Epic fail

Some of you may remember a previous post where I mentioned my broad-spectrum soldier, Finhelmin. I'm sorry to say that he failed me and died in battle. He will not be given a hero's funeral nor will there be a 21-gun salute. I pulled the doctor aside one day and quietly told her I needed more meds, she was pretty shocked, "Really? That stuff I gave you is pretty powerful." I must have some mutated, hardcore, African version of a nematode. As a second course of treatment, which is apparently needed in 80% of cases, the doctor gave me another drug. This one only cost me about 33 cents, I knew that couldn't be a good sign. It failed me too. :( So yesterday I decided to try a more homeopathic remedy, one that is actually scientifically proven to work: drinking crushed papaya seeds and water. Do you know you what papaya smells like? No? Well, let me enlighten you: it's gross. It tastes delicious but the smell is something else. My roommate was so kind as to crush the seeds for me and mix it with water. She even had a tiny sip. "Oh, it's not that bad Tina, it just tastes like a plant or something". It looks like dirt mixed with water with bugs floating in it. But I toughen up and take a drink. First swallow, not so bad. I keep drinking and it begins to burn. It tastes like I'm drinking straight engine cleaner. I physically can not chug it because I keep gagging. So I pace myself, 3 sips and stop. 3 sips and stop. 3 sips, gag gag, spit. "Come on Tina, keep drinking it," my roommate says as she cheers me on. "Ok T, don't be a pansy, just drink it" I tell myself. 1 sip, feel the burn, dry heaves, stomach gurgles and turns. My body starts convulsing. No way, I'd rather suffer the long term consequences and have nematodes invade my liver than drink this stuff 3 times a day for a week. Every time I think about it I have a visceral reaction. Papaya seeds: Epic fail. So my next step? Another homeopathically proven solution: chopped garlic. Looks like I won't be attracting any guys or vampires anytime soon.

On a lighter note, I finally moved out of the hospital and into my apartment. I'm quite ecstatic about it. As a tribute to the hospital, I'd like to share one of my fondest memories from a night spent there:

A few nights before I moved out, a friend of mine was in the hospital to have an appendectomy, along with half of her extended family. Throughout the day, various relatives arrived to see her. They came a few at a time until eventually I'd seen her aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmothers and grandfather. It was pretty cool. During the evening (there are no visitation hours), I knocked timidly on the door since her room was right across from mine. I go in and am greeted by a hospital room filled with about 10 people that yell out, "Tina! Come in, we have Popeye's! Have some spicy chicken or a biscuit, I know you love those biscuits!" It's true, I LOVE biscuits. One of them was joking that they hoped the doctor wouldn't come in because he had complained earlier about, "Hondurians always turning hospital visits into picnics." Popeye's is the patient's favorite food. She complained that it wasn't fair she had to watch her whole family eat her favorite food while she was hooked up to an IV drip. I did feel bad for her. But I was happy for the chicken and biscuits, I swear I felt a tear run down my cheek when they offered me food, I had just finished eating my hospital dinner which consisted of 2 pieces of bread, one slice with peanut butter the other one bare, soy coffee (which I did not drink but promptly poured down the sink) and an orange. So I saw spicy chicken and biscuits and immediately thanked God for the generous gift.

A few minutes later, the mom wheels in a borrowed TV from the nurses' station: their favorite novela is about to start. Everyone gets comfy on the spare bed and folding chairs and circles around the TV. "Okay," she says. "if the nurse comes in, we have to change the channel, she said that this TV was only used to show religious shows to patients." About 20 minutes later a nurse comes in to run a new IV and one of the aunts promptly get up and casually stands in front of the TV, trying to conceal the latest episode of Doña Barbara. It was a pretty awesome night, surrounded by family, fried food and lots of laughing. How many people do you know have their whole extended come visit them in the hospital and spend numerous hours with them? Yes, one may argue that the patient needs to rest in peace and quiet, but I think knowing that so many people care about you and that you are loved is also an important part of the healing process.

Instead of a quote, today you are being treated to an excerpt from a speech given on the canceled TV show, Jack and Bobby.

[This is the] beginning of your adult life. Only it's a slow sweet beginning that feels nothing like life and all of the attending obligations it will eventually bring. So fail here. Be bad at things. Be embarrassed. Be afraid. Be vulnerable. Go out on a limb, or two, or twelve and you'll fall and it'll hurt, but the harder you fall the higher you'll rise. You louder you fail, the clearer your future becomes. Failure is a gift, welcome it.

There are people who spend their whole lives wondering how they became the people they became. How certain chances passed them by. Why they didn't take the road less traveled. Those people are not you. You have the front row seats to your own transformation and in transforming yourself you might even transform the world. And it will be electric. I promise you it'll be terrifying, but embrace that. Embrace the new person you're becoming. This is your moment. I promise you it is now. Now, not two minutes from now, not tomorrow, but really now. Own that, know that, deep in your bones go to sleep every night knowing that and wake up every morning remembering that and then keep going.

Tuna fish, over and out.