No news is good news, not.

Whoever said that no news was good news was lying so that no one would worry about them.  Think about it, when nothing new is happening in your life and  you’re stuck in the same ol’ routine, is that a good thing? Or say something bad has happened but you don’t really want to tell anyone because they’ll freak out, you’re keeping news from them, but it’s not a good thing.  Such was my dilemma with the events of the last seven days, but I decided to share my woes with ya’ll, not because I want anyone to worry about me, but because I don’t like “no news.”

I’ll start where all good stories should start, from the beginning.  The time: Tuesday morning 1:30 AM. The place: my house I share with 2 other volunteer girls. Here’s what went down: One of my roommates awakens to the sound of a person opening our front gate, brushing past the banana tree and walking up the stairs to the back door and trying to open it. She freaks out and goes to my room. All I remember is being fast asleep and suddenly seeing some dark figure hovering over the foot of my bed and suddenly reaching out to touch me. I scream bloody murder, or at least I tried, but since I was half asleep it wasn’t at all ear-piercing. But not to fear, it was just my roommate informing me that there is someone trying to break into our house and that we need to call someone. I’m shaking from head to toe over the fright of being woken up like that, so I just throw her my cell phone. To make a long story short,  someone from the hospital came to check things out and found nothing. None of us could sleep that night, every time I shut my eyes I imagined someone standing in the corner of my dark room.  So of course, the girls don’t want to stay in that house.  Ever. They’re scared the burglar wasn’t interested in stealing anything, but rather, wished to do us harm.   After 2 nights of sleeping on the couch in another house, we finally decided to move back to the hospital. I was outvoted. I’d rather live my life have the possibility of someone breaking and entering than to cower away and retreat to a hospital room and have no hope of a life. Give me a machete and we’ll call it a day. We’re not talking about a few weeks living in a hospital room, this is long term. But we’ll see what happens.

 Then there was the other incident. One day after moving into my hospital room, I get locked out. In the rush to make it to Friday vespers on time, I stupidly locked my keys in the room. This shouldn’t be a big deal. I head over to the nurses station to ask for a spare key. They don’t have one. They have a key to ever other room, but not mine. “Not to worry”, they say, there is another copy of every key in the central equipment room. The nurse comes out with 3 tin cans filled to the brim with keys.  She doesn’t know which key is which. Two hours and probably a hundred keys later, we give up. It doesn’t exist. There are keys for doors,  drawers, cabinets and gates that don’t even exist anymore, but not one single key for room 112. By this time it’s almost 11PM and much too late to call anyone, so I accept my fate and spend the night in another hospital room, without so much as a toothbrush or pajamas. The next morning, one of the hospital maintenance workers manages to open my door my sliding an X-Ray in between the side of the door. Brilliant. I really should learn how to break into a room or pick a lock, that stuff comes in handy.

And it keeps getting better, but this not for the faint of heart.  Last week I found out I have intestinal parasites, a crazy end to a rough week. It’s okay, I give you permission to say “eww, gross “, I sure did. Due to the timeline, I am almost certain they did not come from Honduras but are the remnants of my time in Sao Tome and Principe, one last gift that was bestowed upon me.  All it takes is an unwashed fruit or vegetable, unwashed hands by someone preparing your food, or water that was not boiled for long enough.  I always wanted to get some exotic tropical disease, I don’t think I’ll feel like I’ve traveled until I get one. Give me malaria, yellow fever, dengue fever or chagas disease, I won’t complain. But no, I get a measly helminth. That’s so not hardcore, that’s embarrassing.  I took me 4 days and 5 different pharmacies to get my correct medication, which is kind of sad since this is a common illness here.  I started the first dose last night and it was not fun. Those things are like horse pills to swallow. Then they convert into stealth torpedoes: they make their way down the esophagus, into my stomach and on to the small intestine for a sneak attack on those lovely helminthes that are hustling and bustling and playing soccer with the leftovers of my lunch. Then out of nowhere, Boom, Boom, Pow! No, this isn’t a Black Eyed Peas song, that’s the sound of a blitz attack on the unsuspecting nematodes. They’re being blown to smithereens.  Slowly they are unlatching from the wall of my small intestine, never more to take a bite of Tina nutrients or blood.  Yeah, I can actually feel all this, I can even hear it every once in a while. And it hurts. It’s like there is a battle ensuing for my body, only I’ve enlisted the help of Finhelmin. It’s not a pleasant medication, but he’s a well trained, broad-spectrum, solider that gets the job done. Hopefully, in 3 days we’ll part ways forever. Those damn nematodes are probably cursing their buddy that gave them away last week. Had it not been for that traitor trying to escape from captivity, I might have never known or guessed that I had intestinal parasites. They can stay in your system for years and if you don’t have any symptoms you won’t know you have them . That worm was a hero to me, may he rest in peace. Or as my old boss from ADRA-STP once said, may he rest in pieces.  

 t-bird, out. 

Quote for the day:

Romans 5: 3-5

And not only so, but we rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.