Curveball, Part 1

Sometimes life tosses you a curveball.  And sometimes, that curveball comes in the form of keys, which then proceed to hit you in the eye.  Directly in the eye. 

Three nights ago I got my first curveball, and consequently, the past few days have more or less sucked.  There isn’t a much better way to put it.  I never really realized how hard life can get when you can’t use one of your senses that you current job depends on.  Why couldn’t it have been smell.  I don’t need that.  In fact, with as much as it’s been raining around here, and with extensive presence of open pit latrines, losing my sense of smell would have been a luxury. But no, instead I lose my sight.

I blame that filho de puta Karma Spider for this one.  But don’t worry, the story has a happy ending (well, the ending is still being written, but it’s looking up).

So here’s the story: 

Three days ago (Tuesday the 16th), I woke up and felt great.  Real great.  Everything just seemed to be in its right place.  I only had to wake up to pee once during the night (the Malaria Pills rarely allow me to make it through the night without having to wake up at least once to use the Xi-Xi Bucket; they also give you really weird dreams), I managed to avoid having any Malaria medication-induced lucid nightmares, the morning air was nice and warm, the water from our distribution point was clean (which meant I didn’t have to bath in dirty water!), the scorpion I saw on the way to the Casa de Banho was dead, and the Karma spider wasn’t there when I took my bucket shower.  Honestly, I’m not sure you can ask for a better start to your day at 6am.  And it only got better from there.

My jovial spirit kept up as I sat through language class and a technical training session, then grew when I came home to an amazing lunch of sautéed kale and fresh fruit.  What did I do to deserve this!  The rest of the day was equally enjoyable as I had more language and tech, but as the sun began to set, so too did my delightful disposition.

As I entered the Casa de Banho to take my second bucket shower of the day (I take two a day, one in the morning and one at night), I couldn’t help but notice that my omnipresent spider stalker was positioned a little too close for comfort on the tin wall next to where I hang my towel and clothing while I bath.  Beaming with confidence as a result of a day chalk-full of positivity, I decided to take action. It was time for me to establish dominance and remind this creepy little jerk about his place in the evolutionary food chain. Observe the power of opposable thumbs you bastard!

I used the end of a broom to brush the spider off the wall and into a bucket, which I then tossed out of the little bathing shack and onto the ground outside.  Having just rocked his entire world, the beast then ran for cover in the nearby rocks.  Satisfied, I laughed as the coward fled the scene of our second battle, thus confirming my victory.  Or so I thought…

As I finished up a pleasant bathing experience, I began to dry off.  That’s when disaster struck.  I had my keys on a lanyard around my neck (we have a big key that we use to lock our rooms when we aren’t there), and when I went to bend over and towel my legs, they whipped around and took out my eye.  I grimaced; I cursed; then I hoped.  I hoped that I hadn’t just done what I thought I did.

It was Ms. Peacock with the key in the Casa de Banho.

After taking a few minutes to collect myself and accept the fact that the horrendous shooting pain was probably not going away anytime soon, I retreated to my room to rummage through the medical kit Peace Corps had given me for anything that might make me feel better.  Eye drops.  After suffering through a one-eyed dinner, I excused myself early so I could immediately go to bed.  I was in dire need of a nice long period of time in which I didn’t have to open my eye.

I managed to sleep through the night, but the next morning the pain was still there.  It felt like someone had left a dull axe just to the right of my pupil.  It hurt when it was open; it hurt when it was closed.  It was only 6:20AM and life already sucked a whole lot.  And then I found out that our water was once again not working.  This was day number two of this, and my supply of already filtered water was starting to run dry.  I could tell that today was gonna be good. 

I called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer), and lady on the line told me to take some Tylenol and go about my day.  I did just that, all the while wearing a big pair of sunglasses.  Language class was tough, Tech (Technical Class, where we learn how to be teachers) was even harder.  Both involve a lot of reading and writing, which made it all the more inconvenient that I had one eye that did work and another that was hypersensitive to light.  When I finally got home that night, I did pretty much the same thing I had done the night before: eat and then sleep.  Sleeping helped; it helped me forget that I had ripped open my eyeball.

Thursday morning was pretty similar to Wednesday.  I woke up and was quickly reminded about what I had done to myself just a few nights before.  My eye was swollen, crusty and red.  I had to use my finger to wipe the crust away just so I could open it up (apologies for the visual, but I’m trying to be as dramatic as possible).  I called PCMO again, and this time she said that the Doctor would be into town that day for the big group meetings we were having (Hub Day as it’s known around here, when all the trainees get together in one location for culture and health classes), and would check my eye out there.  Until then, I would have to continue to endure what felt like the worst injury that anyone has ever had to suffer through, ever.

Around lunch time, I finally had my chance.  The doctor gave me the once over and told me the bad news.  I was dying.  But, before she’d let me crossover, she first wanted to send me down to Maputo to get checked out by a specialist, just to make sure I really was doomed. I had an appointment at 5pm on Friday.  At this point, my eye had already stopped hurting.  Well, it still hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been.  I was easily able to ignore the pain and focus on dealing with the blurry vision and presence of humongous, swollen eye syndrome instead.  The doctor’s news helped out a lot though, and my gloomy mood took an immediate 180.  Maputo.  All would be better in Maputo.