Scars here have taken on a new meaning for me during my time here in Madagascar,partly because of how they originate. It may be simply that I've never worked in trauma or in a burn center before, but the scars I've seen here have had a great impact on me and have changed my perspective regarding their significance. I've seen a man in the local hospital who was attacked with a machete for the fruit he was harvesting, who will bear the scars of those slashes for the rest of his life. Children who rolled into the fire pit in the floor of the one room hut they live in with their families. Adults scarred from childhood diseases that don't even exist anymore in the developed world. Scars are a measure of survival. They are a measure of strength, of endurance. And while the people here hide these debilitating scars and contractures on their bodies with scarves and giant floppy hats, while parents bring their scarred children to us hoping that we will have the ability to erase those scars - to us they indicate a courage and will to survive that very few posses. We are just starting the plastics portion of the field service, working with patients with physical deformities, tumors, or severe burn contractures. These patients come in to the hospital downcast, hiding their faces or different parts of their bodies, hiding their scars. As they spend more time with us though, it is a gift to see them begin to open up, laugh, and build relationships with us and the other patients on the ward.
When we first started our nursing orientation, one of the nurses shared a quote from Chris Cleave's book,Little Bee, with us. Although I read this book myself several years ago, this quote has taken on a much more significant meaning for me during the last few weeks of plastics:
"On the girl's brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”
I'd like to introduce you to just a couple of the patients that we are currently working with, who bear these scars of survival.
Windy! He suffered from these burns when there was an explosion in his home a few years ago. The burns radiate down the side of his body, limiting his ability to turn his head or straighten his arm. He's also one of the cheekiest, and smartest, kids I've ever met! The first night I met him before his surgery, I started to count to ten in Malagasy, proud that I could say all the numbers. "Iray, roa, telo..." He quickly cut me off and counted, in English, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" Then he started giggling at me. In the middle of a game of Jenga, when I asked another nurse to please bring me something, he looked up at me and clearly stated, "Please. Clean the blackboard, please." Someone's been getting in trouble with his English teacher! And despite everything he's been through, he is always quick to smile.
Mamisy! This is a truly incredible teenager. As a child, he suffered from a disease called NOMA. NOMA is a disease that affects mostly children in third world countries, eating away at the flesh. It has a mortality rate of 90%, meaning that survivors are very rare. It thrives in areas of poverty. The last time this disease was seen in the Western world was in the Nazi concentration camps (Auschwitz). Mamisy is a survivor! And Dr. Gary is in the process of building him a nose and upper lip. It's a total of three surgeries, so it's quite a road to travel down.
Here is his before picture:
Here is his before picture:
And here is his latest picture. He has one more surgery to do on his lip before it will be complete.
And just for fun, here are a couple pictures of some other wonderful patients who have captured my heart in plastics:
Narcisse. He is great at entertaining the little ones on the ward. He just left to return home, and although we are so happy he has healed so quickly, we are all missing him on the ward!
Ezra. If you ever want to play a challenging game of "Memory: Spongebob Squarepants Edition"... find this kid. I beat him by one pair this week, and it was a major accomplishment for me.
Fandresena... although he likes to be called Clemmens. He has become one of the poster children for plastics... how could he not with that infectious laugh and giant smile??
I never imagined that I would get to be a part of something like this. The patients are truly incredible, and I am so blessed to be able to spend so much time with them on the wards. Even on my days off, I find myself wandering through to say hello and check in with them. I've truly seen miracles here! Healing that shouldn't happen. A nose being built from a piece of scalp. The nurses and medical team I work with encourage and challenge me to grow in my faith and become a better nurse every day. I can't wait to see what the rest of this plastics service holds for us!
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