Last year, whenever I gave a presentation about Mercy Ships, I always talked about Musu. Musu was one of my most memorable patients. She was sassy, mischievous, and had the most beautiful smile. After spending two months on the ward, Musu and I became very good friends.
Musus had two standard greetings which I heard every time I walked into the ward. The first, "Oh Meggee, you will marry my brother." The second, "Meggee, your butt is big. It is fine" (this of course was accompanied with hand motions). Regardless of how many times I explained to Musu that American girls don't like to hear they have big butts, she never stopped. In her mind, she was giving me a compliment.
Today, I was in the wards collecting information for a patient story. My very fun-fellow peds nurse/north easterner friend Ali was working in the ward. Last year, Ali and I had the distinct privilege of having a ward dance party, in which one of our patients (Milton, "The Reverend") told us we danced like Micheal Jackson. With authority, I can say it was a crowning moment for us both.
Perhaps Ali and I give off a dance party aura. Today, I was in the ward for no longer than three minute, when I found myself immersed in a spontaneous dance party that consisted of Ali, myself, and two of the moms. I guess dancing is a universal language.
The dance party started off by a comment on the size of Ali's backside, and then moved on to comment on mine. It's only been a week and a half, and I've already had a West African communicate to me that I have a large backside. And the moms didn't even speak English.
It makes me laugh. And I love to laugh.
You should read Ali's account.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment