You all met Maurice quite some time ago. He was my first pediatric patient in palliative care, which made him a shoe-in for my favorite kid in Benin. He was sick and so sad those first days. His mama's eyes were always cast towards the ground, but occasionally she would speak in her broken English and smile shyly.
We treated Maurice for the type of cancer that he appeared to have. Several biopsies sent overseas kept coming back suspicious, but we kept sending them because we wanted an answer. If you read about Mercy Ships much, you would know about Dr. Gary Parker. He's been here over 20 years and I have had the honor of watching him work. He took on Maurice each time, praying for him before the first cut, and following up, making sure we were doing what was best for the little 5 year old. We finally got our answer of Sarcoma. I went into the office one night several weeks ago and attached to Maurice's file I saw research Dr. Gary had done on his particular cancer. I got an email soon after explaining that he had spoken with another doctor, and if we pursued chemotherapy, they could help with a protocol.
All of this time, Maurice has been staying with his aunt while his parents care for the rest of his family up north in the country. We showed up weekly to find a dirty, mostly naked Maurice and often left to sounds of him crying. Everything in me wanted him with his family, with his mama who takes such good care of him. I knew it was right for him to go home. They of course wanted him close to the ship, and then we had to have a honest discussion about just how likely successful treatment would be.
Last week I went to see Maurice at his house. He is recovering from the latest infection to his eye, and I wanted to change the bandage. He was smiling and happy, very willing to hold the saline for me as I attempted to make (and keep) a sterile field for his dressing change.
Monday he came to the ship, this time with his mama. She no longer looks at the ground, but kisses my cheeks and hugs me tight. Maurice was the happiest I have seen him, and I knew right then,it was time for him to go home.
His mama reports there is a 'big' hospital up north where, if, we wanted to give 'injections', they could. I can't describe hospitals here, but a thousand factors are against any timely, accurate, non-corrupt care being given to Maurice. I couldn't make the decision on my own. I couldn't. I emailed Dr. Gary.
"Is it worth trying? I want whats best for him."
As I typed, Maurice sat on my lap. I walked into the hallway, not sure of what to do, what to say. I couldn't honestly say I thought it was worth putting him through more unnecessary treatment. As I crouched down to talk, feeling unsure, Maurice came over and curled into me. I pointed to my cheek, ad he responded with a kiss. He doesn't know it, but that was my comfort. God reassured me in that very moment that I was to let go of Maurice, it was time.
I asked;
"Maurice, can you tell me something about Jesus?"
He replied
"He heals"
I asked, Tell me one person Jesus loves"
and he replied,
"me"
I walked them to the dock and grabbed one last hug and kiss from both mother and son. As he shuffled away, still with his big yellow flip flops, 2 sizes too big, I called out, 'bye Maurice', and my favorite kid in Africa lifted his hand, without turning, and waved goodbye.
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