Screening Day

Hello everyone! Well, our much anticipated "kick off" day has come and gone. On Monday a "secret army" of blue and white poured down the ship's gangway and into the early morning darkness. Over 150 of us piled into our fleet of landrovers and formed an impressive train that zig-zagged through the rugged streets of the city, headed for the stadium. Most of the city was just waking at this time but from those Liberians that we did encounter along the road, we received shouts of "thanks" and cheers of excitement. It was quite a sight!


Upon reaching the stadium, we discovered thousands of Liberians already in line with hopes of being accepted into screening. Many of these people traveled from long distances and even more of them had spent the night sleeping in the dirt lot.

We opened the gates at 7am and our pre screeners went to work quickly and compassionately. They had the most difficult job of all, as they had to go out into the crowd and decide who we could help and who we could not. Because we are not truly a hospital, but rather a surgical center, we have a very specific population of people to treat. In particular, we focus on eyes, goiters, hernias, maxofacial tumors, burns, orthopedics, and vaginal vasicular fistula repairs for women.

I worked as an escort at the gate and can tell you that it was heart wrenching to watch any of these precious people be turned away. If we discovered that we could not physically treat a person with our limited resources, we brought them to our prayer room where dozens of volunteers offered them spiritual support and hope in their heavenly father.


As people were accepted into the stadium I was responsible to guide (or carry) each individual to the appropriate station, be it registration, history and physical, examination, lab, or pharmacy. I saw sights I've never seen before, not will again. I met people unlike any that I've known in my life and admired them all for their resilience. Young and old, male and female, walking, crawling, limping and weak, they came with grateful hearts to seek relief from their suffering. I did my very best to embrace each one of them with welcome and with the knowledge that we were thankful they had come. For some of these people who have become outcasts in their villages because of their ailment, we were the only source of human contact they had in years. Hand shakes, hugs, eye contact, and smiles went a long way to make them feel loved once again.


It was ridiculously hot and most of these people came with only the clothes on their backs, and the children in their slings. Despite our attempts to keep things moving, they waited in lines as long as 8hrs before being seen. Still, not one single complaint!


We pulled as many of the children out of line as possible and provided them with a shaded play area. We had ballons, bubbles, face-painting, and coloring projects for them. Most important of all, we had praise and worship music for them because they love to dance and sing!! They were absolutely beautiful....cleft lips, tumors, missing limbs, and all.


I was in awe of our staff. People from all over the world, speaking many different languages, having completely differnet life experiences, and possessing many different skill sets, all worked together like one fluid body. As I mentioned it was very warm, hours were long, situations with patients were very emotional, and breaks were rare. Still, not once did I see anyone "lose it" with another. Instead, they carried smiles, made themselves available and flexible regardless of the situation, and truly practiced love in action. All of this was more evidence of God's presence at the stadium that day.


When the very last patient was seen it was well after sun set. Physically we were exhausted. Emotionally we were drained. And mentally, we had much to process. Wonderful images of hope and healing flooded our minds. While other pictures of sadness and disappointment loomed. Simultaneously however, we were somehow energized and excited by the patients we could now anticipate welcoming aboard the ship in weeks to come. (We booked surgeries Monday through Friday from now until the end of JUNE!)


One of the most challenging parts of my day involved and 18yr old girl named Pele'. Two years ago this beautiful young woman came home from school simply complaining that her right leg "hurt" her. She denied having ever experienced any trauma or having had any visable sign of disease at the site of pain. Now, at the gate, I found her screaming in pain as her father tried to carry her inside. I ran over to help him and discovered she had developed one of the most severe conditions I had seen that day. Her right leg's tibial bone was completely and totally hanging outside of her flesh, leaving the "meat" of her calf and what tendons she had left flapping in the breeze. The bone was only attached to her body by the decayed tissue around her ankle. It no longer had communication with her patella (knee). It had clearly been exposed for more than a year this way and the bone had been dying ever since. I suspect she has some type of bone cancer, but will have to wait until the pathology reports come back to be sure.

She covered the wound with a very tiny white hankerchief and was engaged in constant battle to keep the flies that swarmed at bay. She was ashamed, embarrassed, and dispondent. She didn't want to even look me in the eye.

Knowing that her father couldn't possibly carry her through the 8hr line ahead, I wrapped her leg and placed her in a chair. My friend Baj and I decided to carry her in that chair for the remainder of the day, through that line, as she made her way through each station of screening.

I was determined to show her that she could trust us, that we thought she was beautiful, and that God had great things in store for her. After three hours of small talk and many moments of simply standing in silence by her side, I found her smile! By nightfall, she made it through all stations and was given an appointment aboard the ship for May5th. She will lose her leg just above the knee, but will gain freedom from pain and life-threatening infection. Because there are a very high number of amputees in the country, a direct result of the war, President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf has declared the intent to increase funding to the handicapped of liberia. With any hope, Pele' may then stand a better chance of receiving a prosthesis in the future.

Pele's story, as well as so many others we encountered yesterday, seem so very preventable. Without access to basic health care, many of these "minor" conditions turn into major ones that often result in death. This is exactly why our mission here in Liberia is so important. Not only are we hoping to meet immediate needs, but also pour our energy into preventative teaching and training of native health care professionals for the future. By even reading this blog, you are supporting such a critical endeavor and I thankyou from the bottom of my heart!


Know that I have many other personal stories and thoughts from the day but have decided to save some of them for a less "public arena". I will have some pictures available in the future but am sincerely trying to be thoughtful with my choices, so as NOT to exploit these poor souls. Knowing that pictures often speak a thousand words, I hope you can understand my decisions with regard to selection. ( I will only post pictures of those who have given me permission to do so.)


So.....there's the brief summary of screening day for you..... incredible images seared into my mind's eye forever. MANY people will soon receive the gift of sight, the freedom of walking, and the ability to feel human again. Others who weren't as fortunate and were sent home will be covered in prayer by our hospice teams. ALL, however, were served with the love of Christ and were ministered to in His name.



Please keep these precious people in your prayers in the coming weeks.
Love,
Katie