Interior Screening: N'Zerekore to Kankan to Mamou

There's a space of time before dawn when the world seems to stop - just to take a moment and breathe - before jumping into a new day.  In sandals and scrubs in the twilight before the morning, I turned off my night-vision headlamp, ignored the chatter from my radio earpiece, and prayed for wisdom.  The whole purpose of this trip is to find surgical patients, but we came with limited surgical slots, a few handfuls of hope to share among hundreds.

Because these hours of dirt roads in between town, a minor inconvenience or adventure for me, are the difference in medical access for thousands.

And they came, as the sun began to rise.  Young and old, wearing their shame under a carefully wrapped lappa or nursing it along on crutches or hidden under a keffiyeh.  There were the cleft palates and noma patients I rejoiced to find, a boldly written MAXFAX across the top of the pink screening sheet.  An alcohol-cleaned finger held out in a prayer that the HIV test would be negative and the immune system strong enough for surgery.  A tentative smile that danced in brown eyes with a carefully held patient card - the golden ticket for a screening slot on ship and a chance at surgery.

And there were the moments that ripped my heart in half again and again and again.  A double line on an HIV test, a plastic surgery desperately needed but no spaces in the surgery schedule and a waiting list already too long, a medical illness with no medical doctors or medication available to help, a brand-new baby in my arms and no orthopedic slots to straighten tiny deformed legs.

 From town to town the schedule steadily filled with the carefully reserved spots I had counted out for each location.  From town to town they came, and the need was great.  My own wisdom could not possibly have been enough to make the choices on which so many lives depended, and I was left in freefall - trusting in the wisdom and guidance that could only come from the One with the power to see and touch every life, the only One who can truly heal.

When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick...And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding country. People brought all their sick to him and begged him to let the sick just touch the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed. ~ Matthew 14:13-14, 35-36

Interior Screening: Conakry to N'Zerekore

It was almost midmorning on day 2 of the interior screening trip when I found myself belly down over the spare tire on top of the Land Rover, hooking ratchet straps into the frame and rearranging our waterproof backpacks under the tarp.  I could feel the sun starting to bake through my tee-shirt and kilted skirt, warm on my bare feet.  Swatches of grass line the road back over the hill to warn approaching trucks of our presence: a creative African version of the reflective orange warning triangle.

Our first day had gone very smoothly: 12 or so hours in the car from Conakry to Faranah, with around 25 potential patients to screen when we got there.  We spent the night at a guesthouse, after a late evening of unpacking and talking in the wide open field out back, while fireflies danced with the blanket of stars.

We hadn't even hit unpaved road yet the next morning when a loud CLUNK from the front Landie (Land Rover) had us pulled over in the tall razor grass on the side of the road.  A verdict of broken rear differential had us splitting our team - two to stay behind with the vehicle waiting for a tow, and the rest to continue on.  We had two stops for screening that day before driving on and through mudholes and more holes all the way around the northern border of Sierra Leone, out of the sunset and almost to the Liberian-Cote d'Ivoire border.

The first two days (Part 1) in light purple.  Guinea is a big country, and an incredibly gorgeous one!

The morning of day 3 we met a few patients at the beautiful little clinic in N'Zao and met with the hospital director and officials to prepare for the "big" advertised screening planned for the government hospital in town the next day.  Only 3 days, and already we had several patients scheduled at 4 stops, with a month's worth of dirt road in between.  My back was a bit sore from being airborne between holes so much of the trip, already I had earned a designation as "trunk monkey" from swinging off the handles above the Landie doors so I wouldn't land in other people's laps quite so often.  Already my heart rejoiced in the mountain greenery and endless rice fields that filled the drive.  I went to sleep that night tucked into the mosquito net, with my headlamp by my bed and bag already packed, scrubs laid out ready for the early morning screening the next day in N'Zerekore.

The medical team prepares patient cards in N'Zao.  Sorry, no patient closeups for privacy reasons!

Adventure to the interior: A beginning

Well the land rovers are packed and our team is ready to head out early tomorrow morning at 0430.  Two weeks of guesthouses and camping, muddy dirt roads and plenty of coffee, large crowds and lots of potential patients...

In short, two weeks of incredible crazy adventure.

The meetings and planning of the last two months fed neatly into the increased pace of the last week...spreadsheets and plans and meetings, the glaring orange of the medical bags in my camp chair under the window and the boxes of pregnancy tests and yellow patient cards sitting on my desk under a small pile of very conservative clothes.

It started when I offered to help, two months ago.  Just mentioned that I would be willing to work with the screening team again if needed.  And here we are, headed out with a team of nine crew (including three nurses), hitting up cities throughout Guinea to screen for patients.

There could be thousands waiting for us - some already with surgery dates and so many others hopeful.    It is impossible to go in my own strength, my own wisdom: sure recipe for disaster.

So I kneel in my weakness at the foot of the cross and rise in thankfulness that He has already gone ahead of us.

I pray that I would see through His eyes, to see him there in N'Zerekore and Kankan and Mamou and everywhere in between.  Would you pray with me?