A Highlight of my shift...

Hello everyone!

I’m still alive and well! There are so many stories and fun adventures I could tell you about, but I cannot possibly capture everything in blog posts. So here is one story in particular that touched my heart. It was my second shift on the ward. For the first 6 weeks I am assigned to the “plastics” ward. This means most of the patients have burn wounds on their arms, hands, neck and/or legs. The burns are old and the scar tissue around the joint has healed into a deformed and immobile position, which renders that body part nearly useless.

The little girl I was taking care of that night had been accidentally pushed into a fire around the age of two. [To protect her privacy we’ll call her “Nicki”] Her burns where quite extensive, covering most her chest, back, right arm and right side of her face. Nicki is now six years old and unable to move her right arm and neck. When I started my shift, Nicki and her mother were brought to the ward from recovery. At first Nicki was drowsy, lying quietly on the bed with her mother sitting next to her. A large bandage covered her chest and neck. As she began to wake up she became restless and upset. Since she was speaking Malagasy (the language of Madagascar), I was unable to understand why she was crying. I thought she might be in pain and/or scared. I made sure she was receiving enough pain medication and then brought the translator over to help me talk with her mom to see if there was something else I could do. After a bit of back and forth translation and charades we found out Nicki just wanted an apple. J Haha! Unfortunately, since she had just come back from surgery and we were only able to give her some water and crackers. This seemed to satisfy for a little while, but she soon became restless and fussy again. It’s hard to keep a 6 year old trapped in a tiny hospital ward on a ship with no windows and on bed rest when they are used to living most of their life outside.

Later that evening I had to give her some medication and she was not having it!  I tried every trick in the book to get her to take the medication. She was even refusing to take it from her mom. Finally we just had to force her to take it, which proved somewhat difficult with the big bandage on her chest and neck. Needless to say, afterwards we were not friends!

I felt bad having to hold her down and force her to take the medication. These kids go through so much transition. They are plucked from their home in the village, brought to a ship full of white people who are scary and don’t speak their language. Then we poke and prod them, make them take yucky medications and cause them physical pain. I kept thinking “What could I do to make this little girl feel loved, cared for and safe?” Later that evening I came over to tend to her and reached to hold her hand. She noticed my nail polish and seemed to like it. I made some hand motions indicating that I could paint her nails. I don’t think she understood what I meant but when I came back and started painting her nails she gave me a big smile.

It was a beautiful moment that we didn’t need language to share. And was definitely a highlight of my shift!

Hopefully the slideshow below works! Enjoy the pictures!