On the Mend. . .

Last week was tough for us. Emma and I both came down with nasty coughs, worse than I can ever remember us having. Mollie had the flu, and Barbara had to go back to the States for a family funeral. I felt so isolated. Not only was I sick, I had tons of emotional/spiritual stuff going on. I just felt awful. Depressed might not be an overstatement. We had been back here for over a month and I was feeling like I was going through another transition period. I was so excited to come back here and live, but everything seemed to be so hard. It was the same way when we moved here and after our first trip home last December. Maybe I should have been prepared to readjust to life here, but I wasn't. Being sick made me want to be home all the more.
Wednesday and Thursday morning I woke up with pain in my chest, probably from all the crud in my lungs. It scared me. It must have scared Kevin a little, too, because he made an appointment for me to see a doctor here, something I've never done. So last Thursday afternoon, we drove over to the clinic here in town and I met Dr. Ortiz. Seemed like a nice enough guy. Emma was terrified of him and started crying. Even though she knew I was the one who was being seen, she totally freaked out. I made Kevin take her out and then it was just the doc and me. We talked and I told him all about my sickness. I sat up on the exam table and he began listening to my lungs. As an afterthought, I showed him a few red dots that had appeared on my chest and back. What I didn't realize was that the dots were all over. He forgot all about my lungs and starting focusing on my back. After a few minutes of examining the dots, he told me he was pretty sure I had Varicela. Pretty much the same word in English, Varicella - Chickenpox!!! I wasn't sure how to respond. I told him I didn't itch. I hadn't had a fever. I had the chickenpox when I was a kid. He seemed annoyed that I would question his diagnosis. I was annoyed and slightly confused. He then ordered a chest x-ray for peace of mind. I left his office and we drove to the hospital for the x-ray. Kevin about fell over when I told him I was diagnosed with the chickenpox. He immediately lost confidence in the doctor. Well, I had the x-ray done and took it back to the doctor. (On a side note: processes here are a little different.) He held the x-ray up to the light, pointed out some inflammation in my lungs, gave me a prescription for an expectorant and some calamine lotion for my chickenpox and I was on my way.
So, all that was slightly humorous (looking back, anyway), but when I got home, I just seemed to lose it. I was in tears most of the afternoon. I wondered, if I didn't have chickenpox, what other disease had I acquired in this country?? My mind started wandering and then I just wished I could leave this country and move. Then I was crying because I couldn't leave. Then I talked to a sister on the phone and her love and compassion and the way she validated my feelings made me cry even more. By the time I picked Kevin up from work, my eyes were swollen, and all the handkerchiefs in our house were covered in snot. Lovely. I was a mess. Kevin thought someone had died. I sobbed all the way home and then just stood in the kitchen crying about everything from the chickenpox to missing my mom to feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and insecurity about not having it all together. He held me and finally said, "Sandi, it's OK not to be OK. I love you." Then I cried even harder.
It was so therapeutic for me to cry like that. Sometimes my heart just hurts. Sometimes it's for a totally ridiculous reason but it hurts nonetheless. Sometimes I forget that a good cry is needed AND it's OK.
I went to bed early that night. I woke up early and went out to the couch with my Bible and journal. I talked to God and I wrote out my heart. That was even more therapeutic than the good cry. I read chapters like Psalm 139 and decided to memorize Zephaniah 3:17, "The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love. He will rejoice over you with singing." He is with me. He is with me. I am not alone, no matter what lie seems to be real.
Well, that day (Friday) was the first day I felt halfway normal. I've been feeling better each day. Emma is totally over whatever she had and I'm probably 90%. Oh, and funny thing about my chickenpox - they went away:) A night or two before I broke out, I woke sweating in my bed. My shirt was soaked and our room was so hot. Kevin woke up too and we had to turn on the fan. The weather here has been up and down so much lately. Well, I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure my "chickenpox" were just little zits from my overly sweaty body. Kind of gross, but much preferred to the alternative.
Thanks for praying. Thanks for the notes of encouragement. Thanks so much!