Ibrahim

We've been docked here in Freetown for just over a week now. So much has happened already. It feels like it's been years. For me and my supply team, the last week has been spent working long and difficult days. We have a short time to get everything set up before surgery begins next Monday and way too much to do in that time. I think I sweat out about 10 gallons in the cargo hold.

I want to mention screening day now. Some of you might have heard about the sad events that took place there. For those who haven't, I'll explain briefly. We set up for a mass screening at the Freetown National Stadium very early Monday morning. There was a huge amount of people wanting to be seen by our surgeons all packed in a small area outside the stadium. Eventually the crowd grew out of our control and there was something of a riot and several people were trampled. There were several injuries of varying degrees and one man was tragically trampled to death. We shut down screening shortly after that and we plan to try again soon.

During this time I was with a patient named Ibrahim. He came to see us yesterday because he wanted us to help his 2 year old daughter who has a terrible umbilical hernia. Shortly before the riot he was pressed up against a large metal door between the crowd and us. The stadium's security personnel suddenly slammed the door shut because the mob was unruly. The mob pushed back on the door with the force of hundreds of desperate people. Ibrahim's foot got trapped in the bottom of the door. I was there pushing on the door with the guards. None of us knew his foot was being crushed because there was too much noise. My heart sunk to my stomach when I finally made out the voice I was hearing on the other side of the door. "FOOT! FOOT! FOOT! FOOT!" It took me a few moments to convince the guards to let loose enough to get Ibrahim's foot out. Several minutes later the door reopened and people were streaming into the stadium, but Ibrahim was not in the first 50 people to come through. I found out later that he was suffering so much pain from the door that was lying on the ground trying not to get stamped on. Eventually I looked over at the door and saw two nurses dragging a man screaming in agony. He was soaked with sweat, more so than I am after a day of containers, and he looked to me like he was going to die. I rushed over to him and tried to pick him up and put him over my shoulder. He was in too much pain for that. Instead he wrapped his arms around my neck, buried his face in my cheek, and wrapped his legs around my body like a young boy would do to his father. I carried him to a safe place where we could get some water and look at his foot. We rested and talked for a long time. He told me about his daughter and showed me a picture of her condition. She has a huge protrusion from the front of her belly extending out a long way. My heart sinks again. At this time screening had ceased because of the riot, but I heard God more clearly than I ever have in my life. "Help this man. Help his daughter. Nothing else matters right now." I ran to find someone above my pay grade who could look at his foot and schedule his daughter for surgery. I took Ibrahim's camera with me to show them. I found someone quickly who could make the decision. After looking at a couple of pictures they said yes. I ran on to find some orthopedic surgeons to examine Ibrahim's foot. I found them quickly too. Even in the chaos I found them sitting and waiting, ready to help the next person who needed them. They came with me to Ibrahim and examined his foot and back. They decided he should come to the ship for an X-ray. He is coming tomorrow morning and I promised him we would fix his foot. His daughter will have her operation early in May when that type of surgery begins. I took Ibrahim to get the yellow patient cards that prove he has been scheduled and that allow him access to the ship. As soon as he saw them he grabbed them and wouldn't let go. I took him a wheelchair to the exit, bribed a motorcycle taxi driver to treat him well and sent him off on his way to go tell his family all about the day and the good and bad news.

I tried to tell him about the door. That I had my shoulder on the other side pushing and crushing his foot. I couldn't do it. When we said goodbye he was smiling and laughing despite his pain and I was smiling and laughing too, but wanting to die on the inside. Ibrahim came seeking healing for his daughter. He had no idea the price he would have to pay to get in and be seen. Our chief medical officer likes to say that all these people just want to be a part of the human race again. Ibrahim was desperate for his daughter to be restored and she will be. So he can smile and laugh and forget his sacrifice for her. What can I possibly say to him? He made me promise to call him when I got back to the ship yesterday because he was concerned about MY safety. Unfathomable.

All these thoughts and emotions are so raw to me right now. What is Jesus doing here? I don't know what his purposes are, but I have been humbled by all this. He is stirring up some things in me I'm not comfortable with. Please pray for Ibrahim, his daughter, and the people here. And please pray for me, I'm having a bit of hard time with all this.