More Drama, More TRAUMA

Things are continuing to wind down, but there have been some fun activities lately.

Carnival was this past week. I didn’t jump in a band (ie: get dressed up in a sparkly costume and run around in the street), but I went with Angela to watch the parade in town. It was fun to watch, but it seemed like they played one song for the entire parade. At least it wasn’t "Pee Pee in my Poo Poo" this year.

Last weekend a few of the other volunteers got together and threw a combination going-away party for Deb, Lauren and Me; and 30^th birthday party for Deb and Angela. It was held at the Garage Bar, a funky Rasta bar in town that is home to a great open mic. The owner, Michelle, is a great Friend of Peace Corps, and is very generous to us. We had a great turn-out. I was a bit disappointed that some of my work friends didn’t come, but all of Deb’s and my "joint" friends came, so that made for a fun time. Noted attendees were the gym crew, many of the Peace Corps, the Japanese volunteers, the boat guys, and assorted going-out friends and bar flies. Especially notable were Jerry and Arturo, who each flew in for the party, from St. Vincent and Barbados, respectively. That was a great surprise! The bar was good sized, so people were all over doing their own thing, including several Rasta fellas, who are regulars at the bar, and just happened to be there that night. Some people brought food, so there was eating, darts, dancing, etc. As are many of our functions, this was a "Model UN" event, with people from US, Canada, Germany, Japan, Switzerland, France, Mexico, St. Lucia, Guyana, South Africa, New Zealand, Scotland, St. Vincent, and Barbados.

This weekend was no less busy, with the great Peace Corps North vs. South kickball match up. The north looked sharp in specially made T-shirts with our logo: "Ou pa sa touché sa" ("You Can’t Touch This"), but the south had a commanding presence with everyone dressed in red (including a busload of kids from Soufriere). That proved to be the downfall of the north. Some of the children were split onto the north team to make the numbers more even, and there was confusion because they were still wearing the red shirts. So after a fierce competition during 5 innings, the Southern Stars came away winners, 12-8. PCV Matt Gibbs led in scoring with a home run and a grand slam. But talk of re-match is in the air…

Then came the trauma. Eric and I came back up north just planning to relax and eat leftovers. We stopped by the grocery store for a few things. I was going to put away the groceries quickly, and then either go for a swim or bathe, because I was pretty gross after a day of kickball and sea-bath. I was putting some bottles of soda in the fridge when one rolled off the shelf, rolled onto another shelf, then exploded on the tile floor. A shard of glass flew and hit my foot, slicing it open. I was freaked, bleeding all over, and standing in the middle of a bunch of broken glass. So Swashbuckling Eric came to my rescue. He carted me into the bathroom so I could bleed in the bathtub; he got me a pack of ice and a compress. I called Freda, the PC nurse, and then we packed back into the car to haul through all the traffic and foolishness back to town to the hospital. By the time we got there, the bleeding had stopped, but it left this really gross looking slash on my foot, about an inch long. When the nurse cleaned it with iodine, it started bleeding again and it hurt. We waited awhile for the doctor, because he had to come through a lot of the same traffic and foolishness as we did. When he came, he cleaned the wound again, and then injected it with a local anesthetic, which was the worst part. I felt right queasy and clammy after that, even holding a pillow over my face. I didn’t watch as he did the stitches. I felt queasy and clammy just thinking about it (and still do). When he was finished, he made me look, and it looked as good as new. I was expecting big hideous black stitches, but he used the invisible absorbing kind of thread. He also taped it up, and I have to keep it taped for 72 hours. I can’t wear shoes for 21 days, which is the worst part of the whole thing. I have been jogging a lot lately, and wearing no shoes will kind of prevent that. But I guess I can still go to the gym and ride a bike or walk on the treadmill in my slippers, and I can still do the arms workouts in Body Pump. I’m also supposed to avoid water, especially for the first week or so. After that, I hope it shapes up, because I will probably be traveling with Eric to the other islands during August.

So I hope you enjoyed my blow-by-blow of the foot injury. I really felt like a dork at the hospital (though this time I actually merited the wheelchair). It’s the second time ever that I’ve been to the ER (read about the first time), both within 2 months of each other, and both times in my bathing suit. At least this time I had the presence of mind to tell Eric to bring a change of clothes for me… my sweaty kickball clothes weren’t a pretty sight.