A Scattering of Random Thoughts...

Writer’s block. Isn’t that what they call it when you’re welling up inside with words, stories, and experiences, but unable to get them out and onto paper. I have had such a week full of joy, singing, heartache, pain, healing, teaching, blessing, and laughter that I don’t know where or how to begin. Perhaps the best way to relay some of my pent-up inner thoughts is to spew them out as randomly as they are continuing to flash through my mind.

I thought I would begin with a humorous collection of the quirks of Mercy Ships life that I've labeled, "You know you're a Mercy-Shipper if..."

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy experiencing it:

“You Know You’re a Mercy Shipper if…”


1) Your idea of a luxurious shower morphs into one where you can keep the water running for 5 whole minutes.
2) Flexibility is the theme word of every department at every given moment.
3) “Plan” or “timeframe” are relative words.
4) You startle from your dreams, thinking you’ve heard “This is a drill, this is a drill, this is a drill” being announced overhead.
5) You find that mechanical noises and engine hums lull you to sleep.
6) Breakfast is just not breakfast without your daily Nutella on a freshly baked croissant (Thank you Albert, our German baker!).
7) You are considered an “expert” if you claim you have done something “once or “twice” or make any reference to something being familiar.
8) If (as an American) you begin “queuing” in line to take your patients up the “lift” or take the “rubbish” out.
9) Figuring out a task is “easy” due to the simple fact that the instructions are in English.
10) You find yourself startled by silence.

And for all my nursing friends:

“You Might be a Mercy Ships Nurse if..”



1) Having pre-filled saline flushes makes you want to dance for joy (Otherwise- you draw up every single one from a bottle/bag of NS with your 10 ml syringe and 18g needle!).
2) “Infection Control” means keeping patients from sharing drinking glasses and bedpans. We’re shooting for the big goals, really! 
3) You find yourself learning 5 different words for the same supply or skill you thought you already knew the name for.
4) Music and dancing become a daily shift activity.
5) Giving report/handover often takes nurse to nurse cultural translation. (ex. “Obs” vs. “vital signs”, “bluies” vs. “chux”, “IV catheters” vs. “IV’s” etc).
6) Trips outside to play with your patients on tricycles or with games of Connect 4 are part of a regular “treatment” plan.
7) You begin forgetting the trade names of all the drugs you know, and begin calling all acetaminophen (Tylenol), “paracetamol”.
8) You are considered “experienced”, ready to help the “newbies” if you have been on the ward 2 weeks or more.
9) Your brain grimaces every time you try to make sense of your patient’s temperature in Celcius.
10) You find yourself planning twice the amount of time it takes to complete a task to leave room for the 2 or 3 part translation process.
11) You begin making hand gestures with every word you speak to your patients.
12) You know you are the walking blood bank for your patients and live on ship, ready to donate at any time.

Random Quotes/Revelations:

-White people’s hair is not as strong as African hair… I found out first-hand as some children attempted to braid/cornroll my hair at the Hope Center and I felt it breaking. I now have a number of 2 inch long pieces of hair at the top of my head… a lesson learned.
-My African friend, James So, (from Benin) commented one day: “Anna! I’ve been looking for you like an American Visa!”
-It never stops making me laugh when I hear patients say, “I need to piss" (the Krio word for urinating). Or, when you are asking a translator to teach the patient to swish and swallow their chlorihexidine mouthwash for mouth care after surgery, the say "take medicine and swishy swishy". Too funny.
-When a sweet little “Christophe” smile and giggle never gets old. And the request of “Anna- moosik!” (meaning he wants me to play my ipod).
-The amazing prayers I have heard the local Sierra Leonians pray… “Father- we appreciate you (when have I ever heard anyone pray like that). With you, nothing is impossible. Tenky, tenky (thank you, thank you in Krio). We give you all de glory.”
- “When I die, I want to be known as ‘de one who loved de pekins too much’”. (Pekins (peekins) is Krio for children). One of the mama’s of one of our patients was telling another woman that on Mercy Ships we “loved the pekins too much”. I think I can live with that.



Finally, on a more serious note, some reflections I've had recently...

Giving Thanks on the Ward.

“Patient surveys” have been a new addition to our admission and discharge forms for each patient admitted to the ward, and with them have come feedback from patients. While at home in America I was very used to seeing these types of feedback forms from the patients we cared for, I hadn’t ever seen the West-African version. As I read through the feedback messages from the patients, one after the other repeated essentially the same thing. “God/Jesus has done a wonderful thing for me through Mercy Ships.” Or “God has healed me. Thank you Mercy Ships.” As I read over them, I found myself feeling disappointed that no specific nurses or names of other healthcare providers were mentioned. Then, as if hit by a brick wall, I realized the source of my disappointment. It was the fact that we (as nurses) were not praised or thanked as I was very used to in my Western-culture, customer-satisfaction centered, American hospital. Instead, people were praising and thanking God alone for what He had done for them. It wasn’t about us. It was about the person who was in and behind us. I was so humbled by that I had to simply stop and thank God for my brothers and sisters in Sierra Leone who “got it right”. Thanking the Creator, rather than the created. Such a privilege to be used by Him.