The Last Day

My last day at Mukinge was bitter sweet.

On the one hand, I was excited to go home to my husband.

On the other hand, I was sorry to leave behind the work here, and the amazing doctors and nurses and students.

Me and sister Linda, one of the OR nurses

Me and Sister Mwansa (spelling?) the OR charge nurse

Me and sister Rebecca, one of the OR nurses

Me and Jolene, who keeps the OR spotless

Me and Sister Masowi (spelling?), another OR nurse

Mr. Fumpa, the Executive Director of Mukinge, who also happens to be an eye surgeon

Monday, my last full day in the OR, was probably the day where I actually felt like I was supposed to be here. The Lord gave me such enthusiasm and joy for the work. We set multiple fractures, did a skin graft on a hand, performed a C-section, and repaired a perforated peptic ulcer. And also rounded on about 30-50 patients on the wards.

Me and Dr. Missy after an emergency C-section
That is our own sweat on our scrubs-it was a hot day

An amazing Zambian lunch,which was interrupted by said C-section

I love the OR. I am never happier or closer to God than when I am in the OR. It’s a strange feeling, having your hands in someone’s abdomen. It’s strange holding a knife to skin, knowing you’re going to cause damage but the damage caused internally is far greater.

For the first time since coming to Mukinge, I felt peace being here. I felt God smiling down at me, saying, “Now you get why I brought you here.”

I probably still do not fully understand why He brought me to Mukinge. I’m sure in many years down the road He will make it clear.

However, for now, I am content to say He brought me here to humble me.

My last day at Mukinge brought its fair share of craziness. Emergency C-sections while I was left to round on the wards. Long, long hours of rounding as we had some complicated patients. Then yet another C-section while I was lecturing to nursing students.

Then the good-byes. I had to say good-bye to the OR staff. To the charge nurses of the surgical wards. To all the nursing students on male surgical ward that I had grown so fond of. Their desire to learn was infectious. It rejuvenated my desire to learn.

Me and some of the nursing students form male surgical ward

I walked around the area surrounding Mukinge today after I said my good-byes. It was hard to hold back the tears. I had just finished reading the book “To Africa with Love.” It’s about one of the surgeons, Jim Foulkes, who served here for so many years. To think that I was probably walking the same grounds as so many amazing, godly men and women who came before me was almost overwhelming.

I pray that one day, Lawrence and I will be serving the Lord somewhere like those brave doctors, nurses, teachers. Wherever the Lord calls us, I pray we do it all for His glory. For His name. For His Kingdom.

May God bless Mukinge. May God bless Zambia.

Me and Dr. Missy 

Me and Dr. Molly Lin, who came to Mukinge the week before I left

Peace out Mukinge

A typical day at Mukinge-no such thing exists

A typical day at Mukinge begins with chapel at 0730. Then the docs and clinical officers (they're the equivalent of a nurse practitioner or physician's assistant) have handoff and turnover, discussing interesting cases from the day before or cases that came in overnight. Then, if you're on the surgery team, head to the OR.

Depending on our case load for the day, we would either round before starting the cases or one of the surgeons would round while the other started cases. I guess I should introduce the surgeons I worked with: Dr. David Friend and Dr. Cath Wallis. I totally forgot to take a picture of me and Cath while I was there. My brain was quite scattered the majority of the time. Jet lag.

Patients on our male surgical ward

Some days I would go on rounds, some days (busy days) I would just start cases with either Cath or David.

Dr. Friend operating

 Disclaimer: I will be talking about some of the cases I saw while at Mukinge. If you have a weak stomach, don't read further.

General surgery at Mukinge was very different than general surgery in the states. To begin with, the only imaging we had was ultrasound and Xray. No CT, no MRI. I never realized how much surgeons in the states rely on CT until I didn't have it.

I remember one of my first cases there. We were doing clinic (Tuesdays and Thursdays), and Dr. Missy Sandberg (one of the family docs there) popped her head in (which I soon learned usually meant she was bringing us something either really bad or really fun or both). She throws up an abdominal Xray on the box. Massive amounts of free air under the diaphragm-aka somewhere along this man's GI tract there was a hole. Dr. Friend told me at Mukinge that typically meant a perforated peptic ulcer in the first part of the small intestine.

So we did a big midline incision, found the whole and patched it up. And as Dr. Cath always says, "The solution to pollution is dilution!" So yeah we had to suck bits of food out of his abdomen and wash him out with warm sterile saline.

I had so much fun operating at Mukinge. In the States, generally I would be second or third assistant. Or just standing there scrubbed in watching the operation. At Mukinge, if I was scrubbed in, I was first assistant. Which was amazing experience! I learned so much and I feel like my assisting skills increased dramatically. I've been told to be a good surgeon you first have to be a good assistant. I hope I'm on my way to being a good assistant.

I also learned that general surgeons in under-developed places in the world literally are general surgeons. In the states usually a general surgeon pretty much just operates in the abdomen.

Not at Mukinge. The number of fractures we set, burns we grafted, gynecologic and urologic procedures we did far surpassed the number of abdominal operations. Dr. Friend really likes orthopedic procedures. I learned a great deal from him. I also learned I need to work on my upper body strength. This girl doesn't hold traction very well.

A bladder stone we removed-one of my favorite procedures from my time at Mukinge

smoothing out pieces of skin to graft onto a massive burn

Probably one of my favorite moments operating with Dr. Friend was when we were doing a SIGN nail. The patient had been hit by a car while crossing the street and had broken both his legs at different places. We were able to fix one but had to wait for the orthopedic team to fix the other. So we put this big rod in his tibia (your lower leg bone). It was a difficult procedure and took longer than we expected. At the end, Dr. Friend allowed me to sew up a few of the incisions we had made. When I asked him what stitch he would like me to use, he said, "How ever the Spirit leads you." Michelle, our anesthesia nurse, and I had quite a chuckle over that one. 

Me sewing up our SIGN nail incision

Needless to say, I gained alot of experience at Mukinge. I am so thankful to God for taking me there. As Lawrence and I prepare for a life of global medicine and surgery, I am grateful to be able to look back on this experience to know what I need to be trained in before we launch. Things like burns, orthopedic procedures, urologic procedures, C-sections. I need to learn all these things or at least have some exposure to them. 

I miss operating at Mukinge. I miss operating with David and Cath and the OR team. I'm thankful to be home with my husband, but a part of my heart will always be at Mukinge. 

David, Me, Michelle

Zambia: Week 1

I’m going to be frank.

My first week in Zambia was not at all what I had anticipated.

I think I came with some sort of expectation that I would be like a hero or something. Like I would swoop in and provide all this help. That somehow Zambia needed me.

How the Lord humbled me. Zambia did not need me. I needed Zambia.

To start with, I had horrible jet lag. And almost every day, I was nauseous and had to take Zofran. One morning, I actually had to rush out of morning chapel to go dry heave and nearly passed out. Of course, the good doctors sent me home and told me to rest.

I cried myself to sleep every night for the first week, missing my husband. Wondering why on earth God brought me to this seemingly God-forsaken place? I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Worst of all, I could not talk to my husband or family because there was no internet at my house. There were bugs and spiders everywhere.

I felt so alone. So weak. I wanted to come home. I was doubting my call to medical missions. If I couldn’t handle a few days with bad internet, bugs, and without my husband, how on earth was I going to make it as a long-term missionary?

But God.

I know we throw around the verse that says He will not give us more than we are able to bear. Honestly, I think this time, He gave me way more than I could bear. On my own. I finally, in desperation, wept aloud to Him and told Him I couldn’t bear it. I could not do this on my own. I was completely and utterly dependent on Him.

A verse I clung to during this time was 1 Peter 5:10 “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

Peter probably wasn’t talking about the little sufferings of no internet, no husband, and bugs in this verse. But for some reason, it spoke to me. I think I needed this time of suffering to remind me that I am weak. Without God, I am utterly helpless.

And thank God for the wonderful doctors and nurses and team members here at Mukinge. They welcomed me with open arms, comforted me as I cried, fed me, loved me. We celebrated the little victories, wept over the losses, and praised God for sustaining us.

God didn’t bring me to Zambia because Zambia needed me. I’ve probably been more of a burden to the people here than a help. But I believe He brought me here to humble me, to bring me to my knees. To remind me of how it is only through His strength that I can do any of this.

May God forgive my pride.

My ride to Mukinge

flying over Zambia

Kasempa

My bed-with the massive mosquito net

OR 1

Where we scrub

my walk to my house

My house

My alopecia story: chapter 15,671

I haven't posted about my journey with alopecia in quite some time. Alot has happened in the past few years and seeing as I've posted pictures of my hair down to my waist and then not even an inch long, I figured I might want to update everyone.

When I came back from China, I had lost quite a bit of hair. Probably around 25-30%. It was getting difficult to hide the bald patches. I ended up trying multiple hair solutions, from extensions to actual patches of hair glued to my scalp. Soon, that wasn't enough. The disease had a mind of its own.

I'm sure the stress of medical school did not help the situation, but contrary to popular belief, stress is not the primary cause of alopecia. However, stress can definitely exacerbate a myriad of diseases.

My fear of losing all my hair had taken a deep hold in my heart. It made going out terrifying. What if someone saw? What would my patients think?

I ended up going to counseling because I could not deal with the fear, the anxiety, and the stress. And it was about the time that the alopecia began to worsen further, that Lawrence came into my life. Funny how the Lord does things like that.

Through Lawrence and my incredible counselor, the Lord began taking away my fear and anxiety. It's not easy, being a woman. Our cultures lies to us and tells us our only value is in our appearance. And despite my best efforts, I at times believed that lie.

I still remember when I had to tell Lawrence about the alopecia. It was maybe a month into our relationship, and he looked at me one evening and said, "Why don't you have little sideburns?"

I had not wanted to tell him. I was afraid he would run. I had been told by men before that they would never consider a relationship with a woman who had no hair. I figured as soon as I told him, he would take off.

I told him. And I took of my hair pieces and my headband and showed him.

His reaction was the exact opposite of what I expected. He told me he didn't care and that I was beautiful. Of course I cried. I never thought the Lord would make any man tender and caring enough to think I was beautiful with no hair. I had believed that lie, that no man could ever love me.

So, in June of 2016, I made the leap that I should have made many years ago. I shaved my head.

Lawrence sat and held my hand while they did it. I'm not going to lie, it was one of the hardest moments of my life. My mom even drove out to Memphis to be there when they did it. The emotional support I received from friends. classmates, and family was astounding. When they shaved my head, I realized how widespread by disease was.

I loved having my wig. The freedom was amazing. It was like this burden had been lifted. I look back at all the times my disease was bad and I wish I had shaved my head years ago.

Also, just an aside, having a shaved head in the OR is THE BEST. I don't get hot because of all that hair under the caps. My head can breathe!

You can also get the best head rubs with a shaved head. Just sayin'

So let me show you the progression of my disease over the past 18 months.

The day I shaved my head: June 2016

A couple months later: October 2016

in January of 2017, I noticed alot of white hair coming back into the bald spots. I call them my "little fuzzies." And then those bald patches started growing smaller. And smaller.

January 2017

Enter the wedding. I knew I needed a new wig for the wedding. So I had one custom made that was ridiculously long. Just so I had options for the wedding day.

3 hours worth of work

On our honeymoon, I started letting my hair grow out. I knew I wasn't going to take my wig to Zambia. Too much maintenance and I was afraid of sweating too much into it. Lawrence convinced me to not shave my head at all until I returned. Just to see what happened.

And hence the product you see now. For the first time in more years than I can remember, I have almost a full head of hair. My stupid eyebrows haven't seemed to come back yet. And I'm allergic to tattoo ink, so can't even get them permanently tattooed on. Oh yes, I also found out I had a bazillion allergies to various chemicals. Fun stuff.

My hair right before I left for Zambia

My hair after not shaving it for over 2 months

So there you have it. I have no idea what happened that my hair decided to grow back. Lawrence jokes that it was his calming presence in my life that appeased the alopecia.

But yes, this is the most hair I've had on my head since I was 4 or 5 years old. It's a strange disease. We'll see how long my hair sticks around this time. For now, I'm grateful to God for letting it grow back. And I'm thankful to Him for bringing such a wonderful man into my life who loves me for more than the way I look. Of course he totally digs the short hair now.

Hello, after about 3 years

I cannot believe the last time I posted on this blog was after my first year in medical school. Now I'm staring at next semester realizing in about 5 months, I will have M.D. after my name.

Scary thought. Especially for all those who knew me back in the day.

The timeline over the next few months is as follows:

Today: submit my rank list for residency

Today: leave for Zambia (more on that in a moment)

Four weeks from today: come back from Zambia and move back to Memphis (long story there)

March 12: get an email telling me whether or not I have matched

March 16: find out where I match

May 26: I graduate medical school, and move to wherever I match

July 1: start general surgery residency (providing I match of course)


So yeah, life is about to get crazy.

I've discovered at this point I'm a little used to crazy. I mean, in the last three months, I've been to 11 different states for various residency interviews and conferences, planned a one month trip to Zambia (I promise I'll tell you about it soon), went to my brother's wedding, and got married.

Yes, I am married. Never thought I would say those words.

My husband's name is Lawrence. We met in medical school. And he is absolutely the love of my life. Never did I imagine God would bring such an amazing man into my life. Let alone a man who wants to spend the rest of his life serving the Lord overseas.

I'll probably talk more about Lawrence is another post. But for now, I will concentrate on Zambia.

Coming back from China, and then going to Haiti with Dad a few weeks later, I realized the Lord has called me to a life of medical missions. From the moment I started medical school, I had been searching for an opportunity to serve the Lord overseas. A way to use what I was learning to help those in areas where access to healthcare is sparse. And for some reason, the Lord put the continent of Africa on my heart.

So I began searching. A great resource for medical professionals and students is CMDA. They're an organization dedicated to the spiritual health of medical professionals and students as well as a mission-minded organization. Through CMDA, I was able to get in contact with an organization that sends medical missionaries all around the world. And when I told them how the Lord had laid Africa on my heart, they gave me the options to go to Niger, Angola, or Zambia.

Enter Mukinge hospital in Kasempa Zambia. It was started in the 1950s and has been serving the people of northwest Zambia for many years. It is a 200 bed facility, that is pretty much at capacity all year round. People hike for days to make it to the hospital. It also has a full time HIV/AIDS center.







Dr. David Friend has been a surgeon there for quite a long time. We've been communicating via email for the past few months, and I'm greatly looking forward to working with him. One thing I learned was they did not have any surgical gloves smaller than a size 7. And my little hands fit nicely in a size 5 1/2. I'm bringing my own gloves but according to Dr. Friend, most of the procedures do not require a "fine touch" so I should be good.

The Lord has been so gracious as I've prepared for this trip. The original plan was that I would go in September of 2017. However, when my brother told me he and his now wife had to move up their wedding date, I emailed Mukinge immediately. They were so very kind and allowed me to delay until February-due to residency interviews and David's wedding, as well as my own.

And then there's Lawrence. I cannot believe God gave me this amazing man as my husband. After realizing that I would literally be leaving him for Africa a mere 6 weeks after we were married, I thought he would forbid me to go. Much to my surprise, his words were, "Of course you're going. God wants you to go."

How blessed am I? What did I ever do to deserve such favor from God? The Lord is faithful. He makes a way, always. Through every obstacle that seemed to arise, it was clear God wanted me to go to Zambia. He is good. All the time.

So here I sit. In the international terminal, waiting for my flight. In 24-ish hours I will be landing in Lusaka, the capitol of Zambia. I'll be there for a couple days and then head to Mukinge.

It is my prayer that the Lord will use me in the 28 short days I am in Zambia. May His hands guide mine. May His ways be my ways. May He give me His heart.

And as dear sister Rita Carr always says, "But God! Look at God!"

Yes, look at God! He is amazing!

The year after China

Exactly one year ago today, I landed in Seattle. I left behind the country and the people I had fallen in love with to return back to the States. On this day, in 2014, I remember feeling just this dark, heavy cloud of grief and anger. I was not happy to be home, and I was so, so angry at Father. I did not understand what He was doing. I imagined what the next year would hold, back in the States. At that time, to me, this year would be nothing but heart-ache, wishing to return back to China. I felt hopeless, alone, and terrified.

And that feeling stayed with me for several months after I returned. I remember the day I started medical school-I cried so hard, wishing I was with my babies. Those dear, sweet babies.

Soon though, the pain and heart-ache grew less and less. Do I still have days when I miss China and my babies? Absolutely. But it's not the overwhelming feeling of sorrow I had before. Father has healed my heart. He's constantly being merciful to me, showing me what He has planned for my life. The events of this past year have just astounded me. And it's all because of Him.

So here's a couple things that happened this year. The year after China.

For one, I finished my first year of med school! Hallelujah! It was an incredible, insanely hard year. But I have learned so much. And I am so blessed to be learning with some of the best and the brightest in this country. Father has given me an amazing group of friends. They have been my rock this year, bearing with me as I freak out and cry because I miss China.

CMDA party at my apartment

My amazing anatomy lab group! Love these girls!

My family got a puppy!!!!! This was probably the biggest surprise all year. I couldn't believe Dad finally caved and got Emmy the puppy she has been begging for for years. I remember the night Mom called me and told me they got a puppy. I yelled for a while. But as soon as I met dear Willis, I fell in love. He is part Jack Russell terrier, part Chihuahua. AKA the most hyper insane dog you'll ever meet. He is nuts! But we love him to death. 

 

 

First bath-he was so little

He likes to go on runs with me when I'm home.

I ran my first triathlon. With my Dad. It was an incredible experience. I had so much fun. It was so inspiring, seeing all shapes and sizes and ages coming out to join the fun of swimming, biking, and running. I know some people wouldn't call that fun. But it was a blast.

As Dad and I started the run, I asked him, "Dad, will you at least let me cross the finish line first?"

He looked at me and said, "What kind of question is that?"

"So that's a no?"

Dad laughed, "I am not letting you win."

"But you have to let your kids win sometimes."

"No, I don't."

So as we approached the last 50-100 yards before the finish line, I just decided to go all out sprint. I should've thought it through better and waited until right before the finish line, so I really could have beat him. Of course Dad takes off and passes me. But only a couple steps ahead of me. Gotta love my Dad.

Aside from having him beat me, it was such an amazing day. And I think I'm hooked on tri training now.

I got a research internship at St. Jude for the summer!! I couldn't believe it! It was such a Father thing. It's an unbelievable experience, one that I will cherish as long as I live. I'm working in the surgery department, looking at osteosarcoma (bone cancer) in kids. Every day I learn something new. It's a dream come true to be able to work at one of the most well-respected children's hospitals in the world. Plus they feed us free food every day, which is an added bonus. Gotta get the free food when you can.

The monument to the pediatric cancer genome project outside the building where I work

And last but not least, probably the biggest adjustment for me this year, I now have a boyfriend. Yeah I know, I can't believe it either. His name is Josh, and he lives in Chattanooga. Our story is way too complicated and crazy to explain. I don't even know how in the world Father brought us together, but here we are. The poor boy has to put up with so much from me. Me, Ms. Independent/I-don't-need-a-man/I-am-she-woman-hear-me-roar. Believe me, I'm just as shocked as you all are. But he's great. He lets me be my insane, independent self, he pushes me to love Father more, and he is so supportive of me being in med school. When I'm freaking out about a test or grades or residency, he reminds me that I am right where Father wants me. Which is something I need to hear almost on a daily basis.

And I don't have pics of us, because I don't like taking pictures and he would probably make a goofy face in any pic we took anyway.

So yeah, it's been a crazy, crazy, hard, wonderful year. I could not have imagined any of this when I landed back in the States one year ago. It's been so much better than I hoped. And that's because of Father. He knows what we need. He knows where He wants us, and He will take us there. Usually it looks a lot different than what we thought or planned. But that's the beauty of serving an all-knowing God. One who loves us far more than we ever could love Him back.

Average

Looking back on my first semester of medical school ... it's crazy to even think about it. All that I have learned and unlearned. It's insane.

Medical school was not what I thought it was going to be. The challenges I thought I would face were not the challenges I actually faced.

One of the biggest struggles this semester was battling "ravenous appetite for honor."

To some extent this is almost a natural by-product of the system. You work so hard to get to medical school. To get in you have to be a perfectionist, obsessive, meticulous. And when you finally clinch that coveted spot, it's like "You are #1! It doesn't get any better than this!"

There were so many days this semester where I battled that desire for honor. It was almost a daily battle. The idea that somehow I had gotten here on my own merit, through my hard work, through my sacrifice. They tell you when you come that you're the best of the best.

But something happens in that transition from undergrad to med school. While you may have been #1 at whatever undergraduate school you went to and you were considered far above average, you get here and everyone is either as smart or smarter than you. You become ... average.

I'm going to be honest, I struggled with this alot this semester. Adjusting to the fact that here, I am ordinary. I have never been looked at as ordinary in my life. I didn't like being ordinary. What happened to all the praise, all the honor? What happened to being one of the best? Now I am ... average.

It has been a difficult adjustment. And it has exposed parts of my heart that I wanted to hide, to pretend didn't exist. Pride is an easy thing to hide. You don't have to walk around with your chest puffed out and a "look at how awesome I am" attitude to be a proud, arrogant person. This semester showed me just how prideful and arrogant I am.

I don't like being average. Ordinary. One of my biggest fears, and it's a fleshly fear, is that I will never do anything of significance. Or that I will be invisible, unremarkable.

And that is wrong. It is wrong for me to fear that. It is sin. But when you are in a system that every day tells you you need to be #1, to be extraordinary, it is hard not to fear being ordinary or average. There's a fear that you won't be recognized for what you've done. It's wrong, but it happens.

There's a drive, a hunger for glory, for honor. And I confess, I have succumbed to that hunger so much this semester.

I have to remind myself almost every hour of every day of why I am here. Of who brought me here. of what He has planned for me, even if I'm not sure what exactly that is. On multiple occasions, Father brought several verses to my mind as I struggled with being average in a world where being average is like a death sentence.

Phi 2:3-4 "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourself. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others."

Ps. 62:7 "My salvation and honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuse."

Matt 16: 24-26 "For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?"

I read something the other day that said, "Great lives are never achieved by making greatness a goal ... To live for the greatness of Father is to live a great life."

And that's when it hit me. It's Father's greatness that matters. Not mine. It's His glory that I should be concerned about. Not mine. Everything all around me and in me is screaming for my own glory, my own honor.

But that is not the great life. The great life is one lived fully surrendered to Him, to His work, to His glory, to His honor. He is the one who got me here. He is the one who keeps me here. He is the one who has gifted me with the opportunity to study so I can serve His most precious creation, His people.

I am average. But that's ok. Because the One I serve is NOT average. May He forgive my pride and grant me mercy. I deserve neither His forgiveness nor His mercy. But that is the beauty of His grace. And through His grace this semester, I am learning that it's about Him. Not me.

And finally to quote my Dad, "Lindsay, you are not the center of the universe."

Thank God he's right.