A Patient with Patience

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They say that getting sick or injured while traveling is inevitable, and I am not one to argue. I have seen the evidence of it. Consider please, kind reader, the following: 1.) While on a mission trip in Costa Rica, my mother fell in a pothole and had to have stiches above her eye. (Strike one against karma?) 2.) When I was a child the family decided to have a reunion in Florida. Being from Oklahoma, the beach was a huge deal. After driving the requisite 20 hours plus to arrive to the beach, I stepped out of the van and stubbed my toe so violently that it was left raw and unable to enter any kind of salty water for the entire week. 3.) For every time I have visited/lived in Latin America, there has been a coinciding "stomach incident" to render me incapacitated for at least a few days. The offending parasites would roll in on their trusty black horses, wearing Zorro-esque masks and brandishing swords that would, with three zig zag swipes, proclaim their authority over my insides. Never once, however, have I felt the need to visit the offending country's infirmary... until this week.

Arriving to the emergency room, I internally cursed the day Mexico was born (sometime in the year 1521, in case you were curious) and shook my imaginary fist at the sky. "Por que???" I screamed at the top of my lungs, making the last syllable very long and drawn out as I am want to do. Ignoring my outbursts, a lovely young woman all dressed in pink who I will now refer to as the "female Chris Farley" bumbled over to my side, threw a gown on the bed and said in her loveliest of gruff voices, "clothes off!" "Sir yes sir!" I replied, quickly amending my response to swing towards the female gender, the one that she was so clearly a part of.

After the first IV went in and started chilling me to the bones, female Chris Farley returned in all of her pink resplendent glory and demanded, "Are you cold!?!?" Meekly, so as not to startle the lady, I nodded and asked for another sheet, a blanket, whatever they might have on hand. Harumphing away, female Chris Farley shook the building with her lady-like steps in the search for something to keep me warm. She never returned exactly, but I did catch a glimpse of her through the gauzy curtain that kept me solidly separate from the offending noise of the outside world, entering the bathroom with a new pair of jeans her friend had brought her to try on. Let me tell you all, they looked lovely on her.

Returning from the hospital that day, I felt much better. I had eaten Jell-o, which is more than I can say of the previous 2 days, and I was able to sit up and converse with my eyes fully open. The hospital worked wonders on me.... or was it the tough love of female Chris Farley? Either way, I'm appreciative.

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