Hey guys..it's been awhile. The link above is the video of my pin getting removed. What pin? you say...What's the story? Well if you got a minute, sit down, pour a cup of tea and get ready to be amazed. Special thanks to Gary and Shannon for coming with us, and Gary taking the video.
If you have kept up with our blog, you know that we make monthly trips to Ometepe to preach. It has been very fruitful territory and everybody enjoys it, especially visitors, it's like an adventure. Many people rent motor bikes to get around since there is virtually no public transportation, well none good enough to depend on for the ministry.
On June 5th it was a normal day in the ministry and I was splitting from the group to visit a return on the opposite side of the island. Jessica wasn't with me, she wasn't feeling well, which would've changed the whole situation. You see, you drive differently with a passenger on back; a little more cautious maybe and you definitely take turns softer.
Half way through the trip the turns get tighter, some more than 90 degrees. I was making a tight turn and as I opened up at the end of the turn on the other side, an old man was in the road riding his bicycle less than 1kph. I tried turning tighter but he was too into the center of the road and the night before it had rained, so my bike started to slip from the volcanic sand on the pavement. All I could do was break and yell MUEVETE! MUEVETE! Being an old man...he didn't hear me until it was too late. I ran right into him. I was not driving very fast, I'm not an idiot, so I didn't hit him very hard. He tipped over off his bike, but as physics goes...an object in motion stays in motion...I kept going over the handle bars and onto the road, all my weight landed onto my left shoulder. I had the wind knocked out of me and I instantly knew I broke something.
The locals came rushing to my aid and moved me and my bike to the side of the road. The old man was fine, of course...I mean...thanks to Jehovah, but I needed medical attention immediately. There are no ambulances and no hospitals on the island, so I had to go to the local clinic. The locals flagged a farm truck passing by and I hopped in so he could drop me off at the clinic in the next town. The locals took care of my bike by parking it in their yard until our friend, Luke, could pick it up. Writhing in pain, the ride seemed like it went on forever. We reached the clinic and the man helped me to the E.R., which is one doctor and one nurse in a room with a desk and a bed. The doctor took one look at me and said, "Oh, your shoulder is just dislocated, I can put it back in.". Wait a minute, no Xray?! was my immediate thought (fortunately my medical background ended up being useful). I said, "Doctor, I think it's broken, it hurts too much to just be dislocated and it looks like half my clavicle is gone.". The doctor responded, "Well if you want an Xray you will have to be transferred to the mainland.". Seeing that the boat was a 45 minute ride away and the boat ride alone is an hour and fifteen minutes I said, "I don't mean to question your abilities, but I'd rather be sure. Could you give me something for pain?". The doctor complied and started the paperwork.
The nurse gave me an I.V. and some pain medication, it just as well could've been water. I had to wait until closing time so I could take the government truck to the port (remember, no ambulances). I had the accident at 12:30 p.m., when we left the clinic they only gave me one injection, which was again...water. They put me in the back seat of the truck which was piled with 15 clinic staff. We made random stops along the way dropping people off. We finally get to the port at 4 p.m. but, we were too late for the ferry, so we had to wait an hour for the next one. I finally decided to call Jessica, because she'd be expecting me home soon. I hadn't called her yet, I didn't want her to worry until I had more of a story to tell her.
We finally got to the mainland and the clinic on the island didn't call ahead for the "ambulance" to pick me up. Good thing one of the nurses, a 19 y.o. girl, came with me for the transfer and she called the hospital. Did you forget? I've been writhing in pain since 12:30, it's now 6:30 and we finally arrive to the E.R. of the city of Rivas. It all worked out pretty smoothly from there, within 15 min. I got a Xray. Sure enough, my clavicle was broken in 2 places and I needed to be admitted for surgery.
I finally got to my room at 8:30. The nurse had to kick a... what looked like a homeless, shoe-less man off my bed. All I did was sit there, I was sharing a room with 6 other men, their wives and 2 shoe-less homeless men laying on the floor in the corner. One of the homeless men asked me if I needed help to take my shoes off, I thankfully declined.
Jessica finally arrived with the elder of our congregation, she helped me get ready for bed and left to prepare some things for the following day. You see, in a Nicaraguan Free Medical facility, they provide you with only a sheet. That's right, Jessica had to bring me clean sheets, a pillow, toilet paper, tooth brush, soap, shampoo and did I mention no A/C, she also had to bring me a small fan. Needless to say I didn't sleep well that night.
This ended up being the hardest two weeks of my life. Since this is social medicine, no one has to pay, but that means you have to wait and wait, and wait. I had to wait in line until the other six guys in the room had their surgery. Thanks to Jehovah, a couple of them could care less about their blood pressure or blood sugar being out of control, so they were sent home. The only medication they provided was injectable pain meds, same as water, and 400mg Ibuprofen. I had never been in so much constant pain in my life, I'm glad I have a high tolerance. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, the nurses do nothing but eat and sleep at their stations, so Jessica had to stay with me all day to help me to the restroom and such. Apparently, nurses in Nicaragua are glorified secretaries, no actual patient care takes place.
The doctors are not much better, although they have the right credentials and go to good schools, they are use to dealing with uneducated people for patients. That means they don't even acknowledge your presence, they don't talk to you about the health plan, they don't even look in your direction. They come into the room with the nurses and med students, pull out a chart, say "This guy is waiting for surgery, give him pain meds IF he needs them." then walks out the room.
We became ninjas in being able to shoo away the hundreds of thousands of flies that came from a couple of rooms down, where they put all the patients with open wounds. I do mean open wounds, because most had no bandages to speak of. There was also the clowder of feral cats that roamed the halls and flea infested dogs looking for scraps. At night the roaches came out by the millions, I have never seen so many roaches in my life, they liked to hide behind the signs taped on the walls. I didn't dare go into the bathroom at night, they came out of the walls and covered the sink.
I got my surgery on June 15th, the doctor told me that they would normally use a plate for my kind of fracture, but that those are expensive and the hospital doesn't keep them in stock. Instead they used what they called a "clavo", which translated means "nail". After getting it removed today it is simply an 18g steel wire that was cut from a reel. I am so grateful for Jessica being so strong through all this and the congregation for stepping up and feeding us. After leaving the hospital, a sister from the Spanish had done some preaching in the hospital. She said the the morgue is in the same room as the kitchen, I'm sooooo glad everyone refused to let me live off of the food there. Not that I complained, you can only eat so much Gallo Pinto.
I'm sick and tired of being stuck at home the last 3 months, but the congregation took care of us. It touched our heart when Gary and Shannon, a couple that have been studying with the elder of our cong., offered to come with us and offered to take Jessica's place in the room while they removed the "clavo". Having them there really helped ease the process, they are proof of the need in the English field in foreign countries.
Below are some pictures of the last 3 months, just progressive snap shots of my recovery.
The Day That Will Live In Infamy
My Room
Feral Cats
The Hospital
They love their elementary style posters.
Cafeteria
Home, on my way to daily dressing changes.
Notice the metal pin sticking out.
Happiest Day of My Life
