Operación Triunfo

It's not a popular Academy Contest Program widely broadcast throughout Spain. Neither it is a mysterious mission that I've been in charge. Well...not likely...at least :P

It appeared that I was wrong about the summary of my last post. The worst was still there haunting me like a sadistic ghost during the night that followed. What happened then?

I was operated on Monday's morning at 9.00 a.m. for Appendicitis.

Yeah, that was what it all about...baby

I ate, I swam and I suffered.

Should I go to see the doctor earlier, I wouldn't have had to suffer all that scary experience, because they would have me operated anyway sooner or later. Hmm, let bygones be bygones.

6.00 am, Sunday : I was suddenly drawn from my slumber into reality by a sharp pain in my abdomen. I went down to the Consejería and asked the security guard Josefa to call for a taxi which later on took me at a slow pace to the hospital.

Curious is the way "they" work and coordinate here. The emergency service and quick response were to be expected just like in Bangkok; male nurses were supposed to be promted to attend any incoming serious patient. No one was at the Emergency Unit and I was told through an intercom to use the main entrance, 10 - 15 meters away, which was considerably far for my condition. It took something like 15 minutes to put me in a room waiting for analysis and another 20 minutes or so for a night-shift doctor to do the paper work and analyze my symptom. Everything was incredibly slow :(

And then there came the most generous "médica" I had encountered ever. With serious face and unfriendly look, she asked me questions and questions about my personal information and what I had done before. Normal paper work and analysis basics. For me it wasn't so, I have to admit that my so-called perfect Spanish level had drastically dropped to subzero. I hardly caught a word and had to ask her to repeat many times.

This didn't seem to please this "I am the only one in the world who works hard" doctor. Her face became even more irritated and her voice rose higher than the level I call "annoying". Everything she did to me, for me at least, seemed that way.

But who cares?!?!? Just have it analyzed and do something!!! As long as she could cure me, I didn't care what she said.

I might be subjective on this matter but have to say that I felt mentally disturbed then. The following day my case was transferred to a new doctor; more amiable, friendly and confident. It was then I realised that I wasn't being subjective! She could treat me civilly as this kind doctor but she did not.

I thank all the divinity that exists in the Heavenly Abode for getting rid of that foul witch for me :D

This is the most impressive experience during my stay in the hospital. Even the operation itself can't beat it. The tormenting post-operation days were annoying but promising. The visit of my beloved friends yielded me lots of will to talk and move. The kind nurses were as attentive, caring and hard-working as they could possibly be (However, I had no idea how they managed to fit their "girl fight activity" in their busy timetable when I heard them blaming each other "for not having responsibilities" in the corridor in front of my room).

Now I'm safe and sound in my beloved Africa again. The day looks gloomily yellow with autumn rain sprinkling lazily all over Madrid which is perfect for locking myself in the room writing blogs and keeping up on what I have missed during my convalescence.

Until next time when I come up with something new, just don't go jumping or doing sports after having meal!!

True Fear

Today I cooped up in the room all day long. Not that I didn't wanna go out, but I recently developed an intestinal intoxication last night (as I always did in the past few years). Although the pain wasn't as intense as it should have been, it left me devasted in the bed.

I lay on my side, shifting position every minute. Once the pain attacks the abdomen, you can be sure that you will never rest peacefully that night. It was annoying but not striking this time. I kept telling myself that it would all be over soon. Suddenly, I felt a piercing cold claiming its territory over every inch of my body. My legs and arms started shaking like mad, then my jaws and the whole body. It was penetrating as if the temperature had suddenly dropped to zero. After tolerating such chilling pain for five minutes, I decidedly stumbled to the wardrobe to get two thick blanket and sweaters to put on. Every effort that I spent on this task seemed impossible with my legs and arms trembling, making me unable to hold on to anything.

Despite of a great quantity of clothes and blankets, I didn't feel any warmer. My whole body kept shaking, disobeying my attempt to stop this crazy physical rebellion. My muscles tensed and the urge of flexing my limbs came over me. I tried to fold and stretch my legs but then they shook harder than before so that I had to get back into the position that I had been. The fever must have been high. I felt desperate and, more startling, the first true fear of death in my life.

Never before in my life I felt such tremendous fear. I thought of my family and friends in Thailand, my Patto who would be working on a night shift in a restaurant in San Francisco. I thought of my beloved friends who had been here for me in Africa. Only if they had been there with me, I would have called them to take me to the hospital. Nothing is scarrier than having no one beside you while suffering that kind of pain.

As the thought of calling for help stroke me, I tried to sit up and reach the phone unsuccessfully. I fell on the bed one more time, curled up like a baby, telling myself to rest for a few minutes in order to gather the last effort to reach the phone; and that was when the tiredness and dream victoriously overcame me.

I fell asleep until the golden shining ray of sunlight slipped through the iron curtain of my room. Alone, tired, suffered and desperate, I woke up and fell back to sleep for five or six time. In one of these phase-in-phase-out progress, I remembered trying to vomit in the basin but nothing came out. Torturing it was I can say. My head ached, my teeth gritted while a variety of unrealistic events came into my slumber.

At 4 p.m. I woke up refreshed. The agonizing pain lessened and body vibration had stopped. I gathered myself to remember what had happened last night. It was a nightmare but real. I was glad to be there again, concious and bettter.

The worst gone. Fear repelled. And I...relieved.

However, the horror of that night had already been imprinted on my memory and... forgotten it won't be.