From the Archives // Disconnected & Other Doses of Crazy

Still little to no connection to the outside world. We tried the local coffee shop in hopes that the open wifi connection would be enough to send a few emails, read the new ones, and maybe update a quick post or two. But after about 3 minutes of connection, it tanked and never came back.

To stay cheerful, we pulled out a deck of cards. After a game and a half, the waitress came over and asked us to move up to the next story if we wanted to play… Interesting, I thought; a three story ”Western” coffee shop where relaxing and games are not preferred. Granted, the restaurant had a certain clientele, so we decided to just pack up and head home.

I realize that lack of internet is nothing to complain about, but the lack of solutions is starting to make us a little crazy. It makes the communication barrier that much more difficult to bear. First world problems, I know.


Tuesday, we had to get medical exams at the local hospital. They require drawing blood so James was a goner right off the bat. The nurse who performed the task was great – very fast and very gentle. I went first while James waited patiently in the hallway. We took James into the sonogram room for his turn so he could lay down. He made a joke about being pregnant and settled into the waves of nerves. I talked to him about Liverpool and kept his mind off of the needles and vials of blood sitting nest to him. The blood had rushed out of his face, but he remained cheerful while relaying his favorite soccer team’s trades and upcoming games.

Everything was fine until a couple of minutes after the procedure wrapped up. He started to get weak and all the blood drained from his limbs and face. He sat through waves of feeling like he would pass out to feeling like throwing up. He hadn’t had anything to eat all morning, so our beautiful friend Abigail ran to grab him a Sprite.

The rest was fairly humiliating, including the heart rate portion where an old male doctor had you lay down on your back while he lifted up your shirt (and bra!) to take your heart rate… really uncomfortable for me while James was still dying down the hallway. I got over it quickly and guided James through his exams.

For me, the horror didn’t stop there. Having to pee in a cup over a disgusting squatty potty in the disgusting hospital tops my chart. Enter: peeing in a cup scenario without tissues on hand. The whole thing was messy and horrible. Trying aiming at a cup while squatting over a disgusting hole… only women will understand this one. I peed everywhere except the cup, go figure. The icing on the pee-cake was having to walk down a hallway, open cup in hand and deliver to a window down the long hall, after passing a crowd of onlooking Chinese. I compulsively wiped my hands with the remaining 15 wipes in my little pack and threw the packaging away – any reminder had to go.

On the taxi ride home and subsequent walk to and from lunch, I wouldn’t utter a word… except when I sternly turned to a honking car that was crossing our path as we made way through the crosswalk and kindly asked it to, “shut the *%#$ up.” Persistent honking happens every ten seconds on a normal walk, but in that moment, it was a blatant intrusion into my personal thoughts and sulking.

The view out of our back window… a tiny farm oasis in the middle of a large city.

The view out of our back window… a tiny farm oasis in the middle of a large city.


Things get better from here…