Nicaragua Crisis ~ An Encounter with the Health Clinic...

Sorry it has taken me so long to get this posted. Life happens. So without further ado...

sorry, no photos allowed inside public buildings

Saturday night after the second supply run, I was feeling totally exhausted and very dizzy. So with the room spinning madly, I tucked myself into my little bed and Will’s cat Toby came to curl up at my feet.

I spent a restless night and finally dozed off after 2:20 am. I wasn’t aware of anything around me until Will came in a gently shook my shoulder and asked if I was alright. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings and realize that the morning sun was beaming through the curtains.

Will had brought me some orange juice and helped me sit up. The dizziness was much worse than yesterday. I couldn’t sit up straight. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew this was not good and I would need medical help.

A stroke must have gone through Will’s mind as he checked my blood pressure, glucose levels, pupils and the strength in my hands. All my sons have advanced first aid. I am sure that having a dad that was a paramedic and mom as a nurse specialist rubbed off on them too.

Will made the executive decision to call our friend Erwin to drive us into the 24-hour clinic in Sutiava, 25 minutes away. No meat wagons for me, please. Abuela Socorro and our new mama helped me to get dressed.

Erwin arrived within 20 minutes. No one asked him how many laws he broke getting here. First words out of his mouth when he saw me was “Oh, mi Dios, Mama!” (He has always called me his mama.) I guess I looked ill…

I think I had more hands than I really required to get me out to the car and strapped in. Of course, everyone wants to come too. That is what they do here. When a family member is sick, everyone goes to make sure they get proper care.

We finally make out to the highway and we saw a parade of blue Hilux 4x4 coming towards us with a large number of bearded men in black uniforms armed with high powered rifles. Will quickly called the compound to warn the guys to be on the alert. Something is afoot.

I saw Erwin tense up as the trucks passed us. People here are terrified of the men in black, and with good reason. Nothing good happens when they are in the neighbourhood.

It was still early and Erwin found a parking spot on the street in front of the clinic. Will and Erwin helped me into the waiting area and sat me in a metal chair closest to the door to the treatment area. This is a take a number and wait your turn (or first come, first served experience at its best)

There were only six clients ahead of me, but the staff needed their breaks and there was a shift change too, so we were there for quite a while before it was my turn.

Meanwhile, in the street out in front, there were more men in black gathering and they did not look like happy campers. We heard mortars going off from somewhere in the barrio directly in front of the clinic.

People in the waiting area were discussing whether or not it would be prudent to leave now or wait to be seen. A few left quickly through a back exit.

We heard the men in black before they actually entered the clinic. They weren’t exactly in stealth mode. Erwin quickly told me to lay my head against Will and for him to put his arm around my shoulders. He said he would do the talking for us. Better for us to act like naive tourists.

I half closed my eyes but I was definitely aware that there were at least three rather burly guys in black uniforms with dirty boots standing directly in front of us. They started questioning why we were here and where we were from. Erwin spoke up, said we didn’t speak much Spanish and were vacationing at the beach when I got sick.

They wanted to see our passports and Erwin made some lame excuse that we had left in a hurry and didn’t bring anything with us. I didn’t think this would fly very far but as luck would happen another group of guys came trooping in and said they needed to go. Quickly. They all turned around and headed whence they came.

My heart was still pounding in my chest when I was called into the treatment area. I couldn’t believe that we had managed to escaped a serious problem. I glanced back at Will and Erwin before the door closed with the kind of look that only a mother can give her kids. The kind that says, behave yourselves and for heaven’s sake stay out of trouble!

Once inside, I was told to sit on a rickety old metal chair in front of a desk covered in loose papers that the overworked fan sitting in the corner was trying hard to blow off. The doctor appeared from behind a curtain and looked like she hadn’t had a wink of sleep in days.

The place had a very particular odour permeating the tiny enclosed space. I really didn’t try to identify the odious odour. I felt a little like Ludo in Labyrinth.

The doctor told the nurse to take my blood pressure, which was normal. In a very condescending tone of voice, she asked me why I was there. I told her it was because I am extremely dizzy and can’t stand up straight. Had I been drinking? No, I had not.

She dug around in a bottom drawer of the desk and brings out a dusty black zippered case, opened it up and took out an old looking otoscope, I assume to check my ears. Yup. None too gently she looked into both ears.

Do I have any medical conditions? Yes, I am diabetic. Hmmm, was the reply. She dug around in a cupboard next to the desk and asked into the cupboard if anyone had accompanied me. Yes, of course, they did.

I took this opportunity to ask the doctor what medicine was she going to give me and if it was to be IV. If it is, then she will require extra fine needles, something like a butterfly needle (in Canada, don’t know what it is called in other countries) because my veins are small and fragile. I know from experience. The nurse took a look and nodded her head in agreement.

By this time the doctor is not pleased with me. How dare I question her expertise and authority. Sorry, but I have been down this road before. She hasn’t even asked if I have allergies. She has ordered a medicine similar to Gravol for the dizziness. Maybe it will be okay...

She sent the nurse out to bring Will in. The doctor extricated herself from the cupboard, asked the nurse if they have any fine needles, to which she replied, no.

Then she scribbled something on a loose piece of paper, handed it to Will, and basically told him to go fetch these things from some pharmacy. A look of disbelief passed over his face as he heads out the door. I told him he had better buy a few extra needles. The last time in this clinic they used up 5!

Erwin knew of a pharmacy that was open close by and they returned in about 15 minutes. During that time I am left alone in this smelly place to wait while the doctor and nurse go somewhere else. I don’t dare move as I am afraid if I do, I may fall off the chair and onto the filthy floor.

Erwin and Will returned in less than 15 minutes. I said. Wow! That was quick! Will just smiled and said that Erwin drove fast! I didn’t ask. Sometimes it is just better not to know.

The nurse returned and God Bless her, she got the vein on the first try! 10 minutes later she said I was good to go but the doctor had to write a prescription first.

The doctor returned and dug around in the cupboard some more and brought out a couple of packets of pills. She sat down at the desk and started scribbling on a more official looking paper this time. Handed me the two packets of pills with instructions to take them every eight hours.

The paper had an order for a blood test...for cholesterol. High cholesterol had to be the reason behind my dizziness!!!

I think a look of disbelief probably passed over my face at this point. Okay, and she made this diagnosis from looking at me for all of 10 minutes and looking into my ears? Doesn’t inspire me with much confidence.

The nurse called in Will to help me out to the car. I wasn’t quite as dizzy. I was really ready to return to the compound. Before I left I told the nurse that I wanted to donate the other 5 needles to the clinic. She was very appreciative. The doctor, I couldn’t care less what she thought.

On the way back, Will called the compound to see if our friends in black had come to pay a visit. No, they hadn’t visited the compound but something was happening at the beach, so we should take an alternated route home, which we did.

My family (friends and neighbours now living with me) were busy little beavers while we were away. They had amassed the troops so to speak. My friend the herbalist was there along with a few other friends that are pretty well versed in all things medical; another nurse and a veterinarian are among those that were waiting for my return.

The way things are here now, I just do better with a veterinarian! At least I know this one's clinic is clean and he is well stocked with medications!

I am not used to all this fuss over me. I find this embarrassing. I appreciate their concern and affection for me but, really, I told them I would be fine in a day or two. They weren’t taking that for an answer. They were bound and determined to get to the bottom of things.

I must say they had really organized themselves well. Someone had taken the Cling-ons to the other side of the compound and were playing some Dodge Ball with a colourful beach ball. Socorro had arranged for help in the kitchen to prepare a meal. The guys had set up a nice comfy spot under the rancho where obviously my treatment was to begin.

We went over what I had done, where I had been and with whom in the past few days. We retraced every step of those days. Someone was keeping track of everything with a pencil and paper. (we aren’t very high tech, here)

I was given a medicinal herb refresco to drink, and once they were downed, plenty of water. In between, I was made to drink glasses of an electrolyte drink they call Suero. I thought my eyes would float!

Time for lunch! I had no idea how I was supposed to eat when I was filled to the brim with fluids! Lunch was catered to our small healing group. Grilled fish, our obligatory rice and beans, fresh goat cheese, garden salad (the kids choice of veggies and fruits) and fresh, warm tortillas. And of course, iced herbal tea to drink! I was really impressed. These folks have come a long way in good eating habits in the past few months.

Afterwards, it was time to pour over the data that they had gathered from me and observations from others. They were determined to find the cause and a cure.

The conclusion that was drawn in the end was that both days I did the supply run were extremely hot. I had forgotten to take my water bottles with me and when stopped I had coffee, not water so in all likelihood I was somewhat dehydrated. I am not used to being out in the blazing sun for two days at a time, without a hat. I am bad at that. I tell others to wear a hat and then I don’t.

Eating out at McDonald’s is not the best option either. I knew there was a reason I disliked eating there! Also having a double shot espresso coffee on Saturday morning, on an empty stomach wasn’t smart either.

Stress also is not great for a body. It tends to do strange things. No matter how much you think you have de-stressed when you live in a war zone, the underlying stress is always with you.

I was non-too gently reminded that I am not a spring chicken anymore. My mind may think I am a twenty-one year old, but the body has just reminded me that it is otherwise.

I have been told I will need to revamp the supply runs and perhaps send someone else in the future. Something that will be difficult for a control freak like me.

I am really grateful to the Creator for providing me with a family and friends who love me. I am thankful that I have recovered as quickly as I have from my misadventures. And I thank you for reading my blog for without you, there would not be a reason to document these stories.