Today is Thanksgiving. I was told this on the phone by my mom a couple hours earlier. Her calls have become less frequent and her voice a little less frantic and anxious. I don’t blame her at all. Today is my fourth day being shut off from the world and to be honest something I have come to realize is that it is the world that poses the stronger threat to me than my illness posing a danger to it. Sweet Hermana Keta brought me a plate of food, being careful not to cross the threshold she called out my name softly. I was on the verge of my endless trancelike sleep when suddenly the twisted pronunciation of my name Brewk broke into my blurred thoughts and interrupted my pending dreams. I shifted over on my side and my eyes traced the Spanish to the door and my hazy vision fixated on the plate covered by a napkin. In the next moment I was up on my feet headed ever cautiously to the door with my hands already out in great expectation of the gift I was about to receive. But something ever more precious than the gift of food that I just been handed was the gift of her counsel that she left me mentally chewing on as she walked away. She told me that sometimes God stops us and puts us into situations where we have no other choice but to be still and in that stillness He pulls us closer to Himself. She lovingly encouraged me and told me that they were praying for me in my forced stillness and quietness.
So what happened to me? Let’s start on Sunday. Everything seemed like a normal Sunday. I went to my beloved church, la Cumbre, and the service lasted almost two hours. Nothing peculiar there… Then we ate tacos and snacks and fellowshipped outside for the next 40 minutes… Once again, normal Sunday…. Then we made our way back to the school, looking forward to the 2:30 lunch because one of the professor’s wives makes lunch every Sunday so you knew you were going to get something good. And they served Mole (special chocolate sauce that you pour over your meat) which at one time I detested but now at the mere mention of this Mexican dish my mouth waters. So the perfect Mayberry Sunday continued as the students and I sat down, sang a song praise, prayed over meal, and dug in our food. However clouds formed and thunder rolled on the perfect Mayberry Sunday as we were washing the dishes from our meal. Pain started abruptly in the temples of my head leaving me dizzy and complaining of a major headache. Luis bought me a coke with the hopes that all I needed was a shot of that good ole caffeine. And with a cold coke in hand, I had to excuse myself to go lie down. I climbed up on the top bunk and went to sleep despite the light of the sun shining through my window and I awoke to pure darkness for I had slept until the beginning of night. My head still hurt so I crossed out the need for caffeine and tried some Advil and went to scoundrel up some food. Ten minutes later, I found myself in my pastor’s house, seated at their table, eating Oreos, and watching their fourteen year old son make me a sandwich. And I don’t have to go into details in how that conspired but it was a wonderful sandwich and I have you know (especially those readers who took Latin American culture with me in college) that not all Mexican males are macho and this is a perfect example. So anyways with a belly full, I made a few calls home and then went back to my room and little did I know that approaching was a night which would be in the top five worst of my life. My headache had gotten steady worse so I was looking forward to sleeping it off and I first went to sleep pretty easily that night. But I have no idea what time it was but I woke up sweating and trembling at the same time. My body was so hot, I felt like a fire was consuming me. I threw off my blankets in a fury and clung to my pillow praying for relief. I felt so bad and I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. My head was burning. Oh, was my head ever burning! Only God knows how long I was awake that night but it seemed like the dawn would never come and sleep could not find me.
However, when dawn did come sleep found me but only for a little while. I woke up at nine with that residing pain that inhabited itself so comfortably in my head now but a new sharp ache in my chest accompanied it leaving me bewildered and wounded. I got up and did some things that morning only to come back to my room defeated from this enemy within body. Jackie found me curled up, hands cradling my head, in my bed at 12:00 and convinced me that it was serious and it was past time to go talk to Dan about what I was feeling. We walked to his office together and I went in and told him everything that was going on and much to my dismay he said that they were going to take me to the doctor this instant. And later I would thank God like I have done on many other occasions for Dan’s discernment especially regarding this decision. So Hermana Mary took me to see the spicy Doctora Rocio. Now I love Doctora Rocio. She always helps when the American teams are here; we had worked side by side just this past weekend with the eye doctors. She is witty, intelligent, and simply put a beautiful person. We went to her office and sat patiently in the waiting room. Well Hermana Mary waited patiently; I waited in ever increasing pain. I tried to distract myself by watching the TV screen, which was smaller than a cereal box, but it was just the news covering the flu epidemic. I wondered if nothing else had happened overnight in the country of Mexico as time ticked and they still went on about this crazy influenza. It’s humorous to me now that the thought never occurred to me at this point that I could be the very next statistical number to the outbreak of the flu in Veracruz. Not once did this cross my mind. Not once… Yes, I know the flu got passed around sorority row during Rush and many LSU students came down with it but nobody here has gotten it. The only people I knew who had were in the States. So it never crossed my mind but those were the first words that came out of Dr. Rocio’s mouth after she listened to my symptoms. “¡Brewk, tienes la influenza!” Then she had to convince me that she was not kidding. We took a chest x-ray and it was incredible how much mucus had already infiltrated my lungs in less than 24 hours. Dr. Rocio then sat me down and explained the seriousness of my problem. She told me that this problem in my lungs is the exact complication from the flu that people die from and she also explained to me that with the progression of mucus in my lungs and without having treatment after seventy-two hours only God knows if I would have still been breathing. From that moment we treated my illness vigorously with a shot, antibiotics, tamiflu, and some pain meds to help with my fever. And I have been secluded to my room ever since. But it is not so bad. I have had plenty of time to think, pray, watch movies, work on a scrapbook, and listen to my music and podcasts. And now I feel better and refreshed. God is taking care of me here in Mexico. God is ever faithful and I thank Him for stopping me and keeping me to Himself for awhile.
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