Adding Insult to Injury

Illness and injury are two afflictions that tend to shadow members of PC throughout their time outside of the states, for various reasons. Quite obviously, the developing world can be characterized by substandard sanitation, medical techniques which are scarce and antiquated, and the presence of diseases and illnesses which are products of geographical location, climate and weather patterns, or a simple inability to vaccinate everyone.

The same goes for injuries; the lifestyle here tends to be coarse and physical, the landscape rugged and sometimes resistant to human improvements like roads or stairs. In short, if you gotta move a bag of cement, you sling it over your shoulder and head off on your way. Injuries and illnesses come and go down here, and this week we got a visit from each.

Crystal was doing some exercises at the house last week when she heard something crack in her neck. Later, she turned her head to do something and fell over, not understanding what had just happened. After the local doctor recommended some injections for an obviously non-injectable condition, pc decided to send her to Tegucigalpa to visit a neurosurgeon. The problem was traced back to a rather severe car accident that Crystal had when she was sixteen, which had caused two of her vertebrae to become pinched together over the years.

The treatment was a week’s course of massages (the good) along with electroshock therapy (the bad). Since she was stuck in Tegucigalpa for a week, and being the supportive husband that I am, I came down to help her out. The allure of international cuisine and free hotel rooms playing a minor role in my decision making process.

But, as irony would have it, I became violently ill mere hours after getting into the city. Now, illness is one of those things that you tend to shake off; its frequency makes it more of an inconvenience than an event, kinda like waiting in line at the bank. And this one was like many others: super high fever, stomach cramps, diarrhea, total body aches, delusions, etc. The next day I was still hurtin', but determined not to let it slow me down, I went to the mall with Crystal.

I was still miserable with a temperature, stomach problems, and a pounding migraine, yet determined to continue with my plans. The mall is the place for the moneyed class in Honduras to hangout, just walking around the mall dictates a certain social eliteness that most Hondurans could never dream of achieving. Now, this next part is a little delicate, and perhaps reveals more about myself than I would like, so bear with me. Let’s just say that an unknown symptom of whatever terrible illness I was harboring was random and spontaneous defecation. More bluntly, I was so sick that I soiled myself while at the mall.

Fortunately, this is an incident where I can mentally insulate myself with the cause of illness, but it remains a harrowing and embarrassing event; the “going to school naked” dream has nothing on this reality. And surrounded by the crème de crème of Honduras didn't make things easy, either. Given the circumstances, I handled it well; I went the bathroom and cleaned up, and concealed my shame, and then we beat tracks for the hotel. Crystal was extremely supportive during this ordeal, although she has not stopped laughing uncontrollably since. Today I had some tests done, we’ll find out tomorrow what illness causes this, and then I will start a foundation to fight it internationally.

Once again, this life is all about resilience, you learn to deal with aches and illnesses that would normally confine you to bed, you learn to deal with situations that would normally force you to move to a new town and start a new life. Finding the personal strength to deal with whatever comes your way validates your need to walk around the mall with a sweatshirt tied around your waist. Sometimes personal growth means public embarrassment.
simon