Home Health Hunks

Cloudy and humid Monday. Jo is coming so we teased Dario he’d be sleeping in the doghouse since he didn’t fix the hot water heater pipe. Jo hates washing dishes in cold water…its horrible when Ana (I can’t pretend I cook any longer, hard enough on my knee while holding my foot up to wash dishes and swab the countertops) cooks with oil, everything stays greasy. We use a bar soap to swipe along a sponge to wash dishes, they do have a liquid soap as well which is not very sudsy. We have our choice of either a bar of soap or powder to launder the clothes.

With the heat, it is a great relief to bathe every day. The shower is an open area with a sheet of glass that divides the space with a toilet and sink. Though it is roomy, I can reach the side walls easily with my long arms. I take my time in the bathroom because, between the large piece of glass and not-so-secure sink, I could easily wipe-out. Scoot along on my plastic bench in the shower, keeping my left leg suspended…comical. To dry off completely and get dressed (there is a man in the house after all!) is a chore. Before I even perceive I have to use the restroom, I plod on over. It is not located inside the house but a step down from my bedroom and one small step up into the bathroom around the corner. Ana and Dario have their own bathroom as well as Jo and her husband. So, essentially I have my own as well, though I graciously share it with guests.

I’ve been reading aloud from the old Vega Magazines for a bit each morning. Ana thinks she might have a children’s grammar book in Portuguese somewhere. I need to be doing something productive! Perhaps I can scrounge up some English students from the hospital. Don’t really know what I should be doing here since I am incapacitated, stuck on crutches and not even adventurous enough to catch the bus. Ana assures me it is too dangerous and bumpy for her comfort level. Sigh. Stuck…but to take away from the gloom…the McFabulous and his male nurse showed up from the local clinic. Wow, what a cutie! McFab is a doll, the latter is a bald-headed and a bit stern but efficient young man.

The two visitors, dressed in jeans and t-shirts arrived in style on their motorcycle, clapping at the gate to announce their arrival. Who knew those two handsome men are a doctor and nurse? After a short conversation with Ana, they came in my room and introduced themselves. They knew I was here because Ana and Dario had stopped by on Friday to collect my meds at the clinic and recounted my accident and medical treatment. Not sure if McFabulous took it upon himself to come and check on me or if it customary to do so. Again, more than half the time I am lost in translation. I showed McFab and Right-Hand Man my X-rays and the former confirmed I broke my fibia and the screws on the tibia secured it all in place. Right-Hand Man un-wrapped the bandage and they both checked the wounds and sutures. Both agreed McWonderful did an excellent job yet were concerned that he would have left the bandage on for so long without a good scrub (ow!) antibiotic cream and new dressing. This warm climate doesn’t serve well for a rapid closure. I was pretty sure the scrapes happened during surgery. I vaguely recall McWonderful sharing something about the wounds but don’t remember what he said. Should have taken a picture of my newly twisted ankle but didn’t have my Ipod at the time. McFabulous and his nurse zipped off on the bike to get supplies at the clinic.

Solente (the egg lady) was with me at the time the Men in Jeans arrived. We were chatting about accidents in the neighborhood, the fact that I shouldn’t climb the hill to the fields with my bad ankle, stated I was sorry that I couldn’t give her the break we promised, I offered to give her children English lessons, etc. Solente must be thirty-five, roundish and pleasant. She has lost most of her front teeth so sometimes it is hard to understand her. After the Men in Jeans departed on an errand to procure the bandages and necessary items to clean the wounds, Solente and I sighed over the fact that McFabulous is so young and precious! Yes, even the mother of four boys can see the benefit of a sweet young thing of a doctor in the neighborhood.

Before we knew it, the motorcycle reappeared in front of the gate and the two hunks fussed over my ankle, gave me care instructions, (only use ice treatments in this weather,) answered Ana and Jo’s questions (the latter had just pulled-in) left behind some medical supplies for their next visit and got their photo taken. They promised to be back on Thursday to do it all over again. I told them they could come back whenever they choose! I would be delighted to host them both.

I was flattered when I showed McFabulous the meds McWonderful prescribed and he said I didn’t need to take the Osteofix, wasn’t sure why it was given to me. I said McWonderful suggested them since I have the beginnings of Osteoperosis. Already? When I told him I am 52 years, 4 months and 37 days old he was shocked and told me…then I guess you should take them. What a darling! McFab encouraged me to stay put here in Registro. He reassured me it is imperative to relax and heal these first four weeks and not to consider traveling. It is too stressful and dangerous to move the leg around that much.

Was so glad to have taken the time earlier this morning to change into something other than the white shorts that were ready to walk away on their own and the t-shirt I had turned inside out to get one more day out of it. Jo was coming and I didn’t want her to think I am a slob. My hair is a bit out of whack but what’s new. Besides, with Jo around, no one is inspecting my head!  

Jo arrived (she is nearly 70, mind you) with a partially shaved head. I laughed since she seemed very self-conscious and unsure of the new doo and suggested she should start a band. Jo said the girl told her it was all the rave now. Well, perhaps for a sixteen year old! Poor thing! Ah, hair grows…at least her ankle bone is intact.

Ian: Sorry about the Tigers. We thought of you each night as Dario switched back and forth from one Sports Channel to the next. “Oh, Ian is crying,” he would spout. We all prayed your team would do better the next day.

How do I maintain my relevance and sense of purpose under these circumstances?

day late and a dollar short

52 years, 4 months and 28 days suggests my intake form as I inspect it before storing it away in my bag. Hm. Strange thing to consider all that has happened in that amount of time, eh? Not that I think I have not accomplished much nor that I need to create a bucket list before I die..just that it is interesting to consider what lies ahead until the end!

Sunday, ho hum. Nothing to do but pull ticks off of Preta, who is recently scissor cut therefore easier to pluck at the buggers! We watched soccer, ate lunch (Dario whipped up some curly pasta noodles and red sauce with the perverbial eggplant and onions) and a cabbage and carrot salad. Ana’s mom had scrambled to find me some peanut butter sweets (round crumbly bits of peanut dust) but who’s to complain? We ate a few of those for dessert. I am hankering for ice cream or a popsicle. Maybe we have a bit of popcorn left to make for dinner!

More ice and heat swapping on my foot. Toes still large and puffy. Feels as though they could just pop off the end of my foot at any given time. Need to rinse off in the shower, it has been so hot and sticky today. The floor isn’t quite as sweaty today so I didn’t have to be SO careful pegging along in the house.

I will have to wait until next Monday (5/11)  for my McWonderful appointment. I thought it was tomorrow…shoot. 

Nothing else to report. Thank goodness!

Love to you all!

Stiff Upper Lip

Last Thursday -Hours after I am dressed in civilian attire, eaten lunch, watched one ridiculous show after another, wrote several letters (for those of you who already receive these from me over the years know I generally write no less than 10 pages per letter!) and read (none of which I will remember) a book.

The nurse comes to collect me and gives me my intake paper (can’t read any of it since McWonderful scribbles like a school boy) and scoots me along to the ambulance. Have to tear out the directions from my calendar. Ana gave them to me the day before; thank goodness I remembered to ask! The nurse couldn’t find the paper she had jotted down the information. She took the crutches and asked if the physical therapist had talked to me about this. No, of course not, she was probably afraid to deal with a patient that would obviously need them. Dario drove to the place to pick up a pair for me but they didn’t have a document they needed to release them to him. He called to ask me if they had given me this slip of paper…no! He got an authorization doc that required a CPF number (I do have one from ten years ago when I was here and got married but Ana was not certain it was still valid so I used my Passport number) and my local contact info. They gave him a pair of crutches that had seen better days. The cushions under the armpits are torn and tattered, there are no rubber tips on the ends so Dario cut up some scraps and taped them on…everything here is jimmy-rigged so I fit right in!

Where was I? 

The elderly man driving the ambulance looks over the directions and asks me a few questions. I honestly had not been paying much attention driving to and from the farm. Had only taken that trip twice since I arrived, once in the dark. Yet, he seemed satisfied with my responses and opened the back of the ancient van. There sat a stretcher on one side and built-in plastic formed seats on the other. I scooted in backwards onto the stretcher and soon realized it was too short for me to lie prone. Hanging onto the side rails and partially sitting upright was very awkward and impossible for me to secure my foot. I opened the window on the left side, a tiny slider that gave me a bit of cool air in the stuffy (and slightly smelly) vehicle. I could see out the back as well but the right side was windowless. When we stopped to let a passenger out and pick up another woman, I told the driver that I was moving to the seat. He looked doubtful but agreed. Watched while I cinched and adjusted the seat belt then closed the double doors leaving me to my own devices. The first bit is fairly flat highway then we turn off onto the rural road and drive 12 km. With the many long rainy days, the pits in the road are enormous. I can tell the driver has experience for he drive carefully and allowed approaching cars the right of way. The usual 45 minute ride took, oh, I don’t know…a very long time. I had my right arm wrapped under my left knee to prevent the foot from bouncing on the cot. Braced my right leg against the far wall of the van. Yes, sounds like fun, doesn’t it? I also had to worry about what I was going to do about getting crutches once home or..what could I use in the meantime. When I arrived, Ana grabbed one arm and the driver the other and I hopped onto the verandah and flopped onto the large cushionless chair. Wow, how beautiful it is here! I kept repeating…this is soo nice, it is gorgeous and green and everything is in bloom. Felt like I had been deprived of the air of life for six days.

Scooted along with a plastic stool Ana had drummed up from somewhere and a matching one hovers over the drain hole in the shower. Scooted and scratched along the tile floors without much effort since Ana had removed all of the throw rugs, bless her heart!

The last few days I have had a few spills but nothing major. Coupla spin-outs on my butt. The tile was sweating since we had a long day of rain yesterday and then very hot steamy day today. Of course I didn’t notice any of this in the last few weeks since I could walk!

Even hanging laundry on the line, getting a glass of water, up and down to turn on the fan or grab a banana, sitting requires a chair with a cushion next to it to prop up my leg, helping with the dishes wears me out perching against the sink, can’t sweep or make the bed easily, write a letter or type this is problematic too. I am using a plastic tray, off to the side, tips a bit for reading in bed, etc. Can’t slip it over my legs because my left knee is propped-up to stabilize the elevated foot. Cuta ran off and everyone chased behind him. I was sorry I couldn’t help as well. He is home now, can’t be loose since he goes after the motorcycles and cars in the road. All of this makes me consider my brother-in-law’s world, having been in a severe accident when he was 18 and using a cane or wheelchair since then. Wow.

Toes like fat breakfast sausages. The leg above the bandage is tight and plump. I have been rotating heat and cold packs but it doesn’t seem to make a dent on the bulbous foot. I am a bit disheartened but…whatever!

Two lazy days of doing nothing but reading, blogging, looking at emails, watching soccer, eating, visiting with Ana and Dario, watching Ana cut Preta’s long hair and wishing I could talk with Taelor. Haven’t spoken to her since I got here October 4^th. She is starting her Cabaret show and I wish I could see it somehow. Break a leg, not a foot!

Denise, my friend in Florianopolis, is encouraging me to go there to rehabilitate. It may be a good option in a few weeks time but I feel a bit unbalanced to be making the long bus trip and organizing everything. I have a big piece of luggage I left in Sao Paulo that would have to be bused over as well. Two bags to drag along from here and on crutches..hm. I will talk with McWonderful on Monday to see what he recommends. Stitches come out then and I can find out about the swelling..or perhaps it will be a mute point by then.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I have no plans. Who knows what will happen!

Until then, my friends…

One last note, I so appreciate all of the prayers and well wishes coming from all of you. For those of you who asked if I am in need of anything-thank you! I think, for now, I am ok. Life is simple and I am counting on having no expectations.

Cat’s miaoing outside the door, crickets chirping and frogs croaking..life is good!

 

Another Day at Camp General Hospital

Surgery Day felt like Dooms Day…on one hand, I was anxious to have it over with, on the other hand, scared “shitless.” Woke up early as everyone else slept-in. I took a shower and trembled inside with reservation. Impossible to get a second opinion now. My friends wanted me to transfer to another hospital and start the process over, no way! I just had to be confident that my initial response to the McWonderful is on-target. Much later, I discovered several different reactions to the Dr. My friend, Lava Pe had a bad experience. He went in with a swollen knee and the Dr told him just to go home, it wasn’t serious. Lava Pe went to another Dr since the knee didn’t get any better and he performed a surgery to correct the symptoms. His wife, on the other hand, has a friend who went to him with a complicated break in her leg and he repaired it beautifully. The Dr at the health clinic nearby also affirmed his good reputation. Consuella doesn’t like McWonderful either, she was reluctant to tell me in the hospital. So, unbeknownst to me, I was heading into the operating room with a controversial Dr. My sense was that he is very proud and wants to impress the Drs in the US with his skills. Of course, there would be a point in time when someone would ask me who performed the surgery. Would it have turned out differently had I been a man or from S America, Brasil, etc? Who knows.

Decided to ask McWonderful before the cast was put on, could I take a look at my foot? I just couldn’t bear the thought of worrying about the appearance of it for an entire month. Since I only have gauze and bandage wrapping, it isn’t an issue. Although very swollen (toes like sausages) and tender, it appears to be alright.

As the nurses and I waited in the doorway, I looked up to see a lizard hovered over my head. I took it as a sign of luck. I didn’t mention it to anyone, it was my secret message.

Knowing I was going into surgery, I didn’t eat much since the afternoon before. Had to put on the hospital gown the correct way (open in the back) and hop onto the cart. Whisked down the hall as the nurse tisked at me about not having my family there. Parked in the hallway next to the surgical board. There is my name, fracture something or other and Dr Gerbin’s name. I stared and began to tear-up. Green gowns whirred by. McWonderful stopped at my head and smiled under his mask, touched my shoulder and told me he was ready.

Finally the room was cleaned and ready for me. The young man behind his mask kept asking me questions, some of which I had no idea what he was getting at. So I told him I am a North American, had to repeat it several times before he understood. This happens frequently. Just so far from their realm of reality.

The anesthesiologist arrived. Aside from McWonderful, he was THE most sympathetic and attentive. He stroked my hair and stood behind me several times to reassure me. I got an epidural and in minutes my left leg felt like a tree trunk. McWonderful scrubbed my foot, what a strange sensation. They had to switch my access line since it wasn’t working, by the time I left, I had to be pricked seven times since the needles either fell out or got bumped and stopped flowing. I squirmed in discomfort due to the sounds of the surgery; drilling, clipping off the ends of the screws, pounding my bones into place, sewing sutures, adjusting muscles and pulling my skin. I closed my eyes drawing on the music I listened to last night. Asked my mom to come in and comfort me. She has been gone a long time and I knew, if there was a way for her to be there, she would. No one could take these steps forward but me.

The X-ray technician was there, taking images throughout. McWonderful asked him to turn the monitor so I could view them also. I could see the technician’s face and our eyes met. I shook uncontrollably from the anesthetic or trauma or…? The images flashed and McWonderful added more screws..in the end, I have seven of them and a plate. At one point, McWonderful seemed to be looking for something and it wasn’t available. He screamed in frustration saying “This must be a joke, what a joke, impossible!” Soon after, he came around the curtain separating us and told me “Everything is OK.” Much later, “I am finished, it is perfect…was very complicated and serious but is alright now.”

One of the attendants finished up the sutures as McWonderful ran out of the room saying he was three hours behind his schedule. He also told me that I have the beginning signs of osteoporosis. When I got my medications list, it included a preventative for these symptoms. Unfortunately the health clinic doesn’t carry it so I will research alternatives or pay the R$90 per month to purchase them. All of the medical care, including the ambulance ride, crutches and medications are free!

Wheeled into the recovery room. Cried and cried in isolation and probably relief. The slightest touch or look of sympathy caused me to tear-up. They brought in a four year old boy who had umbilical hernia surgery. He was animated and cheered me up with his antics. Two attendants came by to talk with me. One asked if I spoke ANY Portuguese, I responded “Fala” He was a bit irritated but I understood when he told me I could not lift my head for six hours. I would get a terrible headache from the anesthesia.

Rolled back into Room 1 and realized Granny and her family as well as the Italian woman were released. Tatiana remained. She seemed glad to see me.

I laid in bed sending telepathic messages to Taelor that I was ok. Called Ana to tell her I returned to the room and the surgery was a success. She wanted to come and see me immediately but I thought if she did I would burst into tears. Told her I couldn’t sit up for six hours and I would probably sleep. She insisted she and Ian would come. If I were asleep, so be it.

They arrived bearing gifts of clean clothes and fruit. I so wanted to speak to Ian in English but didn’t want to be rude. Felt the urge to share the agony and suffering but perhaps it was best that he didn’t hear it, what could he do with that information? It would only be a burden for him.

That afternoon Jeniffer checked-in. She is 17 and both of her parents came and went throughout her stay. She had some sort of gynelogical issue yet they wanted to observe her before deciding about surgery.

During our novella, Luzia arrived screaming and moaning in pain. She had a tubal ligation. “Meu Dios Do Ceu!” she repeated over and over, “Me-ajudar!” “Dor, dor!” It went on like that all night. Of course, since I had access to the ringer, I hit the button often. Luzia was told she could not have any more meds, she couldn’t get up until the morning and no, nothing to drink either. Jeniffer’s dad was perched on the guest chair nearby, having to absorb Luzia’s cries, the brilliant lights turning off and on for blood pressure and temp checks, and my getting up and down to use the restroom.

Obviously I had a lot of pain and asked for extra injections throughout the night. They reduced the meds the next day and McWonderful showed up to say I needed to remain in the hospital one more day. Per usual, I had a list of questions for him.

Finally a nutritionist was summoned. I think the kitchen help was tired of hearing me tell him that I don’t eat meat, that I hate to have them throw it out. A pretty delicate Japanese/Brasilian woman asked me what I DO eat. Eggs? From then on, I was served beans and rice, some sort of egg dish and, invariably something with a tinge of meat (soup, cooked potatoes, steamed veggies.) 

The day dragged. Finally ate a big bowl of soup and found…meat! Ugh. Watched our soaps and chatted about scar prevention, raising children (Luzia has five, Tatiana one, Jeniffer is an only child,) who killed whom in the final episode of the famous novella, futebol standings, Tatiana’s mattress has a huge hole in the middle where her bottom rests so she was quite uncomfortable, Luzia had forgotten all about her night of excruciating pain and tv show after tv show.

Had another X-ray taken when Ana and Dario arrived. The wheelchair had a dangerous wobble to it and the nurse struggled to maintain a direct path. I was whisked to the front of the line amongst patients securing their wrists, elbows and knees. They all bore the tortured look of pain and anguish.

Thank goodness for Ana’s insistence that someone come every day to visit me. I would have felt very isolated and lonely seeing family members and friends of my dorm mates. Even though I felt badly that they made the long drive (1.5 hours per round trip) I was greatly relieved. Couldn’t have asked for better hosts. So difficult for me to be in the position of needing help. I always felt uplifted after Ana, Dario and Ian’s drop-ins.

Awoke anxious to be released. Took a shower, ate my bread and slurped sweet coffee. Had to wait for McWonderful. Luzia was visited by her Japanese/Brasilian female Dr and let go. Her mom and eldest daughter (22) visited her the day before but must have taken the bus since an ambulance was called. It arrived before she could even take a shower and she promptly kissed everyone goodbye and left. Her sheets were stripped and name whipped off the board and the bed sat vacant, awaiting the next patient. Tatiana was reminded of how many have come and gone since she was admitted. She seemed stressed and unhappy. Her mom and (if he should pass the test) boyfriend visited her individually as well as her daughter. Soon after they left however, she took a nap or fussed in her bed. At least her mattress was turned at my suggestion-why she didn’t complain I don’t know. Ana tells me that is one of the biggest issues, when conditions are bad for the poor, they never open their mouths, perhaps feeling insecure or inept. If no one objects, things remain the same. A woman had come by the day before with a survey. I filled-in the boxes (they had facial expressions alongside the words BOM, MAL, OK, etc) On the back I had the ability to write something. Instead I chose to tell the woman who I am and my complaints-the gravest being the handicap bars in the bathroom and inadequate equipment (crutches or walkers in my case) for the patients, never mind the lights not functioning properly, no id checks, meds mixed together in the nurses tray, nurse call button not functioning at each bedside, etc. I told her to look in the bathroom to see the lack of a toilet seat. If I fell, I suggested, I would hit my head directly on the ceramic. I think I startled her but she seemed to take my word for it and didn’t peek in the bathroom nor test the call buttons, etc.

Had a bit of lunch (omelet of sorts and left the beans and rice untouched and gobbled the lettuce strips) and watched tv while writing letters. I am sure they were scattered and incomprehensible since I was anxious to depart. McWonderful showed up at 11:45 and gave me my list of meds, described each one (anti-inflammatory, osteoperosis preventative and an antibiotic.) Didn’t realize at the time that there was nothing prescribed for pain. Luckily I still have a good amount of Hydrocodone from the dentist as well as some Advil for back-up. I asked if I needed to clean the wound or worry about the bandage but he told me to leave it alone, the exact opposite of what the nurse told me. This morning as she cleaned, scrubbed and sanitized the wounds before re-wrapping it. McWonderful gave me my final X-ray and told me he would see me on Monday to remove the stitches. I got a kiss on the cheek and a wave goodbye.

The nurse organized the ambulance, thought it best that my leg remain straight-difficult in a small Fiat. I asked if I could borrow the crutches, at least until my appointment on Monday and the nurse thought there would not be a problem. The nurse cleaned, scrubbed, sanitized and re-wrapped my ankle. It is still quite swollen and misshapen but the nurse seemed happy with the appearance of the wounds on either side of my ankle.

By 1:30pm I was frustrated, distracting myself with a book by Mark Twain.  

Obviously WAAYYY too much time on my hands..

Marquinhos and Mateos came by to say hello. They belong to the family who lives on the farm. I showed them the grotesque photos of the foot and some others of Taelor and our adventures I have on the computer. Marquinhos broke his arm falling in the same hole so we had a lot to talk about. “Cosa, cosa de mais!” he kept telling me enthousiatically (itches, itches so much!) Darling boys. Mateos just returned from a tennis camp he went to in Sao Paulo along with four other boys. They slept at the school and played all day long. He was enchanting. When he saw Taelor’s photo, he put his face right up to the screen, “Linda!” Does she live in Sao Paulo? No, I had to admit she is much farther away than that. When I said she lives in the US Marquinhos replied, “oh, she’s an American!” “Me too” I told them…”nuh ah” they responded together. Yes, I am bewitched by these two little gents. Marquinhos must be 12 and Mateos 14 or so.

Back to General Hospital episodes…

Sunday came and went without much action that I can recall. My foot hurt a lot and I behaved myself, not that I really expect anyone to believe it but it is true. Humbled by my simple surroundings. Tiled bathroom (which I had to myself since Yolande is plastered to her bed, using a bed pan-the horror of it!) made for a slippery slope at times. At this point, I had had enough meals to know what to expect. A shit brown covered tray split into thirds arrives. Pop the lid and you will find three fourths of it is rice with a bit of beans strewn across the top. In one corner is a slit of thinly sliced lettuce or soggy veggies (cukes, eggplant, squash) while the third corner stored some sort of meat dish (cooked chicken, ground beef or sliced something or other.) I had suggested they leave off the meat but I am sure they didn’t understand. Hate to waste food yet the meat kept appearing..

Monday morning I hit the shower early. Came out of the bathroom to find someone in my bed! The Three Bears are pulling tricks on me again! Turns out someone in dire need-a Japanese Brasilian slip of a thing was in a bad motorcycle accident, full of scraps and looking pretty pathetic needed more privacy that the other room had to offer. Swapped to Room 1.

I got the bed near the control switch for the nurses call button. It was the only one of several perched on the walls around the room. By the time I left the hospital, I noticed the missing mirror in the bathroom, lack of a toilet seat or cover, no security bars on any given wall, the overhead lights only worked on one side of the large room and the windows had to be propped open with empty latex glove boxes, the wheelchairs had torked and wobbly roundish wheels that swayed the passenger from one side of the hallway to the other, the walker they scrounged up for me had a missing rubber tip so I scotched along, screeching against the tile. Never got accustomed to the off-balance sensation of the inadequate equipment. An accident waiting to happen!

Tatiana in Bed #1 across the aisle from me has a tumor in her stomach. She flashed her foot at me declaring she had a motorcycle accident four years ago and had a plate and several screws put into her left foot. I was horrified by the results of the surgery-a very deformed and twisted foot…yikes! Could not erase that image from my mind until long after my surgery.

Bed #2 was an Italian/Brasilian whom reminded me of my mom. She was getting a varicose vein removed. In and out in no time. Her neighbor/daughter/friend was in the room for a long time, rearranging the furniture, watching the soaps, sharing her sack full of apple bananas (yum, they are the best!) and gossiping. She also fussed about and fed the elderly woman in Bed #3. Granny was pretty bruised up, had her ankle wrapped and seemed very out of it. She is only 84 but was ancient as the hills. Her granddaughter and daughter both spent a night each. They made themselves at home, got meals served along with the patients and chatted with the nurses like they are long-lost relatives. Everyone had to keep track of Granny’s roaming hands. She was admonished for scratching at herself and picking at the ankle bandage. Granny was gone when I got back from surgery. Left without a trace.  

McWonderful (Dr Gebrin) arrived and assured me surgery was scheduled for the next day. Whee! By this time I had no interest in the meals. Could smell the beans and rice cooking with meat and it turned my stomach. Mostly feasted on the bread and fruit, chugged the sweet coffee and tea and guzzled water, as much as I could manage..also had to keep in mind the energy it took and how painful it was to make the trips to and from the restroom. Hm.

Started getting very nervous about the surgery. Does McWonderful really know what he is doing? Or is his charm just a facade for hack jobs? As Ana and Ian left the hospital that day they ran into a friend of Ana’s who happens to know an Orthopedic Surgeon in another city nearby who could perhaps do the surgery. I met this friend and know him as Lava Pe (wash your feet!) but a woman showed up asking if I was Daniel’s friend. After much confusion I realized that she is a nurse with the public health system. Consuella didn’t know Dr Gerbrin’s reputation and would check into it. She came back several times but nothing ever came of it. I just had to have faith in my initial reaction to this doctor and just go with it. Unless someone can step in and pull strings, nothing is really done, could go ‘round and ‘round forever!

Laid and fretted most of the night. I thank my lucky stars Ian uploaded a ton of music on my Ipod for me and I could soak in the familiar tunes versus allowing my thoughts to drift into the dark abyss of fear.

Life and Death at General Hospital

Going back in time to the night I arrived at the hospital. Dario waited calmly while Ana got the car. She didn’t really know what we were in for but answered to Dario’s yodel. He was great, holding my quaking foot tenderly in his hand while conversing with the motorcyclist who came to deliver the buffalo cheese products. I just sat in baffled silence, concentrating on not looking down at my contorted foot. Yuck!

After some scrambling and consideration about my documents someone just grabbed my purse. My dangling foot was wrapped in a bed sheet that had been abandoned in the car from veggie delivery day. Jo, Ana’s mom ended up being my helper in the backseat. Initially Ian was plopped down in the backseat to hold my foot with eyes wide open in astonishment at the circumstances. He was probably soo relieved to give up his space to Jo. She managed to blather on telling me stories about other such incidences. Once, in the gloomy painful silence I begged her to tell me the story about how she met Jorge, her husband…anything to keep my mind off the volumeous moaning coming from my mouth.

The drive was incredibly long and treacherous. The road is rural and made of firm red dirt. Bumps and toggles sent me into a painful tailspin. Ana drive as quickly as she could without causing me harm. Forever and a day later, we arrived at the ER. Ana stayed by my side the entire time, bless her big heart.  We arrived at 8:15pm.

Jo was perusing my purse for any ID. She told Ana, “all she has is candy, lipstick, hairbands and cash…no ID…what is she thinking?” In the end, it didn’t matter.

Intake consisted of this list of questions: NAME: when I told him “Paula Hill” without declaring my middle name, “is that all?” he asked, I honestly didn’t want to bother spelling out Finocchiaro. He had a hard enough time with just my first and last name!

DOB: day/month/year, Mother’s Maiden Name: ended up having to spell it out because it is the same as my middle name and Place of Birth:St Paul threw him as well. The clerk just shrugged when I added “Estados Unidos.” The first medic was a crab, the ER nurse was sympathetic and gave me something for the pain right away. I was wanting to peek at my wobbly foot but Ana told me it was better not to strain myself…yes, it is BAD!

An older passerby woman slid over with a worried look on her face, mind you, this is the ER entryway, to ask Ana what happened to me…she gave her the Cliff Note version-“fell into a hole and broke her foot.” The elder moved on to someone with a better saga.

Didn’t take long and I was whisked into X-ray. The technician was an elder, wise in his comforting tisking. Twisted and turned my foot this way and that but it didn’t seem as bad under his care. They still use the large grey plates that transfer to a door in the wall. Heard a long cranking sound and the sheet came out on the other side. I could tell by his face and the way he ran the results down the hall I would not have a “clean break” diagnosis. He was looking grim while speaking with the guy in a white coat.

Minutes later I was in the Sala de Gesso (Casts) and the doctor went on a bit then obviously asked me a question. I confessed I am a North American and could he speak more slowly. His name is Dr Gebrin and he is the head of the Orthopedic Department and a Surgeon. My condition is severe. It is a terrible break. I have floating fragments of bone. The foot is far too swollen to operate on so I will have to wait four to five days for the swelling to go down. The surgery will be complicated and it will require a plate and some pins. If I want to stay and have the operation, he could do that, unless I prefer to go back to the States for the procedure. I told him I felt in good hands with him and to proceed. His English is halting and minimal yet I also understood most of what he told me. Dr asked me who I wanted for president “Obama” I replied emphatically…thank goodness he is an Obama fan as well. I could have burned my bridges without considering the consequences. As he was writing out the med sheet he asked me if I had any allergies…only to large holes in the ground.

I was zoomed into Room 2 after “lounging” in the ER hall waiting for a bed, with sullen Yolande who barely looked up when I was wheeled-in. Her leg was propped up on a platform, under her foot was a blown-up latex glove. She had a groovy cushy blanket draped over herself and a set mouth to distract my observation. Jo was busy watching the final episode of her novella with the rest of the crowd. Loads of June bugs sailing around the room. Ana came by to say goodbye and shared her version of the ending. 

The terrible first night of undulating under the covers in pain, hollering for the nurse (I didn’t realize there was a call box dangling behind to my head.) Nurse Ratchet refused me more pain meds. I then pleaded for Tylenol, aspirin or even some ice to blanket the pain…no, no, no. She mumbled something about “education” which made absolutely no sense to me. At 5:30am I thought she whispered in my ear that my mom was in the waiting room. Jo had promised to come by early to bring some of my essentials. I even swore I heard her talking down the hall. She got there at 8:30.

Dr Gerbrin came each day to visit (as promised.) I requested something to stave off the sharp pains and he agreed to note it in my chart.

The gang from Sitio Caaete came faithfully as well. Ana, Dario, Ian or any combination of two arrived bearing gifts. I got fresh bread, pao de queijo (one of my favs) books, clothes, homeopathic remedies, pain meds left over from my dental visit and when I opened one of the books, Taelor’s photo dropped into my lap. I nearly cried from missing her so much.

Yolande’s family came and went. They would smuggle in snacks (she is diabetic and insisted she couldn’t eat anything in my bag yet devoured all of her snacks at one time-writing “in one sitting seemed too cruel”) and purr to her while combing her hair or argue with her about I don’t know what. As I understand it, she was hit by a car on her motorcycle and the guy left but they think they know who he is and they all seem to be stalking him…The son was immediately sent off to buy lotion and chips. Her daughter had a plastic bag full of black lingerie that her friend was selling, surprisingly she didn’t offer it to me! Her brothers, sister and sister-in-law came with their father (a tiny slip of a man of Japanese descent.) He perched on the guest chair and didn’t say much of anything. Bobbled out soon after. Yolande’s husband showed up with his bike helmet several times, once wet as a soaked piece of bread. He hovered, petted, fluffed pillows, adjusted her back and ran to get the nurse several times. He seemed to have a lot to say about the perp. One brother who resembled an Italian mobster, open silk shirt, curly black hair protruding out, big bold gold chains dangling from his neck…insisted she should do something about her circumstances. Yolande has been (and still is to this day) stuck in Room 2 since October 7! Tells me she is waiting for a bed in another hospital. She has a broken femur and for whatever reason they cannot do the surgery here. Gads!

I thought Saturday was bath day but as it turns out, every day is Bath Day! A male nurse came in the room and Yolande was one big scowl. She refused to let him stay so he sulked out only returning to help make the bed. I never did see hide nor hair of him again..kinda cute, too bad!

Knew a spongebath was not to my liking so I sighed with relief when the nurse suggested I take a shower in the bathroom. As you may or may not know, women in Brasil shave everything below the waist. As I was hollering for help in the shower, needing a towel or some such necessity..the nurse opened the door. I hopped out on one leg and before I could plant my butt cheek on the bed she was asking me where I am from, claiming it was my accent that gave me away…I do know the truth of it. Probably ran rampid thru the hospital corridors. Had to laugh since my friend Cristina suggested I may want to chirar pele (take off hair) while we were at the salon…”no thanks, I’m good,” I replied. Ha, if I had only known. Perhaps I would have shaven it into a heart shape or something just as quaint!

Saturday flew by and I was exhausted by the end of the long day of doing absolutely nothing.

Go Tigers!

This post is dedicated to Ian.

Ian:

I cannot tell you how much your efforts and friendship has meant to me over the last 12 days. The chats in the field while you successfully honed the beds and I chipped away at my meager section were entertaining. I so enjoyed the companionship of a kindred spirit.

From the night prior to surgery to now, I have been listening to the music you so generously uploaded for me on my Ipod. As the familiar tunes washed over me, tears of concern streamed down my face, wetting the earphones and caused them to drop off onto the sheet on either side of my head. I waited in the hallway after being pushed from my room, anxious and freaked out that the outcome would not be good. The songs ran through my head and soothed my anxiety.

We had such brief interactions in the hospital since there were so many people around. So wished I had the wherewithal then to talk with you in English, not be so concerned about the others and share my fears and concerns. I simply needed a friend, a hug and sympathetic ear.

I will have a lot to tell you the next time we meet, my friend. Thank you for who you are to me and the many others you serve.

Take good care, drive fast and take risks…but watch those deadly holes in the dark!

Love,

Paula

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

Ah to be outdoors again and…free!

After being sequestered in the hospital for more than six days, five to ten pounds lighter and weary from doing nothing, I am so relieved. It is such a privilege to be American, from a First World Country with everything accessible. Came back to the farm sans crutches.  I was promised I could take the one pair the hospital owned for a few days until I could figure out another option. At the moment I was climbing into the van (Ambulance) for the long bumpy ride “home” the nurse took them out of my grasp insisting I had to find another option. Arrived in one piece, legs quaking from holding one up and securing the other against the far wall of the van. Normally it takes about 45 minutes to drive back from town, think this trip was about a day and a half!  

Ana made a few phone calls on my behalf and was able to find a friend in town who has a pair of crutches. If he cannot find them easily, Dario will swing by the shop and buy a pair for me. He probably knows by now, if he shows up without the necessary equipment, he may have to sleep in the doghouse!

I hugged Birnabe hard when I got here. He is the cat that was miaoing like crazy when I was hollering “sorrcoho” after I fell into the hole. What a smart kitty! No one thought to investigate why the dogs were barking since they sound the alarm whenever someone walks by.  An insistent cat is obviously another story. Something about the way he was crying caused Ana to open the door.

Tired, so tired. Will write more tomorrow, promise!

A Bit Under The Weather

Dario and Ian arrived so I have time to write a quickie blog to send from the hospital. It’s a big FIESTA here, no doubt.

The pain is more manageable since Ian squirreled in some 500 mg Tylenol. Had blood sample taken this morning then I realized that I also had to give a urine sample so now they will know I have been taking something other than what they have given me…oh well. I can blame it on the nurse Rachette who would not give me more pain meds last night. She yelled at me, suggesting I was in pain since I went to the bathroom on my own instead of calling them and using the bedpan. I hobble into the bathroom, grabbing onto anything that doesn’t roll. There are no security handles near the toilet or shower. The tile floor is slick when they wash everything down…so, it is a comedy to and fro..at least the "G" hospital supplied scrubs are loose..ish.

It is surely a novella here at the hospital. Nurses, meal delivery personnel, cleaners, bathers come and go. Yolande, my roomie has many visitors.  Her hubby speaks in rapid-fire Portuguese and I cannot understand two words.

The Pity Parties come and go but for the most part, I am in good spirits. Yolande has to be transported to another hospital since she broke her femur. She is totally freaked-out. The Pastor came in last night and prayed for the two of us. Cute, young and completely sympathetic. We both benefited from his calm energy. 

More tomorrow if I get the chance. No news from the doc since he hasn’t arrived yet today.

Love to you all from Registro!

Drug Seeking Behavior

Crashed and burned last night. Left the Bunkers when it was nearly dark and slid down the dark path and into the ditch. Broke my left foot. It was ugly. Pulled myself out of the hole and began yelling for help. Seemed like a long time with the dogs barking then stopping…thought I might even try to scoot backwards to the house around the corner and through the gate, into the yard but realized I could not secure my foot and slither along at the same time. We slowly bumped along the road, trying to find the right combination of reducing the bumps and medium speed. It seemed like forever before I we got to the highway.

Just wanted everyone to know I may not be sending out my Blog everyday. Prayers for my surgery on Tuesday or Wednesday goes smoothly would be fabulous. It was a bad break and there are fragments that have to be secured to the bone. Not sure exactly what it means but the orthopedic surgeon seems confident it will all be fine. The swelling is down today and there are no disfigurements under the wrap. Can wiggle my “fingers”. Toes are fingers of the foot so he asked me to move my fingers…we laugh at his mistakes and I laugh at mine.

I am ok, just taking it one step at a time.

Brown as a Bear

My glee is waning a bit. Find myself dragging out of bed and pulling on work clothes isn’t nearly as adventuresome as before. At times I look longingly at my cute shirts, skirts and makeup that I haven’t touched since I arrived. Ah well, there will be more days, weeks, years to use them. Have not left the house for a week and I look forward to the deliveries tomorrow to get a chance to bop into town.

Washing my grungy socks everyday, panties and my sweaty hat. Can’t face a day with stiff muddy socks. If I forget my clothes outside on the line overnight, I have to put them on wet since they collect the moisture from the air. Still washing by hand but will mingle my clothes with Ian’s tomorrow. Feel less guilty using the washer when it is for two of us. Don’t have that many clothes to wash all at once.  

The dishes are all washed by hand in cold water. Still have yet to fix the pipe that is attached to the hot water tank. The shower is warmish. I don’t mind when the sun is out and it’s dry but when it was raining and overcast...wah!

Blisters and cuts are healing. Much more savvy with my knife and always remembering to put on my gloves before heading up to the fields. My hat and water bottle were my companions this morning. Weeded and tore all of the “old and ugly” leaves from the kale. Bagged all of the remnants for the chickens. As galinhas are having a fiesta this afternoon. Getting ready for lunch. Pots bubbling on the wood stove and I set the table. Plunk everything down in the middle and hands snatch the plates and utensils to pile food from the wood stove. Have a bit of time to prepare this Blog before the meal is ready.

The novella is interesting to be a part of-everyone sits and blabs during the drama and I can catch the gist of it between the dialog and tv show. It gets integrated into the meal conversations…who is going to be killed, will the family pay the ransom, who is sleeping with whom, etc.

Yesterday we were so busy getting all of the boxes ready to deliver to the city. Up and down the hillside to collect kale, eggplant, papaya and cherry tomatoes. Made sure to sing out loud to myself so the snakes would slither away.

Delivery day was insane. Had to separate the boxes for each client, create receipts, run up and down the hillside to collect more produce, sticker the egg cartons, staple a scrap of paper to each box so we would remember what was missing from the box. The manioc is frozen and needed to be kept in a cooler. The next time we will also have a cooler for the cheese and requeijao (which is much like whipped cream cheese) since it took us so long to complete the deliveries.

I got in the car with Dario, lists in hand. I double-checked the math as we bumped along the dirt road. Had one tablet with carbon copied receipts (little did I know the carbon was rubbing off on my white shorts!) one with a list of client-some of which had addresses, nearly none of them had a phone number) and my list of things to add to the boxes once we arrived at the destination.

If it were up to me…which of course, it isn’t…I would have all of the boxes organized in the car going from farthest to closest. We picked up a box of lettuce, huge beautiful heads bursting with water and sprigs of broccoli and hard green heads of cabbage. The other farmer brought it to us and we had to scramble to find enough room in the already disorganized car. Oh boy! I felt strangled by the scent of dirt though I had just showered before lunch. Dirt under my fingernails gave me away, a band of sweat didn’t hide the fact that I work on a farm. Usually I sat in the car while Dario made the delivery and collected the money.

Was horrified to look down at my hands, dirt crammed in my nails, soil stripes across my palm, my hair dried weird and I immediately had to laugh at myself. I represent the farm and no one cares how I look, I’m sure.

The first client didn’t answer the door (later we discovered her doorbell is out of order!) second stop Dario came back from the grey building without the box (it was noted as a red building, 4^th floor and the apartment number but he chose to ignore those details.) Told me it was the wrong place but he left the box anyway. The receipt consists of the client’s first name, what they ordered and the prices.

We drove around for four hours, back and forth, looking for client’s addresses, squinting for the street signs in the rapidly approaching darkness and making sure, when we did encounter the client, that the box contained everything it was should have. I was starving. When we pulled alongside the bakery, I was drooling for a pao de queijo (delicious bread roll with cheese inside.) I refrained, thinking (wrongly) that dinner would be ready on the table when we arrived at the house. It was another hour before I had a plate of spaghetti with eggplant in the sauce. Whew!

On the overcast day it was nice to have some cloud coverage in the fields. It was hot and yet I wasn’t dripping sweat-nothing worse than having sun block mixed with sweat dribbling down my face. I end up wiping my face off with my t-shirt or glove then have smears across my face. Don’t dare sit next to anyone at lunch unless I have showered off.

Made twenty packets of palmito pieces, 15 sacks of 500 kg, 25 of 700 kg. First we cut the palm tree down then strip the casing. The bottom is cut off and we soak it in a mild bleach water solution, rinse, weigh, then air dry then bag, seal and label each one. So labor intensive but it will generate R$450 ($225US) we worked all afternoon on that project. Dario will deliver it to a suburb of Sao Paulo, driving a total of 6 hours, give-or- take. Yes, the life of a farmer isn’t easy!

Had tea and fresh cookies made by Jolinha (Ana’s mom!) and we gobbled them down, one-by-one. Ah, satisfied my sweet tooth…it is Friday!

Tired and content

What a weakling I am! It's been far too long since I did any manual labor. Need to practice my hoe swing. I have blisters on both hands now despite using my gloves. Guess I am now "broken-in." 

Decided not to stay up late watching the baseball game. Ian (who is from Detroit) paced while the gang watched the latest novella saga. Had dinner at 8:00pm. Don’t know how they wait so long between meals, lunch was at 1:00pm. We dodged the June bugs and swatted mosquitoes during the meal. 

Need to stash cookies or bars in my bedroom, sneaking them as I feel faint from hunger…ha! No, really, I am not withering away to nothing…though it is hard to tell since there is no full mirror to be found. Just have to guess that my new regime is working and I am losing fat, gaining muscle.

Ana’s mom and I took a walk with Preta. Every time a motorcycle or car drive by, she ran after it half-heartedly. Jumped in the little pond then ran like a crazed dog to dry off. While strolling along, told Ana’s mom I have plans to find Brasilians to rent their homes during the World Cup then for the Olympics if that worked out. I will find North Americans who want to go to the World Cup and chaperone tours around Brasil. Ana’s mom is more interested in house-exchange…anyone up for that? They have a few houses and she would love to see another part of the US.

Hot day in the sun hoeing and preparing the beds for more kale.  Weeding in between taking water breaks and chatting with Ian. We solved the mysteries of life. Off to lunch and at a plateful of beans and rice (what a surprise!) cabbage and squash, then another plate full of salad stuff…enough for three people I think.

Tired today. Went to read in bed and turned off the light early. A bit more of tossing and turning, thinking about everything and nothing in particular. No worries these days about what I should do when I grow up or my next entrepreneurial project. Interesting shift.  I forgot how it feels to be more present to what I am doing, how I am being versus chasing after new clients or needing to generate enough money for the Visa bill.

This afternoon we will organize the beds to plant tomatoes. Need to string up the wires and start to dig into the worm bin. Dario decided we should raise worms for the chickens and hopefully we can convince him to use it as mulch on the plants.

I told Ian he needs a helmet to get into his bed-he hits his head on the frame every time since it is so close to the upper bunk.  He is established in the office area since they are painting the bunkers. The rooms are like little cells, I don’t know that I would want to stay there. Feel so fortunate that the space wasn’t organized before I got here. The open kitchen is nice, though. We usually eat lunch and dinner up here now. It is a short walk from the main house, the path crosses the driveway.   

The electrician and painter are both here. After a morning in the fields, I arrived and the electrician was making an extension cord. I thought he was Ana’s dad. He is Japanese/Brasilian and speaks sooo rapidly I have a hard time following what he is saying. When he asked if the cord was sufficient, Ana’s mom (still don’t know her name) chided him, she only wanted two short cords, not one long one. They argued for awhile about that. She doesn’t want to pay either one of them for any extra time. Ran into town this morning to get more supplies so they wouldn’t waste time waiting for her. I think they get R$15 per day (US$15) or perhaps she is only paying the electrician per cord.

The painter leaves all of his stuff lying around, places dirty tools on the counter next to the clean dishes…gads…Stresses me out. See what happens when I don’t have anything bigger to worry about?

I made the mistake of throwing Preta some bits of fat from the beans. She won’t eat anything but dry dog food…weird! So I gave it to the white cat. He gobbled it up then, as we were eating lunch, he leaped onto the stove ledge to get into the uncovered pots perched on the edge. A conversation ensued about cats, their antics and bad habits. Mea culpa! Ana asked the workmen if they wanted a cat. I like them because they keep the rats and snakes away from the house. The electrician told us he killed a snake near the house this morning…wish I would just see one and get it out of the way.

The maid was bit by a centipede I think. She found red itchy welts across her stomach. I lent her my anti-itch antibiotic cream. Luciana got instant relief. Felt like a miracle worker!

Ian helped me add photos from my Ipod Touch to the blog. It is so slow, I will send a few at a time with my blog. Maybe he can help me organize the sync and music. He has loads of movies and books, music and photos. My laptop may not be able to handle it all… Thank goodness for a techie volunteer!!

Drank coffee and had some peanut candies for dessert! Gotta wash some clothes…my now mud brown socks. Then off to the fields to plant late this afternoon until dark.

No strange food, no animal attacks, no broken limbs...ho hum...

Ate!

This is the life!

Sitting in my own sweat, though overcast and a bit of a breeze blows through, I have worked hard this morning pulling the sheets of plastic off the remaining rows of dead crops. Rolled them up with Ian’s help (he was the swashbuckling guy with the machete!) and added mulch to the row of eggplant. Asked the plants to produce enough for 8-12 kilos per day. The eggplants are between three and five inches. Very small according to our standards. There are four enormously long rows but they are being consumed by some insect and have a fungus. Poor things!

Worked until late last night, past 9:00 anyway, preparing the veggies for delivery to Santos. Dario and his friend (who supplies the broccoli and lettuce-nearly always short of the requests) went along. For the ride, for companionship and to keep him awake since they left at 3:00am. They brought three small boxes to deliver to individuals and several for the guy who was purchasing for a number of restaurants. We put together carboned receipts with an address on the top, individual prices and a delivery charge, equivalent to $1.50. I think the receipts totaled just over R$400.00 (in dollars is half of that value.) Imagine, a full days work for such a small amount of money! Having to deliver it 250 kilometers (?) one way.

Woke up to sweet cornbread, fresh bread from the break maker, coffee and papaya. Yum! Toiled in the fields for a few hours to work up my hunger for a lunch of beans and rice (of course!) with manioc crumbled over the top, steamed manioc, squash and eggplant and dark, strong coffee afterwards. “Where is the dessert,” is my question.

Renato is weedwacking, Ian reads in his toddler bunkbed, Ana’s mom is probably curing cancer in the Main House, Paulo is constructing the bunkers and remodeling the house, Dario hasn’t returned from Santos, Cuta the dog has been released from the kennel since there was an army of gigantic ants lined up in and around his quarters. I put Burt’s Bees insect repellent around his head since the big flies were like a halo around his ears, Preta is scoping the area for more bones from the bean pot. A noisy and productive afternoon…plan on heading back up to the fields (surely I will lose weight after traipsing back and forth a quarter mile to the fields a few times a day! Without dessert…

Few items divide the wall space in the houses. More often than not, the bedrooms have a bed, small nightstand and a dresser of some sort. With a light above it isn’t such a comfortable place to read before dozing off. No knickknacks, no pictures or decorative items. There are a few handmade items on one shelf, presents from clients or friends of Ana’s. Most are actually pretty hideous. We had a good laugh over the two frog statues Ana brought home last week. She told me her friend insisted she choose a few treasures. On top of a conch shell stood two frogs plastered with bright green eyes (resembled Fruit Loops cereal) with plastic umbrellas. Horrible!

Off to the fields!

Took a Dump

Gorgeous day on the farm, a bit overcast and no rain, not a drop!

Had trouble falling asleep then once I did, seemed as though I just closed my eyes and everyone was getting up since Eva and Yago left for Germany. Dario had to pick up veggies and fruits from another farm then collect Ian at the bus station. Think it was 4am. Could not fall back asleep after that.

Got up to Ana’s mom complaining that there was nothing to fix for breakfast. I cut up a huge papaya that was going bad…always having to eat the produce that wasn’t sold so it is not always in the best shape. Had mine, seeds and all (they are a bit bitter) with a dollop of vanilla yogurt. Coffee is always a must, everyone is savoring the Dunn Bros Ethiopian coffee I brought. Grinding it in a meat grinder each day. Guzzled about four glasses of water before heading up to the fields. Forgot to get a count on the cabbage and eggplant requests so I trudged back down the hill, past the chickens (I always holler hello to the “girls”) and come back to the house. Retrieved my Swiss Army Knife as well to cut the eggplant. A few times up and down each day make me feel like Jack(aline) Lalane (sp?)  Doubt I have lost any weight but I do feel better physically.

Picked cherry and small roma tomatoes, looking out for the snakes in the grass. Also cut eggplant (up and down six rolls to collect the biggest of the lot-the restaurant requested 12 kg.) and cabbage leaves (tore off four rows to equal two big baskets) and poked seven papayas with a stick, careful to grab them so they won’t hit the ground. They have two types here on the farm, one small and roundish, the other long and fat.

Popped down with the full wheelbarrow and took a shower, washing my shorts and panties in the shower. Cleaned my skanky whitish socks and two t-shirts in the sink out back. Afterwards, lunch with Ana and her mom (she was raving about the coffee shops in the states, how she could lounge there for hours in cozy chairs and no one shooed her out) Beans and rice, steamed squash and some kink of pepper, leftover meat (couldn’t stand to even look at it actually) and coke.

Weighed the produce to deliver in the morning. Will stamp the egg cartons tomorrow and load up the car. I am encouraging Dario to bring the remaining produce in the car and sell it as he drops things off. No sense having it sit around and rot. The papaya and little tomatoes won’t keep until the next delivery on Thursday.

Now I am at the office, with Preta the black dog, writing and checking emails. Will clean out the bunker room for Ian afterwards.

We are keeping a tally of my chores for the licensing of the farm. Not sure but I believe they are receiving a grant to have volunteers..that would be cool. I am also documenting the hours I spend on the bookkeeping and organizing for the other volunteers. We decided to make a list of chores so everyone could sign up when they arrive. A lot of upkeep involved.

About the dump part in the title.....if you don't already know..when you are a vegetarian your poop floats...so, I could very well be spending far too much time in the bathroom off the verandah. I do not always remember that I cannot flush the tp. The plumbing cannot handle it. Also, the toilet doesn't always work very well. It does not pull everything out so there could be a lot of flushing involved. Usually I end up laughing like a hyena or being completely frustrated with the process. Reminds me of the Big Bob story by David Sadaris.

Really would rather sit and read a bit but…gotta get back to work!

this isn't Kansas

Last night the pvc pipe that connects to the hot water tank burst. Guess it was from the overworked wood burning stove. Had it going all day since Yago and Eva’s three loads of laundry had to dry. Clothes draped everywhere in the kitchen and livingroom. The wire clothes rack framed the edges. Had to cook around the jeans, towels, blouses and t-shirts (many had English words across the breast.) Ran to the bar down the road to get flour and sugar. Bought some popcorn to make over the fire. Told everyone about the popcorn served at The Rose Theatre. Tins of different toppings loaded on the counter next to the service bar-soy sauce, garlic salt, pepper, blended spices, parmesan cheese, etc. Not sure I got my point across, per usual. 

This morning after a fried green banana and coffee breakfast, sat at the kitchen table, creating lists of projects to complete, taking advantage of another volunteer who arrives tomorrow afternoon. Ian is American as well and will have to stay in the “bunkers.” I am fortunate to be the first volunteer (yeah!) and staying for several months so I will remain in the main house.

Ana’s mom arrived while we were playing cards (I understood most of the rules by the time we finished the first go-‘round.) She had a carload of supplies and food for the gang. Pounds of fresh meat, veggies, bread and beer. She was introduced as “Mae” so I don’t know her name. More often than not, if it is an unfamiliar name or a nickname, I cannot remember one person’s name from the next.

I threw squash in the oven with the pan of meat and linguisa fried on the wood burning stove, manioc steamed in the adjacent pot while beans bubbled on the third burner. As each dish finished cooking, a loaded plate sat on the edge of the stove and everyone grabbed pieces to stand and eat. The meat came out and we all sat at the table to gobble it down. As each day passes, I can grasp more and interject a sentence or two. They probably mimic me, when I finish my story they laugh. Perhaps they didn’t understand what I said but they are polite and laugh along….

We cleaned the house in a flurry. Since the dog caught a rodent and had strewn guts and tail and head about, used the hose to spray down the verandah then scrub with a broom and squeegee. Toss a dry rag over the top of the squeegee and we’re done. The dogs run from the hose, just like Tyrus at home! Made me miss him a lot.

Watched a German film with Portuguese subtitles so I got the gist of most of it. Can’t recall the title but it was a black and white film some of which took place in NY. I think it was good! Some of us dozed and ate more meat (I tasted the linguisa but not the hunk of meat, still not very appealing to me.)

June bugs are zooming around the office area as I type…ugh! Stick to my hair, jacket and make that awful buzzing noise. Reminds me of when I was a Girl Scout (didn’t collect many badges) and at camp a girl with waist-length hair had June bugs stuck in her hair. She screamed and cried until the counselors were able to detach the buggers.

So, not much to share this evening but I didn’t want to leave all of you hanging.