Bosnia at Thanksgiving

We are in Sarajevo this Thanksgiving though we’re supposed to be spending the holiday in Istanbul. We have been eager to see Turkey and loved the idea of being in Turkey for America’s Turkey Day. About ten days ago Roger developed a few nagging problems that two days ago turned into overwhelming pains in his lower back and groin. This occurred, of course, almost immediately after we purchased our train tickets from Sarajevo to Belgrade for what would ultimately be a thirty six hour train ride to Istanbul. Our two day odyssey navigating the health care system here, which thus far appears to have been fruitful, also gave us insight into the way many people here live (and certainly provides perspective that will likely keep us from complaining about the American health care system any time soon). We will post the details some time soon.

The gist of it is that after a lot of cab rides, two stops at the emergency room, the assistance of some kind strangers, and learning to overcome the natural shyness in asking a hostel manager how you translate various pains in the groin, we finally got what we needed.

We were very lucky to have finally reached the right doctor, and having managed that we were lucky to have been swept in, examined, and sent on our way with a recommended treatment and a diagnosis that, if nothing else, at least made sense to us despite the language barrier. We left, walking past the sympathetic and curious faces of other patients and people seeking care, feeling for the first time that the most intense part of the ordeal was behind us. We exited the blue tiled hallway to a grey autumn afternoon and we sat on a bench to collect ourselves. The stress of the day, our first medical emergency together, and the experiences we had running around town with the Sarajevo health care system kind of caught up with us on that bench and both of us broke down a little bit. Nobody is likely to believe this, but even with one of us still doubled over in pain, our ordeal seemed small indeed.

Just a half hour earlier we were sitting on the floor of the hospital hallway awaiting some sort of direction or treatment in a facility apparently without any administrative organization. Seeing us there, one of us grimacing in pain and the other in worry, a patient shuffled into his room, which he shared with a half dozen other men in various states of discomfort, and brought us a chair. We will not soon forget the man carrying the awkward thing in his hands along with a bag of what appeared to be his urine connected by a tube to somewhere under his pajamas. He watched us carefully, almost paternally, as we waited in the hallway for the doctor. He kept gesturing to us hopefully and gave us a cautious thumbs-up as we passed out of the hospital leaving him to his treatment, whatever it may be.

Our Turkey Day meal may be apples and peanut butter, traditional Bosnian cuisine, or something from the Burger King we saw near the hospital. While the traditional tastes and smells of our feast (and the Chiefs-Broncos game) may be missing (or maybe not if we wake up at 2 am to watch it live on our computer), we will have the most essential of Thanksgiving ingredients; plenty to be thankful for and some real perspective. This whole trip has been a blessing within the still larger blessings of our marriage, our families, and our friends new and old. All of you are in our thoughts today and we hope that wherever you are the stuffing is good, the desserts plentiful, and the football is on a big screen.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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