A few days ago I went to bed feeling like hell. Apparently, when I get a fever I start acting strange and shivering speaking gibberishy Spanglish in my sleep. After a day of being kind of unconscious Kelly convinced me to go to the hospital to have a… well a poop sample analyzed.
Aside from having cramps, a head ache, fever and a mean case of the boom booms I was feeling fantastic! To make matters even better the microbus that we got on to go back home was jammed packed with people. Now for the average Guatemalan standing in a micro is no problem, but for giant gringos such as myself you have to be an armature contortion artist to fit. So there I was smushed between the huddle masses with my head crammed up against a handrail holding on to the sides of the seats trying not to fall over onto the other passengers.
I would like to say that I had my guard up and that security was the first thing on my mind, but it wasn’t. My true thoughts were probably closer to “Oh my god please stomach… Please cooperate!... Who smells like tamales… Please god let me find a restroom soon!!” So in all the hustle and bustle I barely noticed the group of guys get on the bus cramming in behind me. At the next stop the guys all got off the bus and I dove into a newly empty seat.
Then it dawned on me. Wallet! Crap! After checking I found I was right, the guys who got off lifted my wallet. Then the passenger next to me added insult to injury by saying “Those guys stole your wallet”. She said it like she was saying “Hey, can you pass the salt”? If I had the strength and the language ability I would have said something, but all that came out of my mouth was “yes they stole my wallet”.
Kelly was good enough to jump right up and cancel the bank cards and inform the officials. I made it home with an aching belly and a wounded ego excited to get back in bed, when the phone rang. The medical office informed me that I was feeling bad because I had a bacterial infection and not one but two types of amebas. So it was pretty much the best day ever.
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6 comments:
How many times will Mo be robbed during his service? Well, at the rate of once every 2 1/2 months that would be almost 11 times:)
Seriously, I'm sorry. I hope you are feeing better soon!
hahahahaha....oh man....boom booms...thats f'n priceless. I think I boom boomed myself a little from laughing.
I am so glad to read your post. I think of you often, especially lately. Thought of you everytime I watched a hurricane report on the news. Recently I went to the Rodrigo y Gabriela concert at Red Rocks and there was a vibrant, full rainbow. It reminded me of the time that you and I drove from Albuquerque to Denver. There was the most vibrant rainbow I have ever seen near Aguilar. Everyone was pulling over just to look. :) Breathtaking.
Sorry that you are not feeling well. Kelly, thanks for taking care of (and putting up with) my little bro. Love you both. Jess
Hey-
I'm so sorry to hear about your bad day!
Hope you are feeling better!
Do you want me to send you a money belt? pants with hidden pockets? A new wallet?
We are thinking about you all the time!
Glad you are posting again, though-it keeps us in the loop.
Give us a call soon so we know you are ok now!
Love, mom
oh...mo...I'm so sorry- i hope that you are feeling better.
oh man! crazy....i hope that's the last time you're pick-pocketed. well, after all of your travelling it had to happen some time.
miss you guys.
mo, hope you're feeling better.
love you guys.
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