Puking in Pune

It isn't as glamorous as you might imagine.  I mean, I know all of you wish it were you, but only some of us can be so lucky.

It all started around 4am.  Or more accurately, I guess it started 8-12 hours before 4am, eating a lovely dinner at a fantastic restaurant here in Pune.  Some monster of a bacteria must have slipped in somewhere and took residence in my stomach.

I have never been more disgustingly ill in my life.  I will skip over the horrid details, but just imagine some terrible picture of the worst stomach virus you can think of, and that was me.

At one point in the afternoon I woke up from having apparently passed out and sat up in my bed, sort of looking around trying to figure out what was happening.  I looked to my left, saw some curtains and palm trees out my window.  "Am I in INDIA?!?!"  Yes, I was.  I looked to my right, searching for other answers.  Nothing over there.  Then my stomach spoke up, and turns out he was not happy about the whole sitting-up thing, so I sort of moaned and crumbled over to my right side.

This is the position my roommate Lucy  found me in later in the evening.  "Do you want a pillow?" she asked me, confused as to why I was lying in such an awkward manner.  "Oh yeah, there's one over there," I said flinging my left arm in the general direction that I thought the pillow was.  I sort of started pathetically crying at that point.  "I've never been so dehydrated in my life," I whined.  "All I want to do is drink a gallon of water, but I can't."  Sniffle sniffle.  Tears, tears.  She comforted me and assured me that this happens to every foreigner at some point.  She related story after story of hospital stays caused by malicious viruses and other general medical misfortune encountered by her and others since her time in India.  I listenened eagerly, beginning to feel as though this were some sort of induction into my new life here, and if I could only get through it, I would... I would... be a part of the club or something. Which is better than being alone and sick and nothing you can do about it, I suppose.

A little note on dehydration, while I am on the topic: it is a serious problem.  If you ever get severely dehydrated, get to the doctor.  Don't fool around.  I mean it. On that note, I'd like to take a minute to apologize to my kidneys for this whole incident: Kidneys, I am so so sorry.  I never realized how vital you truly were.  Thank you for all you do, and I'm sorry you were forced to try to do your job with not one ounce of water.  I will do everything in my power to ensure this never happens to you again.  Thank you again for your superb work, and I hope we can continue our longstanding relationship.  I don't want to lose you; please forgive me.

***SOAP BOX ALERT***
Also, in my delirium I started thinking about the whole health care debate in America (strange, I know, but what can I say), and I suddenly had a new perspective (shocking).  I thought, Could we all just stop, take a minute, and thank God for the health care that we do have in America?  I am so grateful for good food and clean water, and for access to some of the most amazing hospitals and doctors in the world.  I am so thankful for medicine like antibiotics and... electrolyte compounds.  I know the debate is long and premiums are high, but I don't think it would hurt to put all politics aside for a moment and all collectively say, "Thank you." (Now would be an okay time to stop reading this and do that, if you don't mind and you have a few seconds to spare.)

So thank you (God).
And thank you (reader).

Wishing you health.

Side by Side

I wasn't ready.  In fact, I had a near panic attack on the way to the airport (or maybe that was the malaria medicine).  I'm going to make a shocking analogy now, so prepare yourself.

I felt much like I imagine Bethenny Frankel-Hoppy (if you don't get the reference, it doesn't matter) must have felt when her water broke a month early.  She had no "birth plan," the nursery wasn't ready, and she had learned how to put a baby in a car seat just the day before.  Babies don't come when YOU are ready.

But when exactly did I get pregnant? (Still in the analogy here, take a breath.)  I suppose it was back in March when I took a job working for a non-profit in India.  But no amount of practical preparation could have made me ready for this.  Or at least that is what I think my body was trying to tell me as I struggled to catch a breath as my poor father tried to comfort and distract me on our way to IAH.

On my first leg to Detroit I sat next to a quiet, bookish girl who said hardly a word to me, yet her presence began to give me enormous peace.  I thought, "I love this stranger.  She understands the unspoken, yet incredibly important, sitting-next-to-someone-in-an-airplane guidelines."  She just sat there, quietly reading her book, minding her own business, only briefly flashing me a friendly "this is awkward to be sitting so close to you when I don't even know your first name" smile.  I understood completely.  She only piped up to tell me kindly, yet firmly, that I was indeed stepping (quite forcefully) on her foot.  "Oh my goodness!  I'm so sorry!" I said again and again.  This was a breach of contract: you are not supposed to physically harm fellow passengers due to your idiocy.  She laughed nervously and dove back into her book. 

But there we sat, and there we flew, side by side, and I suddenly felt less alone.  I remembered that on the other side of my travels, there would in fact still be... people.  I am not alone here, or ever.  A nervous smile, a stepping on the foot, these are the actions that can tie us all together when there seems to be nothing else.