Wounded. That is how I feel. I am sick and I am tired. We went a way this weekend because the whole ship had a black out yesterday so we stayed at a beach and it was really nice to be off the ship. The moist, salty air felt good to my wounded lungs.
I have been feeling unrest. Tyrone says it is normal for me right before a big transition. I think he is right. I do get uneasy before my life is going to change drastically. I have been really working on casting my cares upon the Lord and being anxious for nothing. But I still have this feeling of uneasiness.
When we got back from the beach I was listening to a song by JJ Heller that hit me to the core of my anxiety. As she sings this song my heart opens and the unrest slips away. How can I feel anything but peace when I have a God that is all I need? As my lungs burn each time I take a breath I needed to hear her remind me that He lets me catch my breath even in the valley of death. I needed to remember He is All I need.
I don't need a thing
My good shepherd brings me all
You are all I need
You let me catch my breath
Even in the valley of death
You are all I need
All I need to be complete is your love
Your blood that covers me
You lift up my head
You provide the wine and bread
You are all I need
There's no need to fear
Even with my enemies here
You are all I need
All I need to be complete is your love
Your blood that covers me
Goodness and mercy are following me
You are all that I need
You make a home for me
With pastures of green as far as I see
You are all I need
All I need to be complete is your love
Your blood that covers me
Lyrics by JJ Heller
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
It is over
The last 2 weeks have been a fog. I am exhausted, 10 months of an all-out sprint just feels too long... but the joy in my heart says it was worth it.
The wards are closed, the last patients left today, and now it is over.
Exhausted or not, it is over.
The memories have been made, the babies have been healed,
the patients have laughed, cried, and lifted their voices to our God.
The kids have played in the hallways, ran around with stickers on their heads, and given us much needed cuddles.
The women have knitted hats, blankets, and socks.
The men have played countless hours of checkers, Jenga, and Uno.
We have sung
Great things He has done,
Greater things He will do.
Unto the Lord be the glory,
Great things He has done.
and have meant every word.
We have sung
It is raining all around me,
I can feel it,
It's a lot of rain.
I asked Jesus to bring more rain
until we are full,
until we are full of a lot of rain.
And knew it was not talking about water coming from the sky,
but of God Almighty's blessings in our lives.
A ward, B ward, C ward, D ward, and ICU are all packed up.
The halls feel desolate.
I keep waiting to see Micky cruising down the hallway with his makeshift car.
There are no Mama's sitting by the stairway chatting with those who pass by.
The translators have turned in their badges and have walked down the gangway for the last time,
It is over.
I am tired.
But satisfied.
We did our best,
more than our best.
We loved, cried, played, and gave the best care anyone could have given.
It is over.
Until next time.
The wards are closed, the last patients left today, and now it is over.
Exhausted or not, it is over.
The memories have been made, the babies have been healed,
the patients have laughed, cried, and lifted their voices to our God.
The kids have played in the hallways, ran around with stickers on their heads, and given us much needed cuddles.
The women have knitted hats, blankets, and socks.
The men have played countless hours of checkers, Jenga, and Uno.
We have sung
Great things He has done,
Greater things He will do.
Unto the Lord be the glory,
Great things He has done.
and have meant every word.
We have sung
It is raining all around me,
I can feel it,
It's a lot of rain.
I asked Jesus to bring more rain
until we are full,
until we are full of a lot of rain.
And knew it was not talking about water coming from the sky,
but of God Almighty's blessings in our lives.
A ward, B ward, C ward, D ward, and ICU are all packed up.
The halls feel desolate.
I keep waiting to see Micky cruising down the hallway with his makeshift car.
There are no Mama's sitting by the stairway chatting with those who pass by.
The translators have turned in their badges and have walked down the gangway for the last time,
It is over.
I am tired.
But satisfied.
We did our best,
more than our best.
We loved, cried, played, and gave the best care anyone could have given.
It is over.
Until next time.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
25 Reasons I would never own a restaurant
Let me first start by saying I asked permission from Naill Harbison one of the contributors from the blog over at ifoods.tv to repost this here. Naill has put together 25 reasons he would never own a restaurant and I would have to say 99% of the reasons are the SAME reason why I struggle with thoughts of owning my own.
Just last week (or was it 2 weeks ago?) I emailed a friend (thanks for the info Bobby M. !) about zoning issues and building. (Bobby's one of those architectural type genius's) But before I get too far off the subject here is Naill Harbison's post that I can wholeheartedly agree with AND this may explain a few things to those people who think us Chefs should always 'open our own place' - sometimes it's better as a dream in our head, than a reality:
Posted by Niall Harbison
Being a chef and having worked for some pretty famous people one of the first things I am always asked when I meet people is why would you not open a restaurant? I have even been made offers by people willing to put up the money to open here in Dublin and although usually politely declined here are the real reasons why I wouldn’t open a restaurant……..
1. Having worked for Paul Allen I have seen how wealthy technology can make you. I have never seen a restaurateur with a boat like this……
2. We are entering into a massive recession and there are far better restaurateurs out there than me who will fail.
3. Over a third of restaurants close within the first year of business
4. I don’t want to my busy time of work to be Friday and Saturday evenings when my friends are all out having fun.
5. Having a Monday and Tuesday as days off is not that appealing either!
6. I don’t want to spend years of my life working in an aggressive and stressful environment.
7. I don’t want to spend my life in fear of getting slaughtered in a restaurant review
8. I don’t want to work in a business where staff turnover is so high.
9. I don’t want to spend 70% of my time in a place that has no natural light.
10. I don’t want to worry constantly if I am going to go out of business just because business has been slow for 1 week.
11. The customer is not always right when it comes to food and I don’t want to have to pretend they are just to keep people happy.
12. I don’t want to smell like fat all the time.
13. I would rather not injure myself using sharp knife/hot oil/ovens etc
14. If I invested the couple of hundred thousand needed in AAPL and GOOG stocks instead I would be considerably richer in 3 years time.
15. I love what I do at the moment too much to sacrifice that for anything.
16. There are a lot of chancers working in the restaurant business.
17. I don’t want to stand on my feet for 18 hours a day.
18. All of friends would be expecting freebies when they came in. It is very hard to say no to friends but this kills a lot of restaurants.
19. I would drink too much of the amazing wines we would have in the cellars
20. Unless I sold cookbooks and had a few restaurants (thus losing quality) I would not be very wealthy in 20 years time.
21. I don’t want to spend 80 hours a week behind a stove.
22. Cooking can become a chore instead of being something that you love doing when it is mass produced.
23. I don’t want to have to wear a hat for 70% of my life.
24. Being in a large freezer first thing in the morning is one of the most horrible experiences in life and one I don’t want to repeat until I am dead.
25. I would end up washing dishes/cleaning toilets/scrubbing floors when somebody phones in sick at the last moment!
Yep, that about says it! (and sums it up quite nicely) ~
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Coffee Night
Last Friday night our Queens lounge was transformed into a Coffee House. My dear friend Selina and I did the baking and Karoline did the ambiance and that room was transformed. It was so nice to hang out with the other ward nurses in a relaxed environment and enjoy some coffee and yummy snacks. The lights were dim we had candles (battery powered of course) and there are new wall-mounted fans that kept the room cool enough to enjoy our hot coffee. The night was a success, yay ward nurse activities team.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Passed
Last weekend the girls came for a visit on the ship again. It is so fun when they come to visit us at our "home". Their visit was short but super fun. They wanted another tour of the ship so we did that then we ate African food from in town and we did what we always do... laugh. I love them so much. They are truly lovely.
This week when we went out for Bible study we heard wonderful news, Annie (the oldest) passed her entrance exam for nursing school. I am so excited for her. She still has an interview in January and needs to be accepted, but passing this test has really given her a sense of hope. She is a woman of integrity, honor, and compassion and so badly wants to be a nurse. Please join me in prayer for her. Please pray that she will be accepted into the program and that she will be able to achieve her dream.
The Secret Place
Yesterday Tyrone and I celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary. We wanted to go away for a couple of days, but it is not so easy here in Liberia to find a place that isn't saturated with NGO workers and that is safe in this war-torn country. We recently heard of a place called Thinkers Village, a beach about 1 hour from the ship that has decent accommodations and food. When we got there we were so excited (partly because we didn't have to travel in a crowded taxi for 3 hours) when we saw the accommodations and the lovely, clean beach. We spent 2.5 days hanging out, reading, listening to music, and enjoying each others company, and most of all we were away from the ship.
This weekend I read Psalm 91 and all I could think of was how I was so excited to find this sorta secret place to have a small get-a-way with Tyrone. I got so much joy and rejuvenation from our little vacation and then to think of the secret place of the Most High and the stability that only comes from being under the shadow of the Almighty. This is where I want to be, the secret place of the One who is my Refuge, my Fortress, my God.
Psalm91:1-2
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him, I lean and rely, and in Him I confidently trust.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
no, no, yes...
It has been a wild ride for me this past year. I came to the ship arrogant, to be totally honest. I simply thought I had something to offer to the community of the ship and also the people of Liberia. Yes, I have skills, gifts, and talents that the Lord has blessed me with but I thought, Stephanie Ruth Barton could make a difference.
It all changed on February 18th. It was screening day and definitely the worst day of my life as a nurse. That one day of seeing the true needs of Africa (not just what is shown on Western television) showed me that my abilities, or even the most talented, helpful person in whole wide world is just a small, small piece of this incredibly large need.
On screening day we spent the majority of the day saying "no" to people with medical problems that we do not specialize in, in order to have room for the patients that we can truly help. Screening day was just the beginning of this process. (In Liberia there are no specialty surgeons other than the occasional NGO surgeon that sets up shop in the local hospital, but there is still a problem, there are not really any skilled anesthesiologists either. So even then the surgeries performed are only simple, for the most part.) People come to the gates of the port begging to be seen by a Dr. desperately hoping that they can board the most technologically advanced hospital in all of West Africa (aka their only option for their medical problem).
Kwelywan is 7, his father has brought him to the ship 3 times now in hopes that his son would get a "yes". The first 2 times they did tests and conferenced with Doctors around the world and the answer was no. Kwelywan has an encephalocele. An encephalocele is a birth defect where a piece of the skull doesn't close completely, therefore brain matter seeps out and forms a bulge usually in front of the face, between the eyes. The surgery is very complex, requires a lot of care, can have severe complications including death. These are surgeries that are rarely done in the States, so doing it here seems unreal. Dr. Gary has done 2 already this outreach and has had good results both times.
The third time that Kwelywan and his dad entered the ship they received the long awaited "yes". In my heart of hearts I feel conflicted. I am so excited that he may have the chance to live a life of acceptance in his village. However, I am worried that we may have bitten off more than we can chew. (can I say that?) This is the Kwelwan that I remember.
He is playful and silly. Now he is laying in bed with a bandage covering 2/3 of his whole head, so miserably uncomfortable that he can't help himself but to just thrash around in bed (not the best thing for a kid who just had brain surgery). This is where the arrogance comes in. I as a nurse want to come on to a shift, get report on my patients, then fix what is broken, but I can't. I can do my best. I can use the skills, abilities, and gifts the Lord has blessed me with and I can trust in the Lord to do the rest. That is my part of this big picture.
It all changed on February 18th. It was screening day and definitely the worst day of my life as a nurse. That one day of seeing the true needs of Africa (not just what is shown on Western television) showed me that my abilities, or even the most talented, helpful person in whole wide world is just a small, small piece of this incredibly large need.
On screening day we spent the majority of the day saying "no" to people with medical problems that we do not specialize in, in order to have room for the patients that we can truly help. Screening day was just the beginning of this process. (In Liberia there are no specialty surgeons other than the occasional NGO surgeon that sets up shop in the local hospital, but there is still a problem, there are not really any skilled anesthesiologists either. So even then the surgeries performed are only simple, for the most part.) People come to the gates of the port begging to be seen by a Dr. desperately hoping that they can board the most technologically advanced hospital in all of West Africa (aka their only option for their medical problem).
Kwelywan is 7, his father has brought him to the ship 3 times now in hopes that his son would get a "yes". The first 2 times they did tests and conferenced with Doctors around the world and the answer was no. Kwelywan has an encephalocele. An encephalocele is a birth defect where a piece of the skull doesn't close completely, therefore brain matter seeps out and forms a bulge usually in front of the face, between the eyes. The surgery is very complex, requires a lot of care, can have severe complications including death. These are surgeries that are rarely done in the States, so doing it here seems unreal. Dr. Gary has done 2 already this outreach and has had good results both times.
The third time that Kwelywan and his dad entered the ship they received the long awaited "yes". In my heart of hearts I feel conflicted. I am so excited that he may have the chance to live a life of acceptance in his village. However, I am worried that we may have bitten off more than we can chew. (can I say that?) This is the Kwelwan that I remember.
He is playful and silly. Now he is laying in bed with a bandage covering 2/3 of his whole head, so miserably uncomfortable that he can't help himself but to just thrash around in bed (not the best thing for a kid who just had brain surgery). This is where the arrogance comes in. I as a nurse want to come on to a shift, get report on my patients, then fix what is broken, but I can't. I can do my best. I can use the skills, abilities, and gifts the Lord has blessed me with and I can trust in the Lord to do the rest. That is my part of this big picture.
Friday, October 24, 2008
the list goes on...
It is so easy to get wrapped up in my own little world. It is easy to complain about spending most of the weekend in the bathroom feeling like death is just around the corner. It is easy to complain about my 4 night shifts in a row, 2 of them being 12 hour shifts. The list goes on. Then a reality check came crashing in. His name is Melvin. He had a tumor on the side of his that pushed his eye over to the left. If you just looked at him, you would think "ah not that bad, considering some of the massive tumors that are seen on this ship." But his CT scan showed something different. Melvin's tumor was so large it pushed the septum (the bone of your nose) and his eye over. So here I am back at work after thinking I was going to die from vomiting and Melvin who just had his face rearranged is relaxing in his bed. As I changed his dressing hourly due to his continual blood loss and checked his blood count every four hours he would ask me how I was feeling and encouraged me to sit and rest. Oh man, a nice dose of perspective.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Glad
As a nurse it is inevitable I will receive report from a worn out nurse that has expended all of her available energy and resources trying to calm down a confused, irrational, scared, or combative patient, I just never thought it would be here on a ship in West Africa. I arrived to D ward bright and early this morning and the night nurses looked shattered.
I can not even imagine how scary it must be for our patients to come aboard our ship alone. They don't know us, they may live so far into the interior they may be unfamiliar with white people altogether. They don't speak English, and some of them may not even be capable to understand what to expect even if has been explained in their own language.
The lady in D1 ( I will leave her nameless due to the nature of the events) had surgery yesterday and returned back to the ward. She speaks Kpelle so the communication was difficult but there were not any real problems. Apparently shortly after the evening shift nurses left she started acting very paranoid and eventually disappeared. The nurses frantically looked for her in the ward, no sign of her. They then searched the hospital, still MIA. They called security to come help. As the nurses were searching high and low they noticed a random foot peaking out from under the linen cart behind a box. Ah ha!! The foot belonged to the missing patient. The sequence of events that followed this include a very frightened/ confused patient doing irrational things. The patient was finally calmed down and the other patients were able to go back to sleep.
After I received report I mentally chose to be glad, not to be irritated that I had to care for the patient that was obviously going to take a huge amount of time and effort. The morning was filled with drama, irrational behavior, and tasks. At one point the patient was trying to steal the other patients tea and bread. We as a team of caregivers chose to still be glad and not irritated.
I have been learning lately the true meaning of "You have made me glad". Before it was just lyrics but now I choose that to be the anthem of my heart. He has made me glad. If I were to honestly sing that song before, it would be more like "He has made me sad, He has made me anxious, or He has made me irritated". There will always be things that are sad, irritating, worrisome, upsetting, but to think that everything has to be perfect in order to be glad is missing out on so much of life. So, as I chased around my patient, juggled all my other tasks and patients I was glad... finally!!
I will bless the Lord forever
I will trust Him at all times
He has delivered me from all fear
He has set my feet upon a rock
I will not be moved
And I'll say of the Lord
You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower.
My very present help in time of need
Whom have I in heaven but You
There's none I desire beside You
You have made me glad
And I'll say of the Lord
You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower
My very present help in time of need
I can not even imagine how scary it must be for our patients to come aboard our ship alone. They don't know us, they may live so far into the interior they may be unfamiliar with white people altogether. They don't speak English, and some of them may not even be capable to understand what to expect even if has been explained in their own language.
The lady in D1 ( I will leave her nameless due to the nature of the events) had surgery yesterday and returned back to the ward. She speaks Kpelle so the communication was difficult but there were not any real problems. Apparently shortly after the evening shift nurses left she started acting very paranoid and eventually disappeared. The nurses frantically looked for her in the ward, no sign of her. They then searched the hospital, still MIA. They called security to come help. As the nurses were searching high and low they noticed a random foot peaking out from under the linen cart behind a box. Ah ha!! The foot belonged to the missing patient. The sequence of events that followed this include a very frightened/ confused patient doing irrational things. The patient was finally calmed down and the other patients were able to go back to sleep.
After I received report I mentally chose to be glad, not to be irritated that I had to care for the patient that was obviously going to take a huge amount of time and effort. The morning was filled with drama, irrational behavior, and tasks. At one point the patient was trying to steal the other patients tea and bread. We as a team of caregivers chose to still be glad and not irritated.
I have been learning lately the true meaning of "You have made me glad". Before it was just lyrics but now I choose that to be the anthem of my heart. He has made me glad. If I were to honestly sing that song before, it would be more like "He has made me sad, He has made me anxious, or He has made me irritated". There will always be things that are sad, irritating, worrisome, upsetting, but to think that everything has to be perfect in order to be glad is missing out on so much of life. So, as I chased around my patient, juggled all my other tasks and patients I was glad... finally!!
I will bless the Lord forever
I will trust Him at all times
He has delivered me from all fear
He has set my feet upon a rock
I will not be moved
And I'll say of the Lord
You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower.
My very present help in time of need
Whom have I in heaven but You
There's none I desire beside You
You have made me glad
And I'll say of the Lord
You are my shield, my strength
My portion, deliverer
My shelter, strong tower
My very present help in time of need
Thursday, October 2, 2008
deeper
There is something about working in the wee hours of the night that makes me look a little deeper or more carefully perhaps. When all the lights are off (except for the one covered with African fabric) and the curtains are pulled as a make-shift wall between those awake and those asleep and my work is complete, I start to notice the humans beings that are occupying the beds of D ward. It is easy to just see the bandages that need to be changed, or tubes that need to be filled, or drains that need to be emptied. On the flip side it is also easy to see only the personalities of our patients and forget they are here because they need medical care that their country can not provide them. I worked the past three nights and it was actually wonderful. Yes, I hate night shift, we all do but I had the most beautiful patient and they made it worth it. Kelvin is in his 30's and is completely blind. His brother slept on a mattress under his bed and did his best to care for him. However, Kelvin's brother has very little sight himself. At one point I saw him trying to help the patient next to Kelvin tie her gown closed. His face was about 4 inches from her gown and after a while the task was done and the ladies backside was covered. Kelvin has a sweet and gentle nature and anytime he needed my help I would hear him say "Sister Miatta." I learned quickly that when I approached him to say "Kelvin, it is Miatta. I am here. What do you need." When it was time for me to leave this morning he called me over and said " SIster Miatta, Thank you for your kindness and help. I will not forget you. I will pray that God will reward you for helping me"
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Gifts
I always thought everyone was a gift-giver. I feel a need to express my love and/or appreciation from the depths within me. It usually is something small, maybe some cookies, a card, pictures, etc...It was quite a surprise when I realized not everyone had this same need. When I got married I quickly realized that this was not universal. I read the popular book about the five love languages and gifts are one of them and I identified immediately.
My first experience with Mercy Ships was on the Caribbean Mercy in Honduras and I worked in village Guadalupe Carne as much as I could. The week before the ship left, one of the ladies in the village wanted to bring me a gift. She brought me a live chicken. My first thought "Why in the world would she bring me a chicken.". My second thought was " Oh man she only had 5 chickens and she gave me one." So of course, I killed, plucked, cleaned, and cooked this chicken. Not this city girl's idea of fun, but to honor the gifter I did it.
Today my friend Bendu came to the ship to bring Becky a going-a-way gift. It seems sort of weird that since last week she came to the ship and took us to her house but would not let us inside. So we sat outside on her porch for 2 hours. Don't get me wrong, we still had fun. We chatted, she showed us pictures, told us about the night she got burned and talked about our future plans. At one point we asked her if we could see her room, but she just laughed and changed the subject.
Bendu presented Becky with a neatly wrapped package that held a dress and she gave her a black plastic bag for me. My present was a bag full of cucumbers. What? Why in the world? Becky got a dress and I got a bag of produce. But who am I to second the gifter? The whole situation is just so funny. How many people can say they have received a bag of cucumbers as a gift?
My first experience with Mercy Ships was on the Caribbean Mercy in Honduras and I worked in village Guadalupe Carne as much as I could. The week before the ship left, one of the ladies in the village wanted to bring me a gift. She brought me a live chicken. My first thought "Why in the world would she bring me a chicken.". My second thought was " Oh man she only had 5 chickens and she gave me one." So of course, I killed, plucked, cleaned, and cooked this chicken. Not this city girl's idea of fun, but to honor the gifter I did it.
Today my friend Bendu came to the ship to bring Becky a going-a-way gift. It seems sort of weird that since last week she came to the ship and took us to her house but would not let us inside. So we sat outside on her porch for 2 hours. Don't get me wrong, we still had fun. We chatted, she showed us pictures, told us about the night she got burned and talked about our future plans. At one point we asked her if we could see her room, but she just laughed and changed the subject.
Bendu presented Becky with a neatly wrapped package that held a dress and she gave her a black plastic bag for me. My present was a bag full of cucumbers. What? Why in the world? Becky got a dress and I got a bag of produce. But who am I to second the gifter? The whole situation is just so funny. How many people can say they have received a bag of cucumbers as a gift?
Monday, September 29, 2008
A new name.
Last week I returned to the ward after working in the recovery room for 7 weeks. I enjoyed a normal schedule more than I can express in words, but I missed building relationships with my patients (especially the long-term ones).
Thursday, I was working in A ward on day shift. One of my patients needed blood so that kept me close to his bedside most of the shift. He and his 3 neighbors were very chatty and friendly.
One of the other patient's mothers was not feeling well and wanted to take a nap, so I put her 5-month-old grandson, Godgive (yes that is his real name) on my back (by myself, quite the task). Oh man, all my patients went crazy. "African Lady, African lady. You an African Lady. You name Miatta (meaning firstborn female child) from the Bandi Tribe in Lofa County." So, of course, I put a basket on my head and pretended to sell cold water and plums and they all yell "Auntie Miatta I buy you col wata cuz you an African lady!"
Now when I introduce myself to my patients I say my name is Stephanie but you can call me Miatta.
This is Larry, one of the chubbies babies in Liberia, he too likes to be in a lappa.
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