Three weeks and counting

We’ve been getting a lot of new people lately on the ship. Just after I arrived, a volcano from Iceland erupted and sent ash covers over the skies of Western Europe. The ash caused so many logistical problems for the ship: we had people stuck here who couldn’t fly out and people stuck in connecting cities who couldn’t fly in. Some surgeries had to be postponed as surgeons obviously couldn’t make their way onto the ship either (isn’t it funny to think that a volcano in Iceland would affect surgeries in Africa? Globalization, my friends). We had three empty beds in our eight berth cabin for awhile. The ash has finally cleared, so all the people who were delayed from that are now making their way onto the ship. We have two new people in our cabin: Cathy, who’ll be working in the dining room (on the same shifts as me!), and a ward nurse named Clare, both amazingly friendly people. We’ll be getting our third “missing” person tonight, and then we’ll have a full cabin! Eight girls, two tiny bathrooms… oh my.

Is it weird that seeing new faces kind of makes me kind of sad? Not that I don’t love the new people—because I do, they’re all really nice—but it just reminds me of the high turnover that is Mercy Ships. After just three weeks on board, I’m not the new girl anymore. I’m giving advice for stuff that I’m still not properly familiar with. To hearken back to my previous post, I feel quite like a chicken with my head cut off (not that I’ve ever had my head cut off, but you know what I mean). People who were the first to befriend me when I arrived are leaving, and I know it’s just going to continue. Time is already going by way too fast.