Yesterday at work

Yesterday I prepared one of my ladies to go for surgery to remove a massive goiter from her neck. The ladyhad such a beautiful smile, and despite her nerves she just couldn't stop saying how happy she was. Her English was remarkable, and as I took her down to the seating area outside the theatres, her breathing became a little quiverry. We sat down on the bench and I reminded her that God was with her, and that soon the massive swelling would be gone. The operating room nurse arrived and after we had completed our final checks, we offered to pray with her. She prayed fervently as we prayed, and went into the anaesthetic room with a huge smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
She returned to the ward following her operation, very sleepy, her now 'flat' neck pulsating slightly (something which I have had to learnt not to freak out about!!). She had quite a lot going on with medication and drains so I sat at her bedside. She looked so content. As she stirred I asked her if she would like to see herself in the mirror. I brought her the mirror and she took a deep breath and as she looked, her eyes filled, and she let out a quivering breath. A huge sleepy smile crept across her face and she whispered 'thank God thank God' as her hands rested at her sides and she dozed off back to sleep.
I love sharing these moments of deep realisation with people.

We have another little girl who arrived 2 days ago. As I type she is having her 2nd unit of blood before her surgery (not usually done!), such is her condition that she need this before her operation. She has a massive neurofibroma tracking from her backside down below her knee. It looks as though she has an extra hip, it is so swollen with the tumour. She has the same type of tumor on her forehead the size of a tennis ball. This young girl (she says she is about 10) arrived and was left at the ship by her family. She speaks French, but Kpele French, and so has been consequently been plunged into a completely alien environment, cold noisy and without being able to understand a word anyone says to her. Our 'charades' skills are paramount...Her admission process took 3 hours, using 2 translators to translate to French then her language. It was found that she also has Malaria right now. Usually that would mean cancelling surgery for a few days, but in her case, time is key.
Yesterday, as she was lying in her bed, on her side because she cannot rest on the massive pungently smelling tumour, she lay quiet as a mouse her eyes empty - I am sure her head was buzzing. She occasionally ventured to the bathroom, others in the ward aware of the odour of her wounds. I was determined that I would not allow my shift to go by with her being left to snooze quietly.
Determined to find something we could do together, I went and got a pack of beads and bracelet/necklace thread and some play doh. I sat down beside her bed and grinned, racking my brain for my few words of French, I asked her how she was and introduced myself. I then started to show her how to make the necklace. She shyly copied what I had done. I was called off to do some other work but a little later we picked up where we left off. Conscious that this little girl probably has been suffering rejection emotionally and particularly physically, I made every effort to be aware of giving her a pat on the hand, a rub on the back and a tickle under the chin as I tied the necklace around her neck. That was the moment she squezzed out a little smile.
She will have the tumour mostly removed today. Crew spent a long time last night donating 10 units of blood, the tumour itself bleeding before the surgery has even started. Now we can only hope and pray for a positive outcome.