Story of Benedict

I'm reprinting a story of one our young patients that was posted on our intranet. We have a PR department and the story and photos are by staff members in that department.

16 July, 2007 — Liberia Field Service
Story: Mike Osborne
Photos: Debra Bell
© 2007 Mercy Ships Int’l.

16 July – Benedict Menkoah is one tough little boy. But if you think Benedict is tough, wait till you meet his big sister! Determination runs in the family.

Benedict suffered a birth defect that doctors refer to as bi-lateral club feet. In the womb, the boy’s feet turned so far inward the toes were left facing each other. His feet also rolled forward, leaving the soles facing upward.

Now nine, Benedict has learned to walk on the curled-under tops of his feet. It’s hard to watch him shuffle along. It looks so painful. But it’s clear from the calluses on his feet – rock hard knots of scarred and discolored flesh where the heel should land – that the handicap hasn’t managed to slow Benedict down too much.

His sister Beatrice, 26, says Benedict refuses to surrender to his handicap. She notes his love of soccer by way of example. He continues to play the game even though he rarely gets anywhere near the ball; he runs and falls, gets up again, runs and falls, gets up again.

When he’s not playing soccer, he’s climbing trees. Perhaps it’s more peaceful up there…high above all the people who laugh and call him hook-foot.

Benedict gets angry when people say things like that. Sometimes he even gets in fights over it. Beatrice gets a little angry too. When asked to describe what Benedict has endured, her eyes flash fire; she’s suddenly talking much louder and very fast. She’s especially hurt by the way her family has treated Benedict.

Their father has two wives and a total of sixteen children. Benedict is the youngest. When the extent of his birth defect became clear, Benedict’s father lost all interest in him and much of the family followed suit.

Beatrice eventually became so concerned about this neglect, that she brought Benedict to stay with her. They now live about a 90-minute drive from Liberia’s capital city, Monrovia, in a small community with the unlikely name of Taste-No-Smell.

In a country where eight people in ten are out of work, Beatrice managed to find a job. She teaches at a school operated by the YMCA of Liberia. She continues trying to better herself, taking computer classes in the evening.

Still, her meager salary would never have stretched far enough to provide corrective surgery for Benedict’s feet, so they were both excited when the Mercy Ship arrived in Liberia. The pair attended an orthopedic screening and Benedict was accepted to receive a free operation on the floating hospital.

As the surgery date rolled around, Beatrice realized she didn’t even have enough money for bus fare into the capital. She asked her eldest brother for the fare but he refused. He told her to forget about the surgery and leave Benedict as he was.

But Beatrice was determined and defied her elder brother, vowing she would get Benedict to the Mercy Ships for surgery even if she had to carry him there. Her defiance may eventually prove costly. The eldest brother becomes family patriarch when their father dies.

Beatrice finally talked an older sister into providing bus fare, and Benedict was one of the first patients to receive orthopedic surgery onboard the Africa Mercy. An operation to correct his left foot was completed without complication and Benedict spent a few days on the recovery ward.

Beatrice said of the free surgery Benedict received, “I couldn’t do it myself. I didn’t have the means. It was too big. So I say thank you. God bless you.”

Benedict is going to need every ounce of his determination to get through the next year. He’s working with Mercy Ships physical therapists now to learn how to walk on his newly corrected left foot; a slow and painful process.

Early next year he’ll have to travel to the neighboring nation of Sierra Leone, the ship’s next port of call. There he’ll have the right foot straightened and the process of learning to walk will begin all over again.

But there’s little doubt Benedict will succeed. After all, he’s just as tough as his big sister. Determination runs in the family.

Our Patients

We have some amazing patients here on the ward and when you hear their stories, you think that they just can't be true. Stories I couldn't dream up if I tried. Women who were in obstructed labor for days on end, alone, out in the bush (that means basically in the forest or the woods) while surrounded by rebels as young as 9 years old who are trying to kill them. That is the same story for many, many of the ladies I've cared for. It sounds like the plot of a horrific movie.

Our ships surgeons have done amazing work and our latest VVF surgeon, Dr. Brian, is no exception. He took on some fistula repairs over the last two weeks that he didn't know if he could fix. Some he could and some he couldn't. Many fistulas are easy for our surgeons to fix and many are beyond repair. I've been caring for one lady named Fatamata who is 30 years old. She was in obstructed labor for 8 days. With any lengthy, obstructed labor, the baby dies after the first two or so days but even after the baby dies, it can still take many more days to give birth. Fatamata came to the ship last time it was in Liberia and the doctors told her they couldn't fix her. She tried to kill herself right there on the dock in front of the ship. She came back again this year and Dr. Brian said he would try but he wasn't able to fix all the damage. She will live the remainder of her life leaking urine and living with all that means (skin breakdown, smelling horrible, an outcast). Please pray for her as we all have been doing. She has received much counseling from our chaplains and counselors but we just have to put her in God's hands and know he loves her more than we ever could.

In contrast to Fatamata, I've been caring for a spunky, older woman named Mary. Once I told her that was my mom's name, she has called me 'her daughter.' She was fixed by Dr. Brian and we had her dress ceremony today. For an hour, we sang worship songs to God, she gave her testimony, she hugged all of us and thanked us and I got to present her with her new Bible, a bar of soap and a mirror all representing new life. Every dress ceremony is unbelievably emotional.

During the ceremony, I sat on one of the beds and I just kept looking between Fatamata (who was watching the ceremony) and Mary - just back and forth. And I just couldn't grasp the 'why' of this whole situation. I was so happy for Mary and then would just feel so sad for Fatamata. This happens in every dress ceremony - we celebrate for those who are physically healed but there are always one or two who can't be healed at the same time. Just so you know, all women are invited to participate in the dress ceremony, not just the ones who are physically healed. I don't know if Fatamata will.

Anyways, I don't have any answers and I'm not going into all the theological reasons on why God allows bad things to happen. I know all those answers but on days like this, it isn't enough. So I just continue to pray and know that I will never be the same.

The Orphanage and Pizza!

Saturday I was able to venture off the ship again. Saturday morning, a group of 11 crew went to God's Childrens Home which is an orphanage run by a lady named Mama Vera. The orphanage has about 50 awesome kids! I don't have any pictures so I can only describe it. It is a Mercy Ships policy that we cannot take photos at any of the ministry places because we don't want them to feel like they are a tourist attraction.

I guess when I pictured an orphanage, I thought of ones I had read about in China where there are too many kids with too few caregivers and babies in cribs that never receive any attention or love. This place is the opposite of what I expected. While the facility certainly isn't a five-star hotel, it is clean and meets the needs of the kids.

Each bedroom has 15 bunks (three high) with mosquito nets over each bunk and windows to the outside. Then there is one large room where we played with the kids. There is also a place to eat, a school and a playing field but I didn't see that part. We sang, told Bible stories, played games and just hung out. One of our crew members is a clown and he made balloon animals which was a huge hit.

As soon as we walked in, we were each swarmed with tons of children hanging on to us. These kids are well-loved, well-fed and had smiles on their faces. I plan on going back every other Saturday (I have to work the other Saturdays) to really build some relationships with the kids.

After the orphanage, I went with a group to a restaurant called Mona Lisa to celebrate a birthday and my roommate Michelle's going away. It was a really nice restaurant - like something we would eat at in the States. This restaurant serves ice cream, pastries and real food! I actually got to eat pizza and it tasted exactly how I would expect pizza to taste. One of the problems with the food here on the ship is that you expect something to taste a certain way (like spaghetti) but when you bite into it, it has a completely different taste. I'm mostly living on peanut butter.

The taxi rides to and from the restaurant were very eventful (and tiring). They jam as many people as they can possibly get into one taxi and it is sooooo hot. Plus they have the radio blaring. And for some reason, taxi drivers won't pick up white people so we always have to have someone who is just hanging out on the street to get us a taxi and then we have to pay that person. Plus it takes two different taxis to get there.

On the way to the restaurant, my poor roommate Michelle got smashed into the middle of the front seat and the Liberian to her right tried to get her to go out with him the entire time. He just wouldn't take no for an answer. Then he was going to hang out in front of the restaurant to wait for her to finish her meal. I'm not sure what she said to get rid of him but he finally left.

As much as I enjoyed the pizza, the taxi rides almost make it not worth the effort. It will probably be awhile before I head out on an outing that requires a taxi.

My roommate Michelle (from Chicago) left Monday after being here for six months. She was ready to go home. We got another roommate named Joy from Ireland the same day Michelle left. It is now Thursday and I still haven't met her. It just shows how different our schedules are since nurses work shifts that cover 24 hours in a day. My room now has representatives of all of Great Britain (Scotland, Wales, England and Ireland) plus two of us Americans.

I have a few more photos of areas on the ship:

Here's the dining room. Meals are only between certain hours and you don't have much choice on what you eat. It's the same food every day and for every meal except the main dish varies each day. Breakfast is always only cereal or bread. I only make it to breakfast on weekends because they don't serve lunch on the weekends. We have to make our lunch at breakfast time. For me, that means peanut butter sandwiches.

Here's a view of my cabin from the front door. There are three cubbie holes, each with two bunks, a wardrobe, a fold-up desk and a four-shelf bookcase on the wall. The first two cubbies are maybe about 6' x 7'. I live in the penthouse (as my roommate calls it) in the back. It is maybe about 9'x9' and its desk doesn't fold-up because there is actually enough room to have it stay open. In the other two cubbies, if you unfold the desk, then there is zero walking space. You can also see our clothesline on the right where we hang wet clothes. There is also a small bathroom as you walk in the front door.

Here is the internet cafe. There are 21 computers here. We also have wireless abilities in our cabins and in the lounge areas.

Here's another view of the internet cafe. There is a lounge area next to it as well as on the other side (where I'm standing as I took the photo). There is also a lounge area directly below on deck 5.

Here's my roommate Megan at Starbucks cafe. It is the only official Starbucks in West Africa. Each ingredient in a drink is $.25 so my usual latte costs $.75. To the left of Starbucks is the Ship Shoppe. It's not very big but has toiletries, food and gifts.

We like to joke about how we are suffering for Jesus. In all seriousness, there are so many people in the world who are suffering because of their love for Jesus. However, while we might be doing mission work for God, you don't need to feel sorry for us - the extent of our suffering is our two-minute shower limitation and the lamb that they serve 2-3 days a week.

Oh, I gotta go - the fire alarm just went off (it's a drill) so we have to muster on the dock (and it's pouring down rain:(

Peace,

Michele

Random pictures

Thanks everyone for your emails and prayers for the crew. It has been a difficult week here on the ship. So, in light of that, I'm posting just some random, fun photos of friends I've met on the ship.
Megan (r) and Michelle - two of my 5 roommates. Megan is from Bucks County, PA (apparently the best place on the planet:) and Michelle is from the Chicago area. Megan is here for one year and Michelle leaves on Monday. Both are nurses.

This is Dorothy, another roommate and nurse. She is from Canada but originally from England. A cake to celebrate her birthday - notice the fake candles since we can't have any kind of fire on board. I have two other roommates (no photos yet) - Jo (nurse) is from Wales and Sarah (doctor) is from Australia (but originally from England).

Some of the nurses I work with: Helene from Germany, Sandra from New Zealand, Melanie, Crystal and Laura, all from the U.S.

This is Captain Jurryan (r) who is in charge of the ship and crew. He doesn't usually dress this formally except for special events and meeting dignitaries which happens quite frequently. The former president of Liberia was here on the ship two days ago for a tour. I never saw him but I wondered why there were so many UN peacekeepers on the dock with their guns.

Here is Megan with one of our VVF patients, Quata. Quata has been here for over one month as she has some open wounds that have not healed very quickly. Unfortunately, her surgery did not work and she has to return in October for another attempt. She's pretty quiet but had quite the laugh at me last evening while I was attempting to feed the 6 month old baby of one our patients. It didn't go so well.

This photo was taken by our Mercy Ships photographer. The middle girl is Mary who is 17 and spent about 3 weeks on the ward. She had extensive damage that we couldn't repair. She will also return in October and hopefully we can fix her. She lost her baby during childbirth and then ended up with so much damage that she constantly leaks urine and feces. I can't imagine facing that kind of life at only 17.

Here is Dr. Steve and six of the ladies he repaired. They are in the new dresses they received at the Dress Ceremony which symbolizes new life.

Patients waiting in line for eye screenings. We do about 20 or so eye surgeries per day.

Another screening in front of the ship.









That's all for now. I'm going to an orphanage tomorrow to play with the kids so I'll have photos of that this weekend.

Michele

It's been a horrible day

Today has been horrible. One of our crew members drowned today while at the beach with a group of friends. He was 21 years old and from Texas. Please pray for his four friends that witnessed the drowning and his parents and two sisters in Texas. Also pray for all the crew here as he was well-loved and there is so much sadness. It's going to be a really tough week.

Thank you Father that You are in control even when we can't possibly comprehend the 'why' of this. Wrap Your loving arms around his family and friends and draw them close. Thank you that we know that Collin is now in your awesome presence.

Make sure you hug your kids today and tell them you love them.

The Night Shift

I'm working my first night shift tonight and you can tell how busy I am since I'm writing an update here. When I worked nights back home, we rarely had time to sit down so this is very different. We can even sleep for an hour or so if we need to - we'd get fired for that in the States. I guess things are different when they aren't paying you.

I have orthopedic patients and children tonight, neither of whom I am comfortable with. My twelve year old patient David had a club foot repaired. Club feet are relatively common in the U.S. but we fix them when they are babies. Here, they can only get it fixed if they happen to get to a Mercy Ship. Mercy Ships generally focuses on kids with club feet rather than adults - mainly to give kids a better chance at life and adult repairs are more difficult and require ongoing care. Here are two little ones with club feet that will have repairs done sometime in the next two weeks.



Another of our younger patients is 11 year old Jarwee. He actually came to the ship for his surgery alone - really...he traveled from his village to the ship alone. He arrived a day early as most of them do and he was very shy and scared. A family member came for a short time during his surgery but then left so Jarwee woke up from surgery alone, in pain with a bunch of strangers around. It's just so hard to believe. It makes me think of my 11 year old friend Parker traveling for hours alone to a big city, showing up at a hospital and then going through the admission process, surgery and recovery alone. He's 11. I can't imagine. Jarwee has really opened up to the nurses and is a very playful, ornery kid. He asked his nurse tonight to pray with him at bedtime.

Here's a couple of our younger patients recovering from their club foot repair surgeries. Most of them don't have blocks or puzzles or toys that we are used to so they love our toys.

One of my older patients is 70 year old Mary. She had a repair of a non-union femur bone. Do you know what that means? It means her thigh bone broke in half completely and she has been walking around with that broken leg for 10 years. Yes, she walked here with it. I feel a little bad for her - she's in a ward with 7 little kids.

On another note, we had a Celebration of Sight last Friday for all eye patients. We want eye patients to return to the ship for a follow up exam but most of them won't do it because of the difficulties to get here (cost plus transportation). The eye team decided to have a big celebration to entice people back to the ship and it worked. 185 eye patients returned for the celebration. These 185 people were blind from cataracts and all received their sight back. It was a day of African music, food and eye exams. Here are some pictures from the celebration.

These ladies are all waiting to board the ship. Notice all the sunglasses!

More people waiting to board the ship. We wouldn't be so patient back home if we had to wait in a line like this.

Here's some celebrating.

I better get back to work!
Peace,
Michele

The pediatric hospital

A few days ago, a group of about 20 Mercy Shippers went to the pediatric hospital here in Monvrovia, called Island Pediatric. It is the only pediatric hospital in the country and it is run by Doctors Without Borders. We went to entertain the kids and their mothers for a few hours.

It was both a fun, heartwarming experience as well as a sad and overwhelming experience at the same time. Doctors Without Borders is a wonderful mission organization that brings medical care to the least advantaged people in the world. Unfortunately, they have to work within the limitation of money and resources and the hospital reflects the fact that they are working in one of the poorest countries in the entire world.

Unless you've been to a country like this, it is very difficult to comprehend the magnitude of the poverty. When we think of poverty in the U.S., we often think of areas like the Appalachian regions of Kentucky, W. Virginia, etc. The people in those regions would be considered wealthy by Liberian standards.


We pulled up to the front of the hospital and had to be let in through a gate. There were only two cars in the parking lot which were probably hospital staff cars. Here are two pictures of the entrance.




The hospital is made up of several buildings and the staff have painted the walls to try and give it an upbeat, childlike atmosphere. I have no pictures of inside the hospital as we weren't allowed to take them but, let me tell you, the paint doesn't help. For some reason the place made me think of old prison cellblocks you see in the movies.

The main building was one long corridor and as you walked down the hall, you could look in the rooms (the rooms have no doors). What you generally saw in each small room were 3 - 4 beds with no linens or pillows and mosquito nets hanging over them, a small window that was open to the outside and 2-3 small children lying in each bed with their mothers sitting in the room on the beds. This hospital has 120 beds but usually has 240 kids in there at any given time.

There is no such thing as a private room or television or water pitchers or flowers sent by family/friends or couches or recliners or clean linens daily or a bathroom in the room with running water for drinking. The kids aren't in clean hospital gowns surrounded by toys - they are in whatever clothing their moms brought surrounded by nothing. In the building with the sickest kids, the kids just laid there unresponsive in their beds.

When we arrived, we went out into the courtyard and many of the kids and their moms came out to join us. We each had a project or craft ready - I was in charge of the coloring books and colored pencils. Since I'm not very crafty, I felt like that was all I could handle! Actually, they weren't even coloring books. They were pictures that one of our artist type crew members had drawn that the kids could then color. We also had face painting, bracelet making, stamps, stickers, balloons and kickball.

The kids were so great, smiling and just having fun. I had one child latch on to me right away and he wouldn't let me go anywhere without him. His name is Seku and he is 6 years old. Seku is developmentally delayed and couldn't talk and had some physical disabilities but he smiled the entire time! We sat next to each other and I found out that he could say his ABCs so we did that a lot. But he couldn't say any other kinds of words, not even his name. But then a group of moms started singing a praise song (not started by us as this is a secular-run hospital and we weren't supposed to do anything but entertain the kids) and Seku jumped up and started singing the song - well, kind of. He was singing some words to the tune they were singing but the only word I understood was Jesus. It was the only word I heard him say the whole time.

I met so many kids - Salome, Jibah, David, Blessing...and we had a great time. I got to hold a baby for about 15 minutes while his mom did some of the crafts. They wouldn't let me bring him home, though. When it was time to go, Seku ran up to me and I picked him up - then I swung him around in circles and he laughed hysterically. They had to pull him off me so I could go.

Sadly, while we were all congregated outside in front of the emergency room getting ready to leave, we all knew the doctors and nurses were inside the ER performing CPR on a very tiny baby that was in cardiac arrest while the mom was looking on. We never found out the outcome of that little baby - all I can do is put my faith in the God who created him or her.

This might be a good time to thank God for the healthcare we have in the U.S. despite its flaws. I will never complain again about having to wait in a doctor's office.

Peace, Michele