I returned from Nerita Japan (and Thailand) on Monday the first feeling rested, excited, and motivated! (The fact that we rode first class the whole way back defiantly helped) I was a little heart broken about leaving, 12 days is completely insufficient, but I was excited to take all my new experiences and insights and leanings and apply them here at home.

I had missed work (how fortunate I am to have a job I actually miss) and was glad to go back and see my clients and friends and possibly teach them a little of the what I had leaned of Muay Thai.

One of my very best friends, Marlon, who lives near the border in Tijuana Mexico, was scheduled for surgery that Saturday in TJ. I was planning to go down for emotional support and to visit him that Saturday.

By Wed, I started to feel a little run down. I thought that it was funny that the jet lag was catching up to me so late. Thursday I noticed I was starting to get a staph infection on my hip. It was in the beginning stages. I had been having diarrhea since the day that I had made the huge mistake of drinking that 1oz of tap water in Bangplee Thailand, but I didn’t think much of it. I’ve gotten travelers diarrhea nearly every single time I’ve gone to a third world country. It is completely expected. A small price to pay for such an experience…… or so I thought. The weird thing is that rather then feeling better after I returned, I was feeling worse. I was more fatigued and my stomach cramps were slightly worse…. they weren’t really bad though. I thought it was perfect timing and a fortunate coincidence that I was going to Tijuana Saturday anyway. Marlon works at a medical clinic that treats mostly Americans. Since I own my own business, a few years back I went to that for about 18 months without medical insurance and I had gone down to Marlon’s medical center for all my treatments and medications. I could have them take a look at me while I was there.

Look, going to Mexico for medical treatment is risky, but in my case, I’m an experienced world wide traveller, my best friend works at the clinic, through my friendship with Marlon I had gotten to know the Dr’s personally, and I had been treated by them before and I knew they did an excellent job. In the past I’d been so impressed by the quality of care I got in TJ and how affordable it was that I thought I should go there for all my treatments in the future. I fly nearly for free anyway (since my Dad works for United Airlines).

My flight left at 6am Saturday morning. Funny I didn’t really start to feel sick until I boarded the plane…. then the cramps started to get painful and the trips to the bathroom more frequent. When I arrived in San Diego and walked off the plane I literally just tossed my backpack on the floor of a crowded waiting area in the terminal, used it as a pillow, and went to sleep. I was drained.

Two hours later I took a cab to a trolley that took me to the border. The contrast between crossing the border from the US into Mex and crossing from Mex into the US is laughable. To go into Mex you just walk in….. No one checks anything. There is a little bridge and people carrying bags and stuff, and there are some armed guards there but I’ve never had one of them stop me. There in a red stop light and if it happens to flash while your walking under it then I think you are subject to a random search, but I’ve never seen it go off. (Keep in mind that I’ve been to Mexico at least 40 times) and you just walk in. I always makes me think how easy it must be for fugitives in the US to run and hide in Mexico. On the way back you have to wait in this ridiculously long line, sometimes for 3-5 hours (if your in a car, 1-3 if your on foot) while immigration checks every one’s papers and all the luggage goes through x-ray and the drug dogs sniff the crowd for drugs.

Back to my story. So since Marlon was in surgery that day he sent one of the Drs to pick me up from the border. The Dr drove me straight from the border to a clinic for testing. The staph infection was not a big deal, easily treatable with antibiotics. I still thought the whole thing wasn’t a big deal. I told him it wasn’t that bad and that I’m sure it’s just travellers diarrhea but that I should get it checked since it’s getting worse. The clinic did a series of tests. I thought it was weird that they were doing so many tests. First they wanted to test the stool then then they wanted to see my insides under fluoroscope.

The Dr came to me and said he had some bad news. I had a very serious parasitic infection and my intestines were swollen and there was a puss filled abscess in my intestines. (Gross, I know…. but like I wrote before I made the decision to censor this blog as little as possible. Just keeping it real.) I was shocked! ‘How bad is it?’ I asked. He said that although it is not urgent right now, they would need to begin treating me with antibiotics and I would need to have surgery on Monday to drain the abscess. He said that if we don’t start treatment right away it could become life threatening.

I thought ‘What! Monday! I’m only supposed to be here in TJ for one day! I only brought one pair of underwear! I’m supposed to train 8 clients on Monday! I’ve barely worked for month already….. My money is running low. How am I going to afford this? My whole life, my identity, and my livelihood are based around me being athletic….. How long is this going to take me out?’

People keep asking me how I got sick, but answering that is like finding a needle in a haystack. I went to swamps and jungles, played with all kinds of exotic animals, and had some open wounds from fight camp. But I probably got it from the food or water. When is any one’s guess, but it probably happened at the end of the trip (I don’t know how long the incubation period is on these things, but I didn’t really get sick til after I returned).

So the Dr drove me to a different hospital where I sat in the hotel waiting room and cried….. inconsolably; maybe even hysterically at some points. Marlon was going through his own surgery so he wasn’t available to support me. My phone wasn’t working bc I was too far from the border. I thought “there’s some weird little animal eating my insides and destroying my health and I’m filled with puss and I only have one pair of underwear and a pair of heels and I’m in a foreign country and if I tell my family they’ll freak out and I’m nearly broke and all I have is this little backpack (which I clung to like a security blanket) and the Dr said that left untreated this could become life threatening. I am booked up with clients all week. My phone doesn’t even work bc I’m too far from the border. My whole life and income is based around me being a very athletic person. Some of the nurses tried to comfort me but I just sat there, arms folded, crying.

After crying inconsolably for a few hours. Then, after some of the shock wore off, I had my first rational thought. ‘Ok, I’m in this horrible situation. I can’t change it. I need to regain control of myself and make the most out of this obstacle. Of course it sucks, but suffering one moment longer or more then I need to is stupid. I’m not going to let this break me.’
I regained some of my composure. ‘I have to be smart’. I planned to go to another clinic to get a second opinion (they told me the same thing), figured out a payment plan, bout some comfy clothes, and had a friend contact all my clients. Once I felt a little better I asked myself, ‘How can I use this experience to actually benefit me? Well, for one, this is a true emotional and physical challenge. If I can get through this without getting depressed and recover as quickly as possibly, then I’ll know I can handle anything that comes my way. I started t think that maybe someday I would look back on this experience and actually be GLAD it happened bc it improved my mental toughness and my confidence in my ability to overcome anything that life throws my way.

I had the surgery two days later. I was in the hospital for three days with a drainage tube and an I.V. and 9 stitches. The day after the surgery I was in excruciating pain! It hurt to even breath or move.

Marlon was there by my side. He was in pain and stressed out from his own surgery… We were both stressed out and in a lot of pain so we fought like cats and dogs for the next couple days. Of course I wasn’t perfect, there were times when I got caught up in self pity or anger, but overall I did a great job constantly redirecting my attention to focus on making the best of a bad situation.

Now it has been 3 weeks and 3 days since the surgery. I am all recovered. Looking back I am SOOOO proud of myself for having overcome such a difficult obstacle. I used my time off to work on my spiritual side and to meditate. I know that if I can recover from that and find a positive way of looking at it, I can do anything.

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