Appreciation

While home, I was able to take a course in pediatric oncology and chemotherapy administration. We are doing something different this year on the ship, we are taking in the Burkitt's Lymphoma kids and giving them a program all to themselves. While praying about whether or not to stay last year, and if so, where I would work, God plainly laid out His plan for me. There were no questions, no hesitations, I just picked up and followed. He made it easy this time. I have no experience with oncology aside from my year in Africa, so I emailed my old boss. Within a day, I was in touch with an educator from our oncology floor at Boston Children's, and she had re-scheduled a course just so I could attend it during my small window at home.
Told you He made it easy.

While sitting in the course my mind wandered back to Africa (Shocker-my mind was wondering. Even bigger shocker-I found my thoughts falling back to Africa)
As we talked about Cyclophosphamide, the drug we use to treat Burkitt's, I thought about sitting for hours, waiting next to men with semi-automatic weapons to buy a few vials for 2 dollars a piece at the ministry of health. All so we could assure Luc and Rachelle had enough medication to finish their treatment.
When they mentioned doxirubicin, I thought of Luc, how his cancer was recurring when we left Benin. How we were trying to find this drug that isn't available at all in his country unless it is imported from Europe.
When we talked about the Nadir during treatment, the time when the immune system dips low following a dose of chemo, my heart ached for Maddie and her parents. She died because her body was too weak to fight her infection, too compromised during that time. The wound from that pain is still so present in my heart.
They mentioned complications, how nausea and vomiting is common. I thought about holding Maurice while he suffered quietly, too exhausted and sick to even cry.

She mentioned the risks associated with spilling chemotherapy while preparing it, how everyone should clear and secure the area, then call the 'spill team'.
I smiled at the difference between my old world and my new reality.

As I listened to the extended treatment and availability, to millions of dollars worth of medications, transplants, and other various options, I realized something.
A lot of people asked me if I was in culture shock while at home. I kept thinking of this phenomenon while I sat and sipped fancy tea at a world class hospital, watching the differences between Africa and Boston become more and more vast.
No, I wasn't in culture shock. I silently recounted every step it had taken for me to be at that place at that very time. I thought about all of the differences. How I have come to appreciate both worlds.

Before I left for Africa I worked at one of the top hospitals in America.
'I put you there, Suzanne. Look at what that time prepared you for.'

I now work among some of the poorest people in the world.
'That is my will for you, you were made to do this my child.'

The kids in Africa don't have half the treatment options, they die because they do not have access to certain drugs.
'The time they get from your simple steps is precious. You know in your heart they come home to me when it doesn't work.'

With Burkitt's we give basic chemotherapy. No, it doesn't always work, but without it, death comes quickly for these kids. Do I resent America, or Children's Hospital for having better options? Do I get angry that Africans appear to be at the short end of this medical stick? Do I resent the fact that kids suffer from cancer and I never wanted to have to face pediatric oncology as a nurse?
No.
Simply, no.

I was sent to Africa, where I found my place and my purpose in life. Burkitt's kids like Luc, Rachelle, Maddie, and Aime helped me find my place and direct me where to go next.
Instead, I sit here and appreciate all that God laid out for me. What better place to learn valuable information to bring back to my beloved Burkitt's kids then from the best of the best?
Treatment is simple, but that only means we don't interrupt their quality of life too badly. If we give them 10 years or 10 days, they don't suffer under a system that doesn't let go just because there is always one more option.
(Disclaimer: things can come across wrong in writing here. In no way am I glorifying Africa or blaming America for over-treating. That's not the point of this anyways.)
The fact that my current focus is on pediatric oncology is no surprise, really. Last year I learned that there is no end in regards to how much our hearts can love. God forced my heart open wide, even in the face of devastation, and I have never felt more alive.
God took the one thing I said I would never do, in a situation I never thought I would be in, and showed me His heart.
Appreciation doesn't even begin to describe what I feel for that.