The last few days....

I can breathe- finally.

The last couple days have been scary/long/exhausting/informative and pretty much everything in between. I won’t go into long details, it will just bore you and quite honestly I don’t want to re-live it all. But on Wednesday, at PPST (Post Pre Service Training) in Ouarazate I woke up to my back/side hurting. By lunch it really hurt and between walking from lunch to the room where we were staying I couldn’t breathe because I had a stabbing pain in my chest and was gasping for air. After some fellow PCVs called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) I was driven to a surgical center for a quick check up to ensure whatever it was wasn’t life threatening. After a few hours of crying and pain they decided it wasn’t it something that would kill me so it was decided I would be driven to Marrakesh that night. We left for Kesh at about 4pm for the terrible, terrible tishka. I mean, it sucks normally, but add in pain in my chest and lack of breathing and well- it sucked. We got to kesh at about 10 and I was met by a Peace Corps Doctor who then told me we would be going to Rabat the next day. Its now Sunday and I’m still in Rabat. They had me connected to a heart monitor yesterday and I’ll get the readings from that and talk to the doctors tomorrow about the next step….

I feel SOOO much better now but this has defiantly made me think a little differently about my service. I mean, I always knew I was out in the middle of no where but this really just confirmed that. This happened to me in Ouarzazate, with Peace Corps staff and PC cars around, it really was the best possible situation. And all I could think when it happened was how far away I was from help if I REALLY needed it. But I guess that’s part of the gig right?

This whole situation made me think too- how LUCKY I am to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. Yes, I live in the bl3id (rural areas) like everyone else, but I’m with the Peace Corps. If something happens in morocco I’ll be drive by the gendarms or army to a safe area and flown out. If I get sick I see the best doctors in the big cities and have tests til someone figures out whats wrong with me. What if something like this happened to someone in my village? What would they do? Go to my sbitar to see my one overworked nurse? Would they have the money to transport themselves the 2-3 hours into Ouarzazate and then have the money to even see the doctor? Realistically, probably not.

I’m feeling better day by day, shaken up, but doing great. Tomorrow I learn the results of the heart monitor they had on me yesterday and then we make a game plan of what to do from there. Which will it be--- back to site or stay in Rabat some more? Only time will tell….