Med-Evac

There are so many Peace Corps abbreviations, terms, rules, and protocol to follow. Who knew that what was supposed to be a small cut could turn into something so big?

For those of you who are wondering what in the world happened to me, I wish I had an exciting story. I've wanted to tell people it was a machete that cut my foot while working in the garden or an iron rod while working on a stove project. I wish I had a story that had to do with a pig or a mishap with a herd of cows crossing the road. Unfortunately, the background story is not so exciting.

In Nicaragua, many of the houses are built with zinc metal sheets on the roof. At the house, there were many sheets of this metal outside in the patio because a family member is building his house. Contrary to instructions, the construction workers had not put the slabs up high on the roof nor did they cover the sharp ends with cardboard. They were simply laying on top of some concrete blocks, about 6 inches off the ground.

So, one dark night about two weeks ago, Morgan showed up. I did know that they were there, but was running around trying to make invitations for a baby shower. In my hurry, I walked out the door quickly and instead of passing through the narrow path between the car and the roof pieces I walked straight into the metal slabs, cutting the top of my foot on the sharp edge.

I was stitched up at the health center and reassured that none of the tendons had been cut. However, a week later my foot was still swollen and I was unable to walk on it. After seeing a specialist, it was determined that I had indeed cut multiple tendons and needed surgery. Within a few hours I went from having a cut to being shipped off to the U.S. for surgery.

What a whirlwind! Luckily, Peace Corps takes care of us. However, I was prepared for a vacation in the states to celebrate my sister's wedding, not for surgery and a month of recuperation. I packed my suitcase in 20 minutes, grabbed my passport, and headed back to Managua to await my flight. No goodbyes, no time to make sure I had what I needed, no time to process the reverse culture shock.

Now I have about a month at home, hoping and wishing that I recover quickly so that I can finish up the short time I have left in Nicaragua. To some, it may seem simple. Just be done, why not? I've already served 22 months in Nicaragua, accomplished many goals, and changed a great deal. But 22 months is not what I signed up for. 22 months does not give me the time to finish up the projects and trainings I had left on my list of goals. 22 months does not give me the same feeling of accomplishment of finishing my service with the other 39 people who started it with me. 22 months does not give me the full year with my students to watch them grow and change. 22 months and a sudden departure did not give me the time to say goodbye to the many people I have gotten to know and love over the course of my time in Nicaragua. 22 months just doesn't cut it.

You never know when something might happen and it may be the worst timing in the world. But all there is to do when it does is keep your head up, smile, and hope for the best. That is what I plan to do as I hope to be cleared to go back to Nicaragua to finish what I started.