Let’s see………what happened after Isaac? Do I remember? Liz came to visit for a couple days! It was just like the old days with bananagrams and jokes that nobody but us understood. A lot of time to rest and watch movies. I was called up, without warning, to recite Psalm 23 in French in front of Valentin’s church. Nailed it. I hurt my neck. I tried, and failed, to mentally prepare myself for leaving my honey and coming home.
Monday I went with Wesley into Port-au-Prince. We planned to go see the national museum and his linguistics university. The tap-tap rides took about 2 hours, in traffic. When we got to the museum, we discovered it was more expensive than we had expected and twice as expensive for me because I am an étrangère. We tried to trick them into accepting my torn $20 bill, but it didn’t work, so we had to leave without seeing anything. I was bummed to say the least. But, we walked to the linguistics university so I could see where Wesley had taken classes, though it is dramatically different after the earthquake. It was extremely hot and I’m pretty sure we were both dehydrated when we returned. I was feeling dizzy and nauseated. Even though some of our plans didn’t work out, we enjoyed a day out together and I was happy with that.
Ok…I never run out of Andrea-gets sick or injured-stories:
That night, Monday night, I felt really weak. I went to sleep feeling nauseous. In the middle of the night, I woke up to go to the bathroom. I was feeling pretty terrible and, when I sat down, nearly passed out and the flashlight slipped through my fingers and clattered to the floor. It was pitch-black because there was no electricity so, when I panicked and tried to get out of my room to find help, I ran face first into the concrete wall. I staggered out with a bloody nose and an aching face, my body shaking and in a cold sweat. Fortunately, Valentin and Nadege were sleeping upstairs because it was too hot downstairs. They heard me when I hit the wall and fell to the floor, so they were on their way to see me. They cleaned me up and Wesley came and slept on the floor next to me. A couple hours later, I woke up vomiting, then got some on-and-off sleep. On Tuesday, my fever fluctuated between 99.5 and 102.5 F throughout the day. I watched Wall-E with Stellecy and Wesley brought me cold cloths. By 7pm my temperature was about 103 F and rising and, an hour later, when it reached 104 F, we decided I needed to go to the hospital. At the “hospital,” I sat in a wheelchair in a little room crammed with people. I could barely open my eyes because everything bounced and I barely felt them sick a needle into my hand. When I told Wesley I was thirsty, he asked the nurse if they had water and she told him he could go to the street and buy some. No water at a hospital?? Then, when the doc wanted to do a physical exam, he asked if we brought a sheet to put on the bed. Bring a sheet to a hospital?? I would never have thought that was necessary, so I laid on the bare plastic. They never even asked me what my name is. I got prescriptions that I wouldn’t have time to fill before I left early the next morning, and we went home to go to bed.
Wednesday morning, I got up at 5:45 to finish packing and leave for the airport at 6:30. I still had a 100 F fever and was physically feeling weak, but I had to make it home. The first two planes were delayed, I had to run around for my third one, then I had a 2.5 hour layover in Los Angeles…this is frustrating because it is so close to home. I made it homehome around midnight. I don’t know if there is anything I hate more than that long day of travel.
I’m back in San Diego. I think this time is harder than ever. I got to spend over two months with my favorite person and now I don’t know when we can see each other again. It’s hard, but we keep doing it.