Little Muhammed is adorable. He is a two year old Liberian that has all the joy and rambunctiousness that a two year old boy ought to have. He pretty much runs around the ward like a crazy man a hundred percent of the time. It's great.
When he was 1 1/2 he severely burnt his arms and hands when he was being watched by an aunt. The aunt had placed a bowl of hot oil on the ground and little, curious, Muhammed wandered towards the pot and stuck both his arms into the boiling oil.
His mother told me she cried and cried when he was burnt. But there was nothing she could do. Liberia's doesn't have hospitals and burn centers to take your children too.
Instead, Muhammeds skin grew back so that all his fingers were cemented to his palms and he had no functional use of his hands.
After trying to play with other children he would tell his mom, "My hands have ropes."
But Muhammed can use his hands to play now. He builds with blocks, he grabs stethoscopes, and plays with hair. Did I mention he's adorable and totally owns all of us nurses?
Well, he's adorable and he totally owns all of us nurses. Especially when he gives hugs and wide mouth kid kisses.
His mom thought he was in need of a haircut so today he received one. Sam, one of our translators' sat him down and shaved his head Liberian style with a razor blade. Muhammed didn't like getting his haircut, but he does look even cuter.
Tonight I taught him to say, "Meggee."
As he ran around the ward, grasping an over sized Winnie the Pooh doll, the power of the moment hit me. For two years I had dreamed of taking care of African children and teaching them to say my name (I really want them to call me Aunte Megan).
When I actually have time to ponder on my experiences (I feel like I never just think anymore) I think those moments will always amaze me. It is so happy to love.
When he was 1 1/2 he severely burnt his arms and hands when he was being watched by an aunt. The aunt had placed a bowl of hot oil on the ground and little, curious, Muhammed wandered towards the pot and stuck both his arms into the boiling oil.
His mother told me she cried and cried when he was burnt. But there was nothing she could do. Liberia's doesn't have hospitals and burn centers to take your children too.
Instead, Muhammeds skin grew back so that all his fingers were cemented to his palms and he had no functional use of his hands.
After trying to play with other children he would tell his mom, "My hands have ropes."
But Muhammed can use his hands to play now. He builds with blocks, he grabs stethoscopes, and plays with hair. Did I mention he's adorable and totally owns all of us nurses?
Well, he's adorable and he totally owns all of us nurses. Especially when he gives hugs and wide mouth kid kisses.
His mom thought he was in need of a haircut so today he received one. Sam, one of our translators' sat him down and shaved his head Liberian style with a razor blade. Muhammed didn't like getting his haircut, but he does look even cuter.
Tonight I taught him to say, "Meggee."
As he ran around the ward, grasping an over sized Winnie the Pooh doll, the power of the moment hit me. For two years I had dreamed of taking care of African children and teaching them to say my name (I really want them to call me Aunte Megan).
When I actually have time to ponder on my experiences (I feel like I never just think anymore) I think those moments will always amaze me. It is so happy to love.
