I've been told I should write a book...

Sometimes opportunities just fall into your lap.  

PLOP.  

I think the opportunity to write a book on Guatemalan medical options and clinics has officially fallen in mine. Or at least Juli says so.  

This year has not been a year of stupendous health.  I'm not sure why, but it hasn't.  My stomach has hated me (details stop there), I have given shelter and food to amoebas, various parasites, and a killer bacterial infection, I have had the flu and various colds approximately every other week, and I got to play with Staph infection.  Fun, right?  Oh wait, it gets funner, my appendix was removed!  (and for that, I get to claim that funner is in fact a word)

But, I'm not so angry about it.  

I was, don't get me wrong.  But, now I'm just content.  The cascade of overwhelming health things out of my control has caused me to learn what brokenness is from the inside out (pun intended).  I have been broken of my addiction to physical activity (it's hard to go on a run when you can't breathe or leave the bano...) and therefore the pride I placed on being fit and able to do anything (because, evidently, I can't).  I have been broken of my pride in being able to eat anything except meat (which was a US distinction I made by choice) because here I seem to have to eat white meat and I can't eat bread. I have been forced to face my weaknesses head on.  Through this brokenness, I've been forced to call out to God and stop running and have learned who He is in a whole new way. And, while all this has been going on, I've had a lot of interesting encounters with Guatemalan medical professionals.

There was the first doctor.  He was a naturalpathic dude and he was very intrigued by the gringa in his office.  So intrigued, in fact, that he didn't really listen and ended up just giving me a ton of green, leafy pills that all looked, smelled, and tasted the same and had no reason for being in my posession.

Then, there was the second doctor.  She was also naturalpathic.  She also didn't listen really well and I ended up on her patient table being told to lay there for 30minutes and think of the color blue.  Then she gave me some drops and sent me on my way.  

Then, the third doctor used Western medicine that I was used to, but he had never heard of Staph infection and didn't seem to knowledgeable about the parasite that I had either.  His meds cost a lot and didn't look promising (I somehow managed to return them for a full refund)

Then, the fourth doctor was the pastor at the Episcopal church.  I had a nasty flu and couldn't move (happy birthday to me!) so we went there and he gave me malaria meds...  not the same.

Then, the fifth doctor was at the free Catholic medical center... she was dynamite!  For the 3 minutes I got to talk to her.

Then, I went to the Mayan doctor.  She is the sister of my host mom and practices traditional Mayan medicine with a hint of Chinese medicine.  She had me point at pictures and then let her pendulum go.  If it moved side to side, I had the ailment in the picture. If it moved in a circle, I didn't.  It was actually ridiculously accurate.  Then, after the diagnoses, we did the same system with what food I should eat.  It said that flour isn't what makes me sick, it's yeast (yay for being able to eat cookies again!), that I should only eat one fruit each Monday (it picked the fruit too), and gave me a tea of different grasses to drink every day for 20 days.  And... as ridiculous as it sounds, all this was WAY MORE effective than any of the aforesaid doctors.  Yay!  

Then, I got major stomach pains and my Mayan doctor said I needed to go to the hospital.  So did my host mom, Marcia, and Tina.  So, I went and... after blood tests, 5 attempts at an IV (with three nurses all not wearing gloves), and a really cold ultrasound (reason 459 for not having a baby), I was diagnosed with appendicitis and got to go into surgery with a 30 minute notice.  About five minutes before, I was informed that I wouldn't be getting general anesthesia, I would get a Spinal Block.  Yay... not really... terrifying!  But, in the end, all went well and I was released from the hospital (after having to call Malea and Kyra to bail me out because I had to pay in cash or I couldn't leave), and now I'm home in the hands of the abuelos who are the best care takers ever (next to Tina who spent the night with me in the hospital!) and their traditional pain remedies are doing a whole lot better than the sketchy pain meds I got from the doctor.

I'm so grateful for all these opportunities (and the ridiculous amount of stories I now have).  I hope that the next 2.5 months don't bring anymore stories, but if they do, I'm ready.  I've gone from blaming God to asking him to help me, and when I accept him on my team, life is a whole lot easier to face.

It's also a lot easier to face when on your team is a super sweet host sister who decorates your room and cleans all your sheets when you come home from the hospital :)

 And my new life mantra:  "Don't plan your life because tomorrow you may get appendicitis in the developing world."