Last night was my first of 4 night shifts. The night went well for the most part. We have started ortho surgery so we have a row of beds that all of little children in cast, each with their mama. It is so funny because each cast is different. One is pink, one is camo, and one is blue. Each one telling a little about the personality of the child wearing it.
On night shift the busiest part of the shift is at 6am. we hang the IV fluids, clean up a little, pass meds, and make sure all our charting is done. I was doing vital sings when I felt a little tug on my scrubs (well the strings that tie in the back to make them a little cuter). I turned around and saw the biggest, cutest (Sunday-boy, 2 years old) eyes starring back at me still holding onto my strings. So for the next 20 minutes held onto my strings as I went on with my nursing duties. I had to walk a bit slower, due to his 2 year old lenght of legs, but it was worth it.
Problem of the attitude
We have been on the ship for 3 months, I have worked on the ward for 29 shifts, I have had many wonderful meals, and basically experienced life changing things.... but right now I am tired and annoyed.
It would be nice to be able to to go a meal and not hear someone complain about the abundant food that is on the line (hello look out the window, we are in AFRICA. We eat more in one week than most families eat in a month). It would be nice to work one shift on the ward with our thinking how nice it would be to transfer to the Starbucks Cafe.
In reality nothing on the ship has changed, nothing has gotten any worse, it is just me. I am tired and obviously having an attitude problem. So today I went to the ward to pick up something that I left there last night and they were having worship. Man, it gets me everytime. I was quite content wallowing in my own self pitty, but when you see the Liberians worship the self pitty somes to a skreeching hault. Some are patients that had life changing surgery and others are translaters, but they all are Liberians that worship the Lord with such Joy. So for now, I will stop with the pity party and move on and try to have some perspective.
It would be nice to be able to to go a meal and not hear someone complain about the abundant food that is on the line (hello look out the window, we are in AFRICA. We eat more in one week than most families eat in a month). It would be nice to work one shift on the ward with our thinking how nice it would be to transfer to the Starbucks Cafe.
In reality nothing on the ship has changed, nothing has gotten any worse, it is just me. I am tired and obviously having an attitude problem. So today I went to the ward to pick up something that I left there last night and they were having worship. Man, it gets me everytime. I was quite content wallowing in my own self pitty, but when you see the Liberians worship the self pitty somes to a skreeching hault. Some are patients that had life changing surgery and others are translaters, but they all are Liberians that worship the Lord with such Joy. So for now, I will stop with the pity party and move on and try to have some perspective.
Easter Brunch & Eggs
We planned and experimented with slow cooking a 'dry air' or coddled/poached egg 'if you will' for you this morning for brunch. We pre-tested it and the process worked. The process is not really new, just new here...its another one of my lovely food science things that I make everybody in the galley participate in.
I started the warmers in the dining room early at about 65 degrees Celsius, Tim went down to start the eggs in 2 inch pans and turn the temperature down to 60 degrees Celsius. That was at 8:45am, warmers were on, and hot.
Now about 10am Peter came up stairs to tell us the eggs were completely raw! What? HOW?
I guess that will remain a mystery...somebody turned both warmers off probably almost immediately after we left the eggs in there, yes, both sides.
So who was it? Was it sabotage? (certainly not, right?) Was it dining room staff? (they'll never admit it now) Or could it have been the duty officer when he comes thru and tends to turn things off? (certainly they would not come thru and do that on Easter Morning Brunch!)
Ahhh, such is life. Maybe we will try it again one day for a regular breakfast...oh they looked so good peaking up at us like a daisy the day we tested them, cooked so slow the whites where solid but not rubbery, the yolk shiny like the sun a vibrant yellow orange...
We might have been able to recoup a loss but unfortunately our clock stopped at 9:25 and we were putting along thinking all was making good time and we could pull off some more eggs in time...but no, it was really about 9:55am! I wear a watch but I hadn't really looked at it since I sent Tim down to put eggs in the warmers.
And just when I thought I could live with myself, one of my Hollandaise Sauce 'broke' (separated) and I was afraid it would be took for cheese sauce (and I think it was).
So I thank you all for your standing ovation and hope you thoroughly enjoyed yourselves on the Lord's day, celebrating Jesus Resurrection.
Local Workers
This is Ophelia, one of our ward cooks...she always has a great smile. I don't think she understands my English most of the time so she just nods and laughs.
Daniel works in Salads and he too has a great smile, I caught him not paying attention while eating his lunch in the galley.
By my side, By my side
Tyrone and I have both blogged about the VVF ladies but this week I have worked with them on A ward. When you first walk into the ward the smell of urine is very obvious. The women that are on the ward right now all are on their second or 3rd surgery due to unsuccessful surgeries in the past. Some of the women are hopeful that their surgery will work this time, some are joyful that their surgery was successful, and some are terribly depressed because their surgery did not work. The problem is that some of the ladies are so damaged that there is just no tissue to fix the fistula (a whole that is caused by prolonged child labor).
When the surgery is over and they wake up from their pain meds, we ask them "Are you dry?". As a nurse, this is such a hard question to ask, because so often the answer is not what we ant to hear. When they shake their head and say " I am wet", my mind starts to think about how they will have to go home once again to their village and potentially be shunned because of their problem. But, when the answer is "Yes I am dry", we all rejoice. Actually, the Liberians tend to jump up and praise the Lord with a song, when they have been blessed by Him. Yesterday when the answer to that fateful question was "dry, dry, dry", she jumped out of her bed and sang " I have a big, big God-O and He's always by my side. By my side, by my side."
On Tuesday I went to the Dress Ceremony, which is a time of celebration and commitment for the ladies that have had successful surgery. They each get a new dress that represents their new life. They each talk about their journey and each lead (by lead I mean sing at the top of their lungs and dance around) us in a song that is relevant to them. One of the things that stuck out the most is one of the ladies was talking about how she stopped going to church because she would leak all over the bench and would start to smell. She then looked at Dr. Steve and said "Thank you Dr. Steve for giving me the gift of being Dry. Now I can go back to Church. Your God will be my God."
When the surgery is over and they wake up from their pain meds, we ask them "Are you dry?". As a nurse, this is such a hard question to ask, because so often the answer is not what we ant to hear. When they shake their head and say " I am wet", my mind starts to think about how they will have to go home once again to their village and potentially be shunned because of their problem. But, when the answer is "Yes I am dry", we all rejoice. Actually, the Liberians tend to jump up and praise the Lord with a song, when they have been blessed by Him. Yesterday when the answer to that fateful question was "dry, dry, dry", she jumped out of her bed and sang " I have a big, big God-O and He's always by my side. By my side, by my side."
On Tuesday I went to the Dress Ceremony, which is a time of celebration and commitment for the ladies that have had successful surgery. They each get a new dress that represents their new life. They each talk about their journey and each lead (by lead I mean sing at the top of their lungs and dance around) us in a song that is relevant to them. One of the things that stuck out the most is one of the ladies was talking about how she stopped going to church because she would leak all over the bench and would start to smell. She then looked at Dr. Steve and said "Thank you Dr. Steve for giving me the gift of being Dry. Now I can go back to Church. Your God will be my God."
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