Desmayarse

On Monday morning we packed a bag of toys, a water bottle and a grocery shopping list, and headed to the office of a local doctor.  For the past five+ years there have been four lumps growing on my scalp, and they had finally become big enough as to need removal.  The doctor had told me it would be an easy surgery under local anesthetic, and I could walk myself home afterwards.  I decided I’d bring the family anyway, but we planned to do the grocery shopping on the way home so as to make “good use” of the walk to town. 

We arrived at the office on-time and were told that the doctor would not be there for another half an hour.  Of course.  How silly of us. 

When everything was finally ready and I was ushered into the room they told me that Dave couldn’t come in with me.  He had to stay in the waiting room where a nurse had turned on an episode of “Paw Patrol” for Z to watch.  No big deal.  I put in my earbuds and relaxed in the chair.  Cool as a cucumber. 

“You’ve given birth without drugs,” I told myself, “You’ve totally got this.  You are superwoman.” 

And then, he poked me with the first needle of anesthetic. 

It hurt about 50x more than I expected it to, and instantly I felt woozy.  My vision started to blacken and I knew I was close to passing out... I started panicking.  What was the word for “to faint” in Spanish?  I couldn’t remember it!  I was already passing out when I said, in English, “I’m going to faint”. 

The last thing I remember is the doctor saying, “Que manda?”. (“What did you say?” )

When I regained consciousness, the nurse was ushering Dave into the room and he sat in a chair in front of me, holding my hand and talking to me in English.  We talked about everything—except the tugging sensation in my head as the doctor removed the mass from my skin.  He had to add anesthetic for each lump, and each time I almost passed out again. 

The last lump was the smallest, but it gave the doctor the most trouble.  He had me lay down on the table, which was good because if he hadn’t, I surely would have lost consciousness again.  He worked for at least fifteen minutes trying to dig the lump out of my skin.  The nurse seemed confused by what she was supposed to be doing and kept leaving the room. 

At one point the doctor made a mistake and said, “Uh-oh, disculpe!”  (Uh-oh, my bad)

Dave and I almost started laughing.  Two words you never want to hear a doctor say when he’s operating on your head:  Uh-oh. 

In the end though, he stitched me up and we were sent home.  The shopping trip was forgotten as I stumbled through the streets and finally made it home.  Dave brought the computer in the bedroom so I could watch movies all afternoon and even made me a lasagne for dinner (my favorite!). 

It’s been a long, somewhat difficult recovery week, but surprisingly the feeling that I’m left with is thankfulness.  I was able to get the medical help I needed to remove painful lumps from my head.  Many people in Guatemala (and globally) have to suffer through sickness without any way to get the medical intervention they need.  I am thankful to God for His provision in not only health care, but also for giving me a kind husband to walk with me every step of the way.

Oh, and I also learned to say “to faint”.  Look at my vocabulary growing!  J 

 

Resting at home