Hot tired and getting sick of baguettes

Well, I'm having a great time here in Marseille. (Besides the fact that God is doing a lot of character building; which I really wouldn't classify as fun)
This evening our team hosted a 'Canada night' and invited tons of people. We all wore red and I made a quiz with Canadian facts and we played games and sang the national anthem and talked about Jesus. It was great! A Muslim lady and her kids came who I met here- I went to visit her today which was cool.
Her husband has a very thick Marseillais accent (the local dialect kind of) and it was so hard to understand him. He talked a mile a minute and I sat there feeling really silly and constantly having to ask him to repeat himself or slow down. Aside from the Marseillais accent, I'm finding it pretty easy to get around. My french has improved by leaps and bounds and I love talking with people. Especially on the bus, although sometimes I get in a little trouble for not paying attention to where the rest of the group is going.
Last night we had a picnic on the beach with the young people from the church here and we played this crazy game where you make two teams and each team holds onto each other like a long snake and the head person has to grab a tail from the back of the last person. There were several injuries and we laughed so hard. It was great to have a break from all the seriousness here.
This Saturday we are helping out with a program the church runs in a poor area here, it's a kids program but a lot of parents come along too. Ashley Scales (from Winnipeg) and I, who are both nurses; are giving a workshop to the moms about healthy living and first aid. Hopefully we'll be able to have some fun demos and teach them what to do if their kid chokes, etc. And hopefully also build relationships with them and talk to them about Jesus.
Like I said, it's hot here and I really need to go to bed as we've been working hard all day. We have baguettes here about twice a day but the nice thing is that they're not really making me constipated. Perhaps it's all the great wine we've been drinking.
lots of love!

French adventures continued

I've been so incredibly busy this last week that I've hardly had time for anything! But I think that I'm used to the French keyboard now so maybe I can write a little more. Where I'm staying right now out the window I can see the ocean and hills of sandstone covered in olive trees and grape vines. The houses are yellow stucco with bright blue shutters. I'm staying with Elyse Maclean and in the morning we walk down windy streets to the church and meet up with the rest of our team. We then have a couple of hours of prayer, studying the bible, and worshipping together. It's awesome! For lunch we eat baguettes and cheese and wine and other french things, and then in the afternoon we do all sorts of evangelistic or other things. These involve walking around and talking to people about Jesus, playing games with kids at the park, and the other day we (together with the church here) gave a concert for the neighborhood ( a couple hundred people came!) and we shared testimonies and sang. Miguel Alzugaray is a real sensation here thanks to his beatboxing abilities. Everywhere he goes he is surrounded by a little fan club!
Yesterday we set up microphones at a really busy area of town and preached the gospel and sang. I was absolutely amazed at the response of people. They were so interested and talked to all of us and we gave away dozens of bibles and other things. Marseille has actually only 1% Christians and they seem so hungry for God. When I was speaking, however, one man did yell at me to go to hell. I just laughed and told him how to get to heaven instead!
I've met some really nice muslim ladies and one invited me to her house and fed Elyse and I cups of whipping cream (poor Elyse is lactose intolerant so she actually did suffer for the gospel!)
I love you all!

Adventures abroad

well, i`m writing on a french keyboard so if the grammar here is horrible you know why! i've arrived in marseille and am staying with a wonderful couple named phil and ruth. miguel and i spent a super fun day and night in paris with lots of adventures, including watching a robbery happen right in front of us and getting lost on our way to the eiffel tower. i absolutely love marseille, its kind of like greece here and its warm and sunny. the people in the church are really friendly and i was able to understand just about everything in church today. i love speaking french and i`m finding that it is coming really naturally. anyway, lots of love!

Travel!

For those of you who don't already know, I'm going to Europe! I'm leaving on thursday and I will be going to France for two weeks, then Belgium for one week and England for one week. (With perhaps a little Netherlands thrown in for good measure). I'm hoping to blog every couple of days so as to keep you updated on my exciting adventures, so hold tight!
In France I'll be spending time in Marseille (south France) with a bunch of other people who are from Salt & Light churches across Canada. We'll be telling people the good news about Jesus and spending time encouraging a local church there. I'm meeting my sister Alpha in Belgium and we'll be doing some sightseeing there and then visiting friends in England.
If anyone wants me to bring them anything particular from overseas, just let me know! I'd also appreciate your prayers as I navigate in a foreign language (French, of course) and am challenged to share my faith and work with a great team of other christians. I'm excited to see what God will do through us and to us!
Another item for prayer, while we're on that topic, if you remember, is my not-so-straightforward future plans. I'm in the midst of applying to some more schools but my heart's number one desire for the rest of my life is to treasure Jesus, so I'd appreciate if you'd pray that I don't get distracted by all the chaos from the face of God.
lots of love!

The worst nurse night

On my way to work today, I prayed "God, when the people I work with want to know what you are like, I pray they'd look at me, and when they look at me I pray I'd be a reflection of you." If only I'd known what the afternoon held, I would have prayed, "God, if people want to know what you are like, don't let them look at me!"
So as not to bore you with extended narrative I'll just give a brief summary of the worst nurse night ever.
1. It started with a pink ward. I should have known as soon as I saw the coral/pink wall color that it was going to be a bad night. Not only that, but there were four or five hallways coming out of the nursing station like the rays of a star. I spent the evening perpetually lost and having to ask for directions.
2. I walked into the report room and all the nurses looked at me and one of them asked, "Are you orienting here?" I said "No, I'm working the evening shift." They looked at me incredulously. "But we've never seen you before. Have you ever worked here before?" I tried to exude confidence. "No, but I've worked in other wards here. I'll be fine." They didn't seem to exude any confidence in me at all.
3. I was busy giving out pills before dinner when I made a drug error. It was a routine dose that was due at that time, but the staff on before me had given it before its scheduled time and left a little note saying not to give it in the evening. I didn't see the note until I went to sign the chart and felt the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't a serious mistake at all, but protocol usually demands filling out an incident report. I went and spoke with the team leader and she rolled her eyes and sighed and made a comment to another nurse about the mistake I'd made and told me to leave a note for the nurse in charge in case they wanted to do follow-up. I did so, and then went back to my duties, feeling humbled and determined to focus more.
4. While giving pills to one patient, she was having trouble swallowing. I thought she'd swallowed the last mouthful so I popped another one in. She started gagging and choking and coughing, and kept at it for a good 15 minutes. I sat on the edge of her bed holding her up and contemplating the prospect of doing mouth-to-mouth on someone with applesauce and vomit coming out of their mouth, and I almost started to gag myself.
5. One of my patients required a condom catheter to be put on at night. (Kind of like a condom attached to a catheter bag.)A care aide was in the room with me and I got everything out and went to put the condom on but discovered the poor man was much more well-endowed than the tubing allowed for. The care aide took it from me "Here, I'll show you how to do it!" and tried to stuff things into place, making highly inappropriate comments about the family jewels and all that. I tried to shut her up to no avail, trying to assist while the poor man was in agony. I suggested a larger size and the care aide said no, this one was fine, but finally I had enough and said I didn't care, I was going to get a bigger size. I ran down the hall and found one and with considerable difficulty we finally got the larger one on. Unfortunately it wouldn't unroll properly and the tape got stuck on his hair and it just went from bad to worse to much worse. At the end of the ordeal I offered him a warm blanket and he just glared at me. Poor man. I stopped in later and asked how he was feeling, and let me tell you, if looks could have killed I would have been dead on the floor.
6. You thought that was bad? Later I went by his room again and discovered two staff mopping up the floor. It appeared that I'd forgotten to close the open port on the bottom of the catheter bag and his urine had just drained right out and all over the floor in a massive puddle.
7. When I was giving nighttime pills a patient asked me for a laxative. I checked his chart and there was no order written for it, so I hummed and hawed and asked another staff if he usually got it at night. "Oh, he knows what he needs!" She exclaimed. "If he asks for it, you can give it." I felt a little like I was taking a risk but I wrote a nurse-initiated-order and gave him the medication. Just to cover all my bases, I wrote in the nursing notes that I'd given him the laxative and filled out report stating what time he'd received it, etc. etc. A couple of hours later I happened to double check his chart and discovered that there was after all a regular order for the laxative, I had just missed it. He did in fact get them every night and all that was required of me was my initials. I can picture the next shift coming on and reading report. "So, what emergencies happened last shift? Let's see what they wrote. Mr. Smith got a laxative? Goodness, who would write that? It must have been that agency nurse. Those agency nurses. Always charting on the most trivial things."
8. I was getting one patient up out of her wheelchair using a special electric lift. I got everything arranged properly and got her lifted up and wheeled into the bathroom, and it was hot work and I was sweating bullets. She said to me suddenly, 'I don't mean to be rude, dear, but have you ever actually used one of these lifts before?" I wanted to shout, of course I have! Hundreds of times! But instead I just smiled. "yes I have." Then I saw where I'd hooked the straps together incorrectly. Oh dear.
9. Another patient was very distressed and had been shouting and calling out in Cantonese for some time before I finally gave him a mild tranquilizer. His roommate was frustrated as all get out and kept shouting "Speak English!" I went over to him to calm him down and said, "look, love, he can't help it. Tell you what, if it bothers you that he's shouting in another language, why don't you try shouting in another language too?" He started to laugh. "Well, I can speak Russian and Polish." "Russian will do." I said, and tried a few of my Russian words on him. He started speaking in Russian and both of them calmed down. A little later when some other nurses came in the room I could hear him shouting in Russian. I retreated down the hallway just a little guiltily wondering if there were any ethical issues with teaching your patients to shout in foreign languages at each other.
9. Halfway home tonight I realize I'd forgotten to get my timesheet signed. You know what? If I don't get paid for working today I don't even care. Driving home I couldn't stop laughing, everytime I thought of the urine all over the floor or the horrible pink walls or the look on the catheterized man's face when I asked him how he was feeling. I wonder if I'll ever have to work on that ward again, and I wonder if I do, if the nursing staff and patients will be happy to see me again.
Oh, the joys of being humbled!

Lost in space

What is the problem with my sense of direction? Last night while driving to UBC I was distracted and totally missed a turn and ended up slightly lost. No big deal, we eventually figured out the right way, but I started wondering today why it is I get lost. I remember living in Langley 3 years ago in an apartment building, and because we lived in a completely scuzzy area and I had no time to workout during the day, in the evening I would go jogging in the apartment building- up and down stairs and hallways. Man, I got lost so many times. This feeling of disorientation would settle in and suddenly I'd go down an unfamiliar hall and I'd have no idea where I was. And then there was the time I got off on the wrong floor and tried to unlock someone else's door. Imagine my shock when they suddenly swung it open and demanded to know who I was. I couldn't believe they would ask me that and I wondered what they'd done to my apartment!
Venice was actually not so bad because before I got there I heard that everyone gets lost there, so I established the fact that i would be lost. And I was. I would wander for hours down little streets and alleys and when I was tired and wanted to go home I'd stop someone and ask directions. After about 4 or 5 sets of directions I'd make it back home.
Well, you name the place and I've probably been lost there. And that helps me get lost even more, because when I'm out driving I try to stick to a familiar route. The problem is, every street looks familiar because chances are I've gone down it by mistake once or twice.
I tried to come up with a profound statement that could apply to both my navigational deficiencies and also life- and here it is:
I may not know where I am, but I always know where I'm going.
If you say it out loud to yourself a few times it will probably make sense.

The great delight in showing compassion

Well, last night's nursing adventures required more than just a few smiles. I went into one very restless patient's room in the middle of the night when I heard her calling from the nursing station.
"I want my sinemet." She demanded, shaking all over and curled up in bed. "Withholding medications is a violation of my rights. I know what my rights are and I want my sinemet right now."
"Oh, I'm really sorry!" I responded. "Your sinemet's due early in the morning. But I can give you something else that will help. I can give you some ativan, which will help you sleep."
"I don't want ativan! I want my sinemet! The doctor wrote that I could have it whenever I wanted and this is a conspiracy to keep me stuck in this hospital! You go check the charts and then do the right thing."
A little surprised, I went back and checked the charts. It wasn't due til morning, so I prepared some ativan for her and brought it to her with a drink.
"Sorry, love, but the doctor ordered it for 7 in the morning. This will help, though."
"I don't want that! Get the hell out of my room! Don't even think about offering that to me!"
I tried to put a reassuring hand on her knee and she shoved me away, snarling. "Don't touch me!"
"What if I help you get more comfortable in bed? Would you like a drink?"
I held a drink out to her and she grabbed it from my hand, flinging it around the bed. I grabbed for it to keep it from soaking her and she grabbed my arms and started shrieking at me. "You thief! Get the hell away from me! you're all thieves, you good-for-nothing nurses! I'm going to report you for this. I'm going to make so much trouble for you that you'll wish you'd never come to work here."
I wrestled the drink away and scrambled to rescue the pill she'd sent flying.
She cursed and yelled at me while I tried to negotiate for several minutes and then I went out of the room, shaken and frustrated. I asked one of the other nurses to go try to help her, but from way down the hall I could hear the patient yelling racist slurs at the poor Chinese nurse.
We weren't about to call the doctor in the middle of the night to order a non-essential med, so we left her yelling in her room while we decided what to do. After a few minutes she'd calmed down and I tiptoed to the doorway, looking in to see her curled up, drifting off to sleep. I turned out the light quietly and went about some other duties, hoping she wouldn't wake up until 7.
A couple of hours later I went into her room and she was awake, and I sat down next to her.
"You don't look very comfortable at all, love. Can I help you get changed and straightened out?" I suspected that she could be in pain of some variety even though she wouldn't admit it. After a few minutes of negotiations, she agreed to let me change her.
Her bed was soaked through and where she'd been lying in her feces her skin was reddened and sore. No wonder she was upset! I cleaned her gently and changed all her linens, making her comfortable. I covered her in warm blankets and got her a drink. I brought her some medication and she agreed to take it, although she needed my help to hold her head while she swallowed. It must have taken 20 minutes to get that medication down, with her complaining the whole time, but I sat there patiently.
"You see how hard it is for me to swallow? You don't understand what it's like to have Parkinson's. And look at my legs. See how dry the skin is?"
"I think we have some lotion around here." I responded.
I found a bottle and began to gently massage her legs, suddenly feeling such deep compassion and love welling up towards her. She may have been unforgivably rude, but she was suffering, and I would forgive her a hundred times over if only she would let me help her. I looked up at her face and tears were beginning to pool in her eyes. She managed to swallow and then she said to me grudgingly, "thank you."
I think I felt a little like God feels at that moment. (I know that sounds funny, but I mean it in the best possible way!) The bible says that he has compassion on all he has made, despite what we've done. Each one of us, myself included, is a little like that woman- fighting against God until we decide to receive his grace and mercy. But the wonderful thing, is that it is his great delight to be merciful! I was so very happy to be able to be kind to her! And imagine how much more God delights to do good to us.

Good morning smiles

Last night I avoided going into a particular patient's room because I knew it meant a lot of work. He was on 'droplet precautions', meaning I would need to put on a gown, gloves and mask every time I entered his room. Also, he was notoriously bad-tempered and the other nurses had complained about him quite a bit. He was fussy about everything and he couldn't breathe very well and I could hear him yelling and grumping when the other nurses went in his room.... Early in the morning I finally put on my whole space-suit get-up and went in to him, hearing him sneezing and gasping for breath.
"Good morning! How are you today? I'm sorry that you can't see my face, so you don't know what I look like, but I have to wear all these ridiculous things just to come in and talk to you."
He grunted in response and demanded that I empty his urinal. After I emptied it and put it back in exactly the right spot he said, "Well, I can tell you're pretty even with the mask on."
I laughed. "Oh, I don't know about that! I could be completely fooling you!"
That got a smile from him and he returned, "Even if you were completely covered, sweetheart, I'm sure you'd still look sexy. I just can't see you very well because I'm blind in one eye and half-blind in the other."
We laughed together and I spent some time fetching him this and that, getting him clean clothes, helping him bathe. He started to get more positive and I talked to him about the bible he had on his desk and what it meant, and all the books he liked to read. When I'd finally settled him in his bed he was still gasping for breath but he looked cheerful.
'Well," I said, "I have to go now, and I know you can't see it, but I'm giving you a 'good morning smile' under this mask."
I smiled at him under my mask and he wheezed, "Oh, I can tell you're smiling, sweetheart. You know how I know? When you smile, your eyes crinkle up."
When I left the room we were both in a good mood. I thought, how wonderful to make him cheer up! It's not one of those things that people get Nobel prizes or scholarships or acclamation for, but at that moment, it was the most important thing in the world that I could have possibly done.