No Pasta!

I was reminded today by a question/comment form that was filled out, that it has been a long time since we have had Spaghetti with meat sauce or bolognese.

In an earlier post this year I talked about weevils (here and here) and how they are damaging all our grain products. They were so far advanced in the actual spaghetti noodles that it was creating gray 'dust' where they once fed on the whole pasta.

2 months ago we had select pasta left.

1 month ago we had no pasta left except for Couscous and Rice Noodles.

I wish we would hurry up and get the pasta we ordered. It's coming on a future container. I am ready for some spaghetti as well as all those other pasta shapes and dishes we will be able to once again created weevil free!

Bizarre

Sometimes I have a hard time making myself focus on the sun-shiny, life is wonderful, praise Jesus I am in West Africa parts of ship life. Sometimes I focus on the annoying things about being on the Africa Mercy. Other times like tonight I have been focusing on the bizarreness.

I have to laugh as I write this at 2 am in the ICU. First let me tell you, it is not the nice peaceful environment that ICUs all over the US and other parts of the world aim for. Our harbor generators are on. It is so loud in here that I have a ear protection on the 5 month old baby I am taking care of, whom sounds like a duck each time he breaths in. But at least he is breathing on his own. Baby Greg (yes, that is his name given by his Liberian Mother (who was informed by one of the nurses that Greg is not an African name, like she did not already know that) and Father, whom is also named Greg) has been in our ICU for the past 4 days, due to having a hard time breathing on his own. He has Cystic Hygroma. He was born with tumor on his neck that just continued to grow larger and larger , filling with lymphatic fluid, and causing Greg difficulty breathing.

Back to the bizarre, I am in Africa right? Well, I think it is kind of bizarre that Greg is bundled with a Bob the Builder blanket. Isn't that kind of weird? Come on! It is kind of out of place don't you think? I have seen construction here in Liberia and none of the workers look anything like "Straight from the suburbs, Bob the Builder". Bob is plastered all over this receiving blanket totting his fancy hammer, wrench, nuts and bolts.

On Wednesday I went to my friend Victoria's house that is being rebuilt after being destroyed by a fire. The neighborhood boys are constructing her house, and I can guarantee you that they are not using any fancy tools that Good ole Bob has in his tool belt.

So to see a Liberian baby named Greg, swaddled in a Bob the builder blanket in the ICU with the Harbor generators so loud that I have my i Tunes music all the way up and it is still barely audible, I chuckle at the bizarreness of it all.

Club: Perfect Day

I have read blogs and heard stories about the ward nurse's perfect day. These stories usually included snuggling with cute babies, steady work, and good co-workers. I have been working on the ward for 5 months and I can finally join the club of "A perfect day on the ward".

Nothing unusual or spectacular happened, maybe that is why it was so wonderful. I had the same patients on the B ward as the previous 2 days. I knew them and they knew me. No surprises. I knew how to do their complicated dressings already. I knew who got what meds and who needed vitals when. This made for some downtime. Not too much so where I would get bored, but just enough to get some extra hugs and kisses from Christian and Alusin.

Alusin is 2 and he had his cleft lip repaired about 2 weeks ago. Usually, cleft lip babies leave after day 5 but Alusin and his mama were kept to be able to translate for another patient's Mama. Jitta's (the baby I wrote about last week) Mama only speaks a dialect from a village in Sierra Leonne. None of our translators spoke here dialect so Alusin's Mama (her sister) had to stay. Bless her.

Alusin is 2 in every way. He is an expert fit thrower. It is actually quite impressive. When I was little and my brother and I would throw a tantrum my usually mild-mannered dad would get down on the floor and make us lay down on the ground too. He would say " If you are going to throw a fit, you need to do it right. Kick your feet, pound your fists and shake your head.". By that time we would all be laughing hysterically and see how ridiculous our behavior was.

Every day at around 10:30 Alusin would get tired but refuse to take a nap. So I would strap him on my back in a lappa and then continue on with my tasks. He would fall asleep on my back. It was a win-win situation for everyone on the ward. By 10 am the patients would be tired of hearing him scream and his poor mother would be worn out. So while Alusin took his nap on my back we were all happy. There is something euphoric about having a child fall asleep on you. For me, it is intensified when I feel like everything is just right. The music was playing, the baby was sleeping, my patients were happy, I was working with lovely nurses... it was perfect.

Christian

There is something about Christian. He is so full of life. His world is quiet (we are unsure how much he can hear) and dark (seeing only shapes and shadows) and he is unable to verbalize anything but high pitched squeals and laughter that comes from the core of his being. He is this skinny hyperactive child that loves to jump up and down clap his hands. He has this amazing trust in people once he has identified you as his friend by smelling you. Once you are his friend he jumps up with his hands in the air and a grin on his face and expects you to catch him.

There have been many times when I was doing my work on the ward when I would feel his hand grad my shoulder and he would catapult himself up onto my back. He would just sit there until his mom would peel him off. She was convinced that us white women could not handle the weight of her son on our backs. I think she is right. Well, I think I could not handle Christian the way she handles him. Seeing them together makes me think about God's provision. When He created Christian He knew that he needed a special mom. He needed a woman that was playful, consistent, loving, kind, fast, strong and perceptive. God picked the perfect woman. She is all of these things.

Southbend Marathoner Gold

First the old oven:

Now the New:

...how do I love thee...let me count the ways...