The Crash

I have to drive to Bonmon today because Manman’s uncle died and she has to attend the funeral. Mackenzy came over last night and told me not to go today. I ignored him. I wake up late and literally have to head right out the door, but I can’t find my key. Where did I put my key?! We search everywhere and upon finally finding it the three of us head out. We are on nice paved roads for a while. Up a hill and around a corner. As we round the corner there is a big oil spill and my back tire slides out and we are sliding on the pavement. Claemie! I jump up and look for Claemie. She is behind me, up and fine. Manman is fine. They don’t have a scratch on them. How is that possible? I look over each of them to make sure they are actually fine. Not a single scratch. I feel shaky and dizzy. I’m surrounded by people. Everyone is worried and coming over to check on me. I feel fine but I look down and blood is running down my arm and leg. I am wearing shorts because I woke up late. Too late to look for my jeans. Knowing Claemie and Manman are ok makes me feel fine so we start driving. I’ve been driving for maybe ten minutes and I start to see stars. An hour and a half left of driving to Bonbon and then I’ll have to return. Can I do it? I start driving really slowly as my eyes are giving out on me. I need to pull over. I’m going to make our Manman late for this funeral. Manman asks me why I’m driving so slowly and I tell her it’s because I can barely see. I pull over when I start to black out. I call Zee and Judelin and they are on their way. Judelin is going to take Manman to the funeral and Zee is going to take me home. Judelin arrives first and gets worried when he sees me so he decides to take me home. We are driving and meet Zee on the road. I have Claeme go with Zee and Judelin drives me all the way up to the house. I know I have to clean these wounds. They are full of gravel and oil and dust. What am I going to do if these get infected? Zee comes and tries to help me clean them. I dance around after we clean a few of them and it seems to help with the pain. I’d like to swear and punch someone but everyone has been so helpful. I’m officially useless now. I have to climb down the hill and bandage Dada. I can’t let her wounds get infected. The man down the hill still needs his wounds cleaned as well. I can’t bathe the mountain kids. My mind is blurry and a mess. What am I doing? I have so much to do! I’m laying on my bed with a towel underneath my wounds which are still bleeding.

I am absolutely useless. Thank you so much to Jude and Zee for taking care of me and taking Manman to Bonmon. “Sleeping” is a nightmare. I don’t sleep at all. At one point in the night my towel moved and now my blankets and sheets are covered in puss and blood. My leg is swollen and hot. I can’t wait for morning. But why? What is going to change when the sun rises? Nothing. I’ll still be laying here. Useless. The roosters are crowing and my visitors start coming in bright and early. I get all sorts of strange oils rubbed on my skin and wounds and people come in and touch and pray over me an hug me. Boiled papaya leaves cover my leg. I get trauma tea. My room is full of people from morning until night. It’s exhausting. The church services are loud. I hate laying here. My leg feels worse today than it did yesterday. The hours drag on. My leg is covered in puss and its yellow and green. I am miserable. Night comes and my last visitor leaves at 10:30. Another sleepless night. At 2 in the morning I get out of bed because I am tired of feeling liquid from my wounds running down my leg and I want to bandage my wounds.

When morning comes on this third day I am beyond miserable. I want to bawl my eyes out. What am I doing here just wasting my time? People need me! What will all my patients do if I’m not there to take care of them? My wounds look terrible this morning. My knee is bright white and bloody. What is that white stuff on there?

Scrubbing my knee is painful. I can barely walk today. My knee is now double the size of my other. I am supposed to pick mom up at the airport tomorrow. What am I going to do? How am I going to get there? I already bought my bus ticket. By nighttime I can barely move my leg and have to tell Papa that I can’t go. He looks and me with a look saying “Duh. Of course you can’t go.” When I wake up this morning I look down at my knee. It has a purple outer ring followed by a red ring and it is so hot. The soft scabs are white and green. If I stay here with all these people touching me and my leg all the time I will never get clean and my leg will get more infected. I have to get to Port. Poppyseed messages me and says theres a flight out that I can get on from Jeremie to Port for free today at 3:00. Miracle! Yes. I’ll do it. Everyone thinks I’m an idiot for leaving. I have to pick mom up and I have to take a clean shower. I have to get clean. Hiking down this mountain is painful. Step by step. Zee is waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. Please don’t fall. Please don’t fall. The motorcycle ride is even more painful. It takes us 45 minutes and every bump is awful. The sun dries and cracks the puss on my leg. Into the little puddle jumper plane I go. My knee is somewhat bent inside and this 45 minute plane ride feels like the longest of my whole life. To the airport I go to meet behbehghull (moms nickname) and I sit inside until she comes out. It is so awesome to see her. We talk and laugh and go to the hotel. The hotel is expensive and so we will leave either tomorrow or the day after. I take a hot bath and soak all my wounds and clean them. It feels amazing. I actually feel clean. Sidenote: During the riots about Guy Phillipe a soldier, originally from Haiti and stationed overseas for the American military, was reading the news and read about a crazy white girl who joined the riots in Haiti. He wrote me thanking me for what I did and we talked about our dreams and goals for Haiti. Well, he emailed the hotel mom and I were staying at and paid for the entire rest of the week so that I would be forced to recover. So, thank you Solda for that. Thank you for being such a blessing. I appreciate it, so so much. Zee checks on Dada and says she is doing fine. Her leg looks good. I needed to crash my bike. I needed to be cooped up for days. I needed to be wounded. I needed all these things to happen to realize that with or without me, God will continue to take care of his people. I had begun to think I was too important and what would people do if I wasn’t there to take care of them. I am not invincible. I am not a hero. I am not unstoppable. I was at one of the lowest lows I’ve ever felt. I was absolutely useless. Humbling. This accident has humbled me and made me remember who is actually in control. I’m just a tool to be used whenever and wherever possible. So, thank you God for slowing me down and thank you Solda for paying for our week. Mom and I are bored out of our minds at this hotel but we are still having a blast laughing and watching tv shows and eating peanut m&ms. By the way… thank you so much Danielle Gilbert for the reeses and bags of m&ms. Love you! Sorry I haven’t been blogging Dana, I’ve been super busy!