The End of India...Finally

On the third morning of our trip I woke up with a fever and an extreme case of dehydration. I could barely move. It was decided that it was best to take me to a small village called Kaza which was about a 3 hour drive away. There was a hospital there. Cheryl Barton went with me since Jason had to drive the motorcycle. Let me tell you how amazing and timely it was that I got sick where I did...we were out in the middle of nothing. Had I been sick one or two days later finding a place to take me would have been extremely difficult. If I had to get sick, the timing and location were perfect. :)

Along the drive I was in and out of sleep or consciousness...not sure which. However, I did wake up to the sound of a VERY loud boom....the sound of an explosion. I was almost positive we were being shot at but, as I learned later, we had barely cleared dynamite being detonated. As we were driving a man was running towards our vehicle screaming and waving his arms to stop. Our driver decided it was best not to because he was afraid the man was a robber and he didn't want to take a risk with two white women in the car. When the dynamite went off our driver was VERY angry....he said the man should have had a red flag or some kind of marker. Out there worker men don't wear brightly colored vests with reflective tape....just pants and sometimes a shirt.

When we arrived at the hospital I saw the doctor and he decided to admit me right away. He had diagnosed me with extreme dehydration, altitude sickness, and an infection that he was unsure of but would do blood tests for. I am not quite sure how to describe the hospital to you. The walls were made of bare cinder block. There was no glass on some of the windows. The electricity was out and in order for it to come on the doctor had to requisition it if/when he had to do procedures that required the use of machines. And the most disgusting part....no toilets....well, at least not ones with running water due to some renovation of the plumbing that had apparently taken much longer than originally projected. The only clean toilet was outside about 100 meters away from the hospital behind a locked door and you had to ask the nurse for a key....that is if you could find the nurse. Inside there were toilets but NOT at all clean and wouldn't you know it....a case of diarhea decides to hit me. The only place to go was in a toilet where every square inch of the concrete floor was covered in human feces....feces piled in the corner like a pyramid...smeared into the concrete....it was every where. It was awful....I still slightly gag when I think about it. It has taken months for me to get to this point where I can talk about it without gagging. I didn't quite make it to the toilet and as a result had to change clothes in that bathroom.....now that was a trick! Feverish, shaky, clammy, light-headed, nasueas, and incredibly thirsty whilst trying to put on clean clothes with out dragging my pants leg through poop. believe it or not, i made it out of there without poop on the pants!! In the pants, however, not quite as fortunate. :)

While this hospital was lacking in many of the modern day technologies, the staff and the doctor were amazing. I had to receive an IV drip for my dehydration and this cute little plump nurse with missing teeth, leathered skin, gray hair tied back in a bun, and bright eyes was very skilled at getting that IV in my arm. She also had to draw blood and that was one of the most painless blood draws I have ever had. Her English was limited but we got along just fine with smiles and gestures. She may have been in a poor part of the world but she knew what she was doing when it came to her job.

Also, I had a wonderful roommate in my little hospital room. Gatuk was a 22 year old woman with kidney stones. She was in pain but that didn't stop her from changing out her own IV bag when it came time. I was impressed....I had no idea how to change my IV bag but Gatuk worked it with great skill and ease. I thought maybe she was a nurse also but nope, she was a teacher. She was from Nepal and had a two-year old son....she told me repeadetly how much she missed her baby and how badly she wanted to hold him again. She was worried about me because she had overheard that I was pregnant. She didn't say much to me about it but would often just stare at me with a worried look on her face.

It took me four days to recover. I slept a lot and often worried and prayed for the safety of the little one in my tummy. But, over and over again, I could feel the Lord saying to me that the baby was safe and to not fear.

When we headed out I still wasn't 100% better so I decided to ride laying down in the SUV for much of the first day back on the road. Our very last day of the trip I rode with Jason the whole way. It was quite fun and the roads were a little smoother. We got to camp out under beautiful skies the next few days.

We returned to Manali (where we started) and I was elated to be able to shower. I didn't shower for 5 days and I STUNK to high heaven!! I was happy to be back in Manali because, while I had a wonderful time, I was ready to go back to Japan. India had kicked me in my hind parts! We spent one full day in Manali before our return to New Delhi. The day before we left we had another scare with the pregnancy. I was spotting. We decided to take me to a mission hospital in Manali. My mind was racing all over the place. I kept praying and clinging to the Lord for His peace. "Lord, not my will but your's be done" Still over and over again I kept hearing Him say the baby was safe and not to fear. I am so thankful the Lord is so faithful to speak to us and give us His peace. He is so loving to His children. The trip to the hospital was filled with tears, I got scolded by a 22 year old doctor for riding motorcycles on the road we went down (it was extremely rough in parts). I put my hands in my face and said "i know, I know...I should've known better!" She immediately grabbed me (she was all of 5 foot) and hugged me and said everything would be ok just no more motorcycles. (i thought to myself after the doctor's appointment...duh, pregnant women aren't even allowed on roller coasters! what the heck was I thinking getting on a motorcycle!!!??) The exam and the sonogram showed that the baby was still tucked away safely inside. I was filled with relief and many tears were shed by our group at the good news.

Our trip in India was the trip of a life time. I am so thankful we went and got to see and do all that we got to see and do. Sadly, I still can't eat curry. :( I hope one day I will be able to again.