Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Recap

Let’s have a little recap of the past couple of months that I’ve missed blogging about.
August: I turned 26! I celebrated the day by having a gaggle of the neighborhood kids come over to my house and throw flowers and leaves at me while yelling happy birthday. You may be thinking huh? But trust me, I was happy it was flowers and leaves, they have a tradition here of throwing flour and eggs at the birthday person.  I’ve seen it happen a few times to high school students, doesn’t look that fun at least not for the victim. We had a little party and I made s’mores for them. They loved them and keep asking me when we can make some more, but unfortunately graham crackers are non-existent here. So thank you Stone family for the package, and muchas gracias from my neighborhood friends.
I attended my close of service conference and got really stressed out about my service ending and real life beginning again. It was a bombardment of the truth. What I need to do before leaving and what I need to do when I get home, most importantly get a job.
I missed the big gala event that the business volunteers throw every year, due to a terrible stomach issue. I’ve recovered, I think. In October, before I’m cleared to go home I have to have 3 days filled with medical appointments and tests. We’ll have to see what exactly is living inside my intestinal tract.
September: Just normal classes and life in Muy Muy. Just when I’m forgetting about my quickly approaching departure date, someone brings up the fact that I’m leaving soon. And it’s normally followed by them saying that I probably will never return to visit them, which I try to reassure them that I’ll come back to visit but I can’t set a date right now. It all goes back to that issue of getting a job and earning money.
Apparently September is the season for pig slaughtering because I’ve witnessed two within a week of each other. I’ve never eaten so much pork in my life. It’s delicious but another issue I’ll have resolved in my medical appointments. My blood pressure and cholesterol are probably extremely high due to the heightened consumption of salt and oil/fat. As my medical appointments approach I become more and more of a hypochondriac. I’ve started making a list of the all the tests I want run and concerns I want answered.

Basically, the only thing that I’ve missed blogging about is my stressing out. And it just keeps getting worse with each day that I cross off my calendar. 

Tramatic

Surgery / Traumatizing experience √

I’m hoping I won’t have to check that box again during my remaining 4 months here. Two weeks after the surgery I finally got my stitches removed. My surgeon told me to come back for him to take them out, but the PC doctor told me I could just do it at the health center in my site. At the time I was relieved to hear that I didn’t have to take a 3 hour bus ride just for a 10 minute appointment of removing stitches that was before I actually removed my stitches.
I went to the health center and interrupted the on-duty nurse from watching the news, so that started the visit off to a lovely start. She asked me what I needed and I explained that I needed my stitches removed; she asked how long I’ve had them and I replied about two weeks and she looked at me like I was crazy. Luckily, I had a letter from my surgeon that clearly explained that July 11 was the day to remove the stitches, so I wasn’t the crazy one. Technically the surgeon wrote I should have an appointment with him, which the nurse pointed out to me, but I told her if she was capable of removing them that would be just fine. Begrudgingly she obliged and began looking for a pair of scissors and tweezers.
She dug right in and began tugging and snipping, as I sat gripping the bed and biting my lip in order to prevent myself from screaming. I had four stitches and she was able to remove two. She didn’t try very hard to remove the other two stitches and simply dismissed me by saying that they’ll come out on there own. And that was it, she returned to the other room to resume watching the news.
It wasn’t exactly the bedside manner that I received from the doctors in Managua, and from my few visits that I’ve had to the health center previously it didn’t really surprise me all that much. But I was not about to just let the stitches come out on there own, with my luck I would have another infection, etc. So I walked home and took out my own tweezers to get rid of those last two stitches. It took a little bit of time and patience but I was able to get a hold of the stitch. It looped through my foot so I had quite a bit to remove. I gently pulled it through, but then it stuck…I stopped took a deep breath and tugged it free. (I’m getting goose bumps just thinking about this) I screamed and let out a sailor’s rant of swear words. It was free. It’s amazing how a little piece of thread about 2 centimeters long could hurt so much.

I was a bit hesitant to remove the final stitch, but did it without any hitches, screams or swearing. That’s it. Now I’ll have a scar on the bottom of my foot to remind me of the whole experience.