SICK

 I just got home from Nicaragua.

My month long stint was amazing. We worked with kids, teaching them English and learning Spanish in return, and we volunteered at Project Bonafide.

One day in particular was very memorable.

I spent one entire day entirely bed-ridden, sick with some sort of flu.

I woke early in the morning before the sun has risen. My stomach hurt something fierce and it seemed... swollen.

When I pressed on my gut, I suddenly realized.....I need to get to the bathroom ASAP.

Now, in Nicaragua at our homestay in the village of Balgue the word "bathroom" is very loosely used. What you may consider a bathroom would include porcelain facilities, silver faucets and fluffy towels.

This was very much not the case.

The "bathroom" was located outside of the house and consisted of a shabby outhouse containing a rough cube of cement with a hole in which to do your business. The baby goat accompaniment comes complimentary.

I grabbed my flashlight and hurried out to the bathroom, clutching my stomach. 

I tore open the door, sat down, and...well.... I'll spare you the gorey details. 

What I will tell you instead is that I felt like a Mr.Freeze (you know those sweet frozen treats) that someone grabbed around the middle and squeezed until both ends burst simultaneously.

And really, in this "bathroom" there were no such facilities to accommodate both ends of me erupting at the same time.

During my first visit I was able to clamp my hand over my mouth long enough, my cheeks expanded to their maximum with vomit which caused me to want to vomit even more.

I managed to walk back to my bedroom and pass out for an hour or so....

My second visit was not so successful. I attempted the first technique of clamping my mouth shut and instead vomited into my hands. I sat for a full minute with liquid seeping between my fingers until I decided to just drop it on the floor.

This time on my return trip the family had woken up and I had to tearfully explain in broken Spanish and gesturing that I had blown chunks all over their bathroom floor.

I slept for a few more hours, waking in between to swallow some water and gastrolyte...and a few nibbles from a granola bar. I woke with a start around 1:00 and rushed outside again, startling the very fat pig into running away.

During my third excursion I was DETERMINED not to dirty their freshly cleaned floor again.

I firmly welded my hand to my mouth, and managed to vomit forcefully (and painfully) through my nose. It splattered all over the wall, and in my gasp of horror I let loose the rest of my snack.

Now let me tell you for the record, it is absolutely NOT a good idea to vomit through your nose. If you've ever experienced the bad breath that accompanies being violently sick you would not want that smell any closer to your nose (nevermind THROUGH it).

By the end of the day I was able to force down some chicken noodle soup ( my host family made it especially because of my sickness) and I managed to survive to work again the next day.

Safely back in Canada!

AND of course it is FRIDAY. This week's Constant Reader is Chad, who sent me an encouraging message about the blog while I was away.

Thanks so much Chad, I love getting feedback!

Remember y'all that I pick a Constant Reader once a week based on people that comment, LIKE, FOLLOW, or message me about the blog.