Sunday 7 September 2008

Imagine...

This weekend I have been working again with the ladies with vaginal fistulas. This morning we had our church service and alaso a dress ceremony for 4 of our ladies who have had surgery, and are now 'dry'. It was a beautiful morning, The ward was packed with crew and all the patients from the wards. 4 red chairs had pride of place for those having their dress ceremony. The service began with the distant beat of an African drum, as the ladies came down the corridor. They had been spending time getting their new clothes, make up and jewellry on - a gift to signify their new start and how precious they are. As they came in the ward dressed up to the nines in vivid coloured fabrics, the worship continued.
Imagine - 26 years since having a baby and leaking urine constantly since then. Repeated surgeries failing, being disowned and rejected by family and friends. This was was the story of one of our ladies today. She is a muslim. Beautifully tall and elegant in her new clothes she told her story, all the time thanking God. She is now dry. A lady with a strong personality, she knows her mind. Everyone she knew warned her that Mercy Ships is a Christian Ship and that because of that she shouldn't go. Knowing she might finally have an operation to heal her, she ignored them and battled to come. She told us how she had vowed that if God healed her on the ship, she would become a Christian. Her husband, would disown her. Today she told us that was the decision she had made, because God was the one who created her, so He was the one she wanted to follow. I have never seen such commitment ever. Now she may suffer rejection for a different reason, yet she still chose it.

On the other side of the ward is my beautiful 'little girl'. Not such a happy story. She has a small childlike voice, her features so pretty yet so young, dimples in her beautiful cheeks. She is 19 and aptly named 'Baby'. She developed a tear between her bladder vagina and urethra. Not only has this girl lost a baby at so young an age, a baby growing likely in a far too underdeveloped body, she has been leaking urine and faeces. She has had very complex surgery, and has is still leaking urine and occasionally faeces too. Most of the time she giggles and laughs. We paint her toenails and giggle at the songs from the movie 'Madagascar'...that's what really get s me, she is still a child at heart, the youngest of 9 children I believe. Then I have to change her 'adult diaper' and the harsh reality of her situation comes flooding back to us both. She recounts stories of her frinds laughing and teasing her. My heart breaks a little bit more everytime she speaks. She breaks down in tears at her situation, and the worst of it is that the surgeons have come to the point where there is nothing more that they can do. All I can do is pray and cry with her, not knowing what her future holds.

19. Lost a baby. May never be able to have a child again. May never have anyone who wants to come near them. I have it good, really good.

These are the moments that break my heart over and over again, but oh what a privelage to do what I can do - pray and hope and love each of my beautiful ladies with all my heart. Sometimes that is all I can do.

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