning from the Gambian people over these next few months. The two countries have a close partnership, and are sometimes jointly referred to as 'Senegambia.' And of course, as is the case with this entire part of the world, so many people groups have homes and identities which ignore political borders. Their community is where their language is spoken, and that's never been constrained by imaginary lines. 

I'll look forward to my next opportunity to report how things are going once we're back in country and surgeries are happening!

Until then, a la prochaine,

-D