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My first week in Africa and I decided to partake in the annual race to the summit of Mt. Cameroon (4,040m). This consisted of 26 miles of running with more than 10,000 feet of elevation gain over technical volcanic rock. “Good” idea. The first place athlete finished in 4 hours and 30 minutes. After a long seven hours of running and reaching about 2/3 of the summit it was an easy decision to turn back and call it a day for my own safety. It was an easy decision made by several hours of being continually humbled. Runners of literally all ages – teenagers, and those well into their 50s, maybe even 60s – continually passed me. Some athletes were running in jellies (cheap sandals), or old Nike or Adidas shoes with the soles flapping off with every step. I consider myself an athlete back home but here I was clearly redefined as a race participant. But this was a taste of the grit that I saw firsthand of the people of Cameroon. 

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This was one example, but it was the next two months that followed where I would see the toughness of the people in Cameroon. From patients just needing acetaminophen before receiving anesthesia for their surgery, to patients barely needing any morphine for pain relief hours after their surgery. For them, this surgery was a piece of cake compared to the years of pain they have been living with. For them, this is their finish line and the journey has already been overcome. A new life begins. 

My story begins with Yaya, but it is her story that began 10 years ago, filled with grief, hopelessness, and isolation. She lives in the far north of Cameroon and when she heard there was an international ship providing free healthcare and surgery coming to the port of Douala, there was a glimmer of hope for her future. Ten years ago a tumor started to form in her jaw that started small but slowly grew to the size of a cantaloupe. She did not have enough money to pay for surgery, but worse, she could not even find someone who could even perform it. This was the problem in Cameroon and much of impoverished areas of Africa: the lack of access to healthcare and surgical procedures. However, a hospital ship full of volunteers from around the world representing 40 nations was docked and ready to serve. Yaya could feel her life starting to change as she made her way up the gangway onto the ship. It had been a long journey for her, literally and figuratively, to come to the ship. Her hope and new life was beginning. Healing was to come. 

 

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Mercy Ships is an organization that follows the 2,000-year-old model of Jesus, bringing hope and healing to the forgotten poor. It has the largest non-governmental hospital ship called the Africa Mercy. The ship has six operating rooms and 80 hospital beds, with enough space to have roughly 450 crewmembers living on ship. Every year the ship stops in a nation, typically in West Africa, to serve for 10 months before going to the next one. They perform surgeries like cleft palate and cleft lip repair, tumor removals, orthopedics, plastics, burn contracture releases, obstetrical fistula repairs, ophthalmic, and dentistry. They also aim to improve the infrastructure, and do medical capacity building to help leave the country more independent and prepared. Volunteers from all around the world pay for their own way to travel to the ship and for their own crew fees that cover housing/meals. Some serve two weeks, two months, two years, or over two decades. There are singles, couples, families, and over 40 children attending the Mercy Ships Academy onboard.  

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So why would one consider making the sacrifice of volunteering their time and money to work on a ship so far from home? There are many reasons individually, but what makes the ship and my experience so special has been seeing the love that people have for what they do and love for serving people in need. It is like no other hospital I have ever been in. First of all, it is a ship! But other than this obvious fact, the culture of happiness, joy, and healing are present daily on the wards. People volunteer to do every job it takes to run a hospital ship. All the nurses, doctors, and surgeons volunteer. Oftentimes, they get the spotlight, but really it is all the other jobs that make a hospital function, such as housekeeping, engineering, pharmacy, lab, IT, crew galley, and engine staff that keep the ship running smoothly. And volunteers staff every one of those jobs. It really makes for an amazing group of people who all share the same common goal humbly work and help people in need.

My two months was spent working as a ward nurse on the maxillofacial post-op unit. And in those two months, I built amazing friendships with people from all over the world; some I will truly miss. Some I know I will likely never see again, including Yaya.

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Yaya was one of my many patients, but was so memorable for her character and happy attitude. She spoke a local dialect called “Fulfude,” so it was a challenge communicating with her as it took two translators – English to French, then French to Fulfude. But even then we still were able to make a connection. I was primarily taking care of her after her second surgery where they took a piece of her iliac crest to do a bone graft to her new jaw where they had already removed the tumor and placed titanium hardware. She was soft spoken, but behind her quiet character was someone who laughed and goofed around with me all the time. I remember using the utility elevator in the ship for the first time. I didn’t know how to open the door once we were inside to let us out. Yaya was having a wondrous time laughing at my inability to get us out of the metal box. She was soaking the gauze dressings under her chin from all the uncontrollable laughter and drool. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but definitely a memorable one I really cherish.  

 

 

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It is with her story that I hope a better humanity is revealed – a reality where it is possible to change the world. Perhaps not the world entirely, but one person’s reality and the world can be changed. And hopefully then it spreads like wildfire.

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