Day 8-Pulse

August, 2011 § Leave a comment

After school on Wednesday, I took the school bus out to the hospital. After practically dragging my 50lb. suitcase up to staff housing, I ate the lunch Delmy’s tía [aunt] sent with me, talked with Argentina, and shaved my legs in one of the showers upstairs.

I went to Trish’s house where Hannah is house sitting to use Hannah’s computer. Facebook and e-mails overwhelmed me but made me excited about seeing familiar faces.

There were so many messages about Savannah. I got a call earlier in the week. Savannah died while I was gone and thus far, it has left me speechless and tearless. I want to do Savannah justice by sitting in my house where she has left an empty spot and filling it with tears and all the mourning I can muster.

When I walked out of Trish’s house I saw Heidi’s car parked outside so I figured she’s probably at Mrs. Zina’s. Sure enough, she was. I sat and talked with both of them and then Heidi and I got in her car and went up the hill for the date we had planned.

Heidi is a true missionary and so I try to make sure to see her when I can so she’ll rub off on me. She gave me what she referred to as “unsolicited advice”. I probably should’ve written it down but I remember most of it. She said I should write down my fears about moving to Honduras and strategize on how I’ll face each one. She also suggested I start collecting devotionals books to have there with me. Both good ideas! Like a true missionary would give, I guess.

Have I said yet that Honduras is beautiful? It has to be the most beautiful place in the world. And when you’re up that hill looking over the Caribbean it’s obvious that there is a God in heaven who lives, breathes, and moves in the fullness of everything real, true, and profound.

I went to the Fields’ house to get the money from Diana for her computer. We talked about my time in Rio Esteban, one of many conversations I’ll have about my time in Rio Esteban. Maybe I should write myself out a script. Better yet, pass around my journal.

You know who didn’t ask me much about Rio Esteban? The Younts. That night, Christine and I had dinner at the Yount’s house (basil chicken). I felt natural with them. Like seeing distant family members. The jokes and memories are never too old and any sour feelings have long since faded because family is family. Well, the Younts aren’t family. But you know what I mean.

As we were leaving I, kind of in passing, confided to Christine that my stomach was a little upset. Oh my, if only I knew what that comment had in store for me in the next 24 hours. [more like 78!]

Dr. Shaw dropped us off in San Louis and, of course, we went to Iris’ house. By this time my stomach was turning upside down and I could hardly sit up straight. So, I went and laid on Iris’ couch. People came in and out. Lights went on and off. And I vaguely remember Christine telling me she was leaving. I couldn’t move or I knew I would fall or vomit or my head would fall off. I eventually realized I couldn’t very well sleep on half of Iris’ couch all night. I knew the best thing to do would be to just get into my own bed and stay there until I felt alive again.

They were on the porch as I was leaving and offered for me to sit down. I told them I wasn’t feeling very well probably for having changed my diet so much lately. And Doña Tela, in a motherly fashion, agreed that it would be best for me to go get some rest. And, rest I did! As soon as I got in bed I was asleep.

But, I wasn’t asleep for long before my stomach turned inside out and emptied itself on the side of my bed. I had tried to get up and find a bucket first but as soon as I moved there was no hope. I felt horrible. Not only physically, but for having woken up poor Christine who now, after hours, had her own personal patient living in her room and ruining her sheets.

Christine and I took the sheets to the pila and tried to wash them. What a stench. We eventually realized it wasn’t working too well and Christine said she’d take them to Iris’ washing machine while I put the new sheets on the bed. I threw the new sheets on and, exhausted, immediately fell asleep. I remember at some point all the women in Lindy’s family leaning over my bed offering me alka-seltzer and then again opening my eyes to a fizzing cup of it.

Until 12pm the next day, I was in that room like a bear in a cave. My body was burning. My head was heavy. My heart was racing. And my mind had nearly gone delirious.

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