This is a blog post written by a wonderful friend on the ship, Kirsten, who works on the maxillofacial ward with me. When I read her blog post I was immediately brought to tears and had to re-share. It gives a perfect depiction of the heartbreaking side of things we do here on the ship. You often hear of our amazing success stories and the breathtaking transformations that take place, but rarely hear of the harsh reality we experience in these countries who lack the access to healthcare. What I love most about this post is how beautiful Kirsten tells the story of what goes on spiritually in these wards. If you read anything on my blog, this would be it.
Please check out her blog for the original posting as well as so many other beautifully written blog posts:
https://kaeliveinlove.wordpress.com/2016/10/10/when-you-cant-save-everyone/
"News travels fast when you live on a ship. Saturday night I heard that we had an emergent admission to D ward from the Hope Center. A young boy from the north, (about 10-12 hours drive) with a massive facial tumor who is here for a CT scan, began bleeding out of his mouth and nose. He was brought in and started on a TXA drip to help stop the bleeding. The CT scan was completed and reviewed by the doctors. It was the worst news possible. The tumor is too extensive to operate on. Nothing can be done.
At 2pm I walked onto the ward to begin my shift. I expected this patient to be discharged to home by palliative care by this point. Well, I was wrong. As I was standing against the counter and waiting for group report, the dayshift nurse looked over at my report sheet and pointed to D5. That’s him, she said. I scanned the column – Bed D5, Isaac, 15 years old. My stomach tied in a knot and I could feel my eyes start to well with tears. I looked up at bed D5 and the curtain was drawn, but I could hear a young boy asleep and struggling to inhale with each breath. How was I going to do this?
Isaac’s tumor has been growing for three years. In report I looked at his CT scan, and I realized why the surgeons couldn’t even attempt to operate. The tumor has literally engulfed his brain and all his major blood vessels are feeding it. As Isaac was sleeping I glanced behind the curtain to see his face. It took everything in me not to cry. His tumor was coming out of his nose and his mouth. His eyes were pushed back toward his ears and he has been left blind for the last eight months. Constant drainage was running from his one open nostril. He would occasionally stop breathing while he was sleeping. Dr. Parker said that the way his tumor is growing now, his airway is slowly occluding. He will most likely suffocate to death in the next few weeks to months. Despite all of this, Isaac is completely with it mentally.
My plan was to get all of my work done with my other patients as fast as possible so that I would have time to spend with Isaac and his grandmother. Before going to dinner I asked Isaac and his grandmother if there was anything I could do or if they wanted to go sit outside with me. The answer to all of my suggestions was no. But, they would really like it if they could have a Bible to read. We couldn’t get a hold of chaplaincy to obtain a Bible in French or Fon, but I promised I would work on it. My first stop before eating dinner was my cabin where I grabbed my Bible. I thought at the very least I could read to them in English and have one of the day crew translate. The next question was what passage to read them? I ate a quick dinner while flipping through my Bible, but nothing really was coming to me. I went out on Deck 7 before going back to the ward and it hit me. As some of you know, I lost one of my best friends in college to cancer. Shortly before she died she wrote a baccalaureate speech, which her parents gave me copies of to share with others after she passed away. The verse she focused on in her speech was Isaiah 40:27-31. I read it. It was perfect.
I went back down to the ward apprehensive. I didn’t know how this was going to go. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to do this. But I do know God put Isaac in my care for a reason. I asked one of the day crew, Johannes, if he would come read the Bible with me to the family. He said yes and as we were walking over to them, Johannes remembered that another patient had a Bible in French. This patient said it was ok if we borrowed it. We sat down in a circle. Isaac to my left, his grandmother in front of me, and Johannes, and another day crew member, Janet, to my right. We started by reading Psalm 23, and then moved on to Isaiah. We spent about ten minutes rereading this verse. We said it in English, Johannes read it in French, and Janet translated it into Fon. Slowly and emphasizing every word with great passion.
“Israel, why then do you complain that the Lord doesn’t know your troubles, or care if you suffer injustice? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
After this we spent a lot of time in prayer. Johannes prayed, Janet prayed, I prayed. We have an amazing day crew. They spoke when I couldn’t come up with words to say. I asked Isaac if there is anything in particular I can pray for him for. He took some time and then he answered. His grandmother burst into tears, Janet began crying, and Johannes got up and walked away. Oh no I thought, what just happened?? After a few moments Janet translated for me, he says that he just wants to be able to go to school and finish his education.
I just met Isaac, but I love him. I had a lot I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t know how. Then out of nowhere Johannes pointed to Isaac and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to him. It was like God giving me my opening. I took Isaac’s hand. I leaned in and looked him in one of his eyes. I told him how happy I am to have met him. I told him that he is inspiring and he is strong and that I care about him. I told him I love him, the nurses and doctors love him, and that God loves him. I promised that there are so many people praying for him. I held Isaac’s hand for several minutes, sitting in silence. To finish, I asked Janet if she wouldn’t mind singing a song in Fon. She began, Johannes joined in. Isaac’s grandmother sang through a cracking voice. Then I started to hear more voices, my other patients began singing too. I looked at Isaac and he was clapping along.
This was one of the hardest shifts of my life. My heart breaks as I think about Isaac, but I’m also amazed and overjoyed that God brought him here at this exact time to remind Isaac of His perfect love and hope during these last days. To remind him that this life is temporary, but that Heaven is perfect and forever. My heart breaks as I think about how Isaac’s tumor never would have gotten to this stage in America and my heart breaks as I think about how many more people will die in this manner. But as I look around and think of all of my other patients in the ward, I realize if this ship weren’t here, they all would have eventually ended up this way. We can’t save everyone. But we can raise awareness, we can show love, we can care for the sick and the poor and the broken and the dying. We can do small things with great love.
Isaac is more than a tumor. I want you to meet the Isaac beneath his skin. Isaac is strong and brave. Isaac is gentle and loving. Isaac is scared, but he doesn’t complain and he doesn’t cry. Isaac is a 15-year-old boy with hopes and dreams for his life and for the world. Isaac enjoys playing with Playdough and dancing. Isaac has some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. He may not be able to see the world anymore, but he still sees a God that is worth turning to and thanking. After being told on a Saturday night that he is going to die, Isaac chooses to go to church on Sunday morning and sing Hallelujah.
Please join me in praying without ceasing for Isaac and his family. I wish you could have seen his face when he heard that there are people in the United States praying for him. This may be because for the first time over the last three years he realized that the world cares about him. Pray that his pain will be minimal and that he won’t suffer long. Pray that all he will feel over these next weeks or months is love and peace.
I wanted you to know about Isaac, because his life matters. These issues are important. He is important."
