Right-Side Up

Greetings, from across the pond!

I've been on board the Africa Mercy for a week now, and it probably goes without saying that every week here is packed with eventfulness.

My week consisted of 1 day of orientation/unpacking, 4 day shifts, 1 dress ceremony (where we celebrate the healing and the beauty of our fistula patients), and 1 Canadian Crew night out! Dr. Sherif Emil, a pediatric surgeon from Montréal who is here right now treated (most of) us Canucks to a lovely dinner; all the hosers in one place. You can read all about Dr. Sherif's experiences in the OR here.

Dr. Étienne (L) & Dr. Sherif (R)

It has certainly been a whirlwind of reconnecting with some old friends, seeing some just in passing, and meeting a lot of new and wonderful crew. Oh. And have I mentioned how it still feels weird but wonderful to call a physician by their first name? One of the many ways the communal nature of this workplace reveals itself.

Right now, the singing of day crew and patients is reaching me in my cabin (through several steel doors), and that sound will never cease to put a smile on my face.

Smiles and singing and dancing abound in a dress ceremony from a few weeks ago.

We also had the opportunity this week to gather together with all of the medical teams to hear and share stories from the past month or so. Most were pretty humorous - language and cultural barriers lend themselves to creating ridiculous situations. Like the woman who couldn't understand she needed to stand on the weigh-scale in admissions and repeatedly squatted down on it. One story in particular, however, stood out to me:

Patient D is a man with severe ankylosis - a condition that causes fusion of joints. His jaw was so severely fused that he'd been unable to open his mouth for 19 YEARS. When he was recovered from surgery and had his tight bandages removed for the first time, his reaction was one of pure glee. They had some video of this which we were able to see during a community meeting - and this is no exaggeration. His hands were raised in the air in joy, he repeatedly stretches his mouth open and closed, and though he is difficult to understand (speech is understandably affected when you can't move your jaw for that long), you can hear the release of almost 2 decades of pain, locked away in his own body. Apparently, this went on for over an hour.

It has taken no time to remember why I love it so much here.

Lives are turned right-side up like this every day, and it is just so humbling to be able to witness it.

Just a short little update for you today; more to come.

Á la prochaine, my friends.