I peeled my forehead off the tray table in front of me, stretching my arms as far out into the inches of space I had to myself. My throat was sore, and my muscles achy. I credited it to the plane’s lack of moisture and my cramped middle seat.
Our 10 hour flight, 8 of which I had just spent sleeping and watching movies, was soaring somewhere over Italy. With only 2 hours to go, I mindlessly scrolled through the selection of films, bypassing many I had seen before and even more I had no intention of ever watching.
Giving up, bored, I got up to walk around and stretch my legs. Man, my neck was sore. My whole upper body, in fact. I tossed it off as probably having slept in a pretty poor position. ‘Give it time, and I’ll be fine.‘
After chatting with a few of my squad mates, I returned to my seat. Before I knew it, we were on the tarmac in Istanbul, Turkey, the opening scene to Bourne Identity just out of sight.
Off the plane, onto a bouncy set of stairs, a quick shuttle ride, up more stairs, through the gate, down the hall, and finally into a steamy room where we would wait for our next flight.
I went through my well-practiced routine of setting my bags in their place, taking out what I would need to last the next hour or so of our layover, a quick run to the bathroom, and returned to the gate. I collapsed into my chair. Pain had set in basically all over.
“Aubrey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired.”
“What’s wrong?”
A squad mate who can read me like a book insisted I didn’t look well.
Again, I blamed it on the plane’s dry air and not sleeping well on our previous flight.
“Is there anything I can do?” he offered.
I thought to myself, ‘I don’t know what you could do‘ but whispered a simple “no, thanks. I’m fine.”
I wasn’t fine.
Something they drilled into us both at Training Camp and Launch was “Don’t Be A Hero” when it comes to being sick or injured. If you’re sick, accept it, and go to the doctor, no matter how foreign it may seem compared to the office you’re used to at home. Not going isn’t worth your health or the lack of help you’ll be to your team’s ministry.
But I was in an airport terminal about to board yet another flight. And after that flight, I had a three-hour car ride ahead of me. Once we reached our home in Mrcajevci, Serbia, all I wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’ll feel better in the morning,’ I thought.
I felt worse. But something inside me kept convincing me it was nothing. The enemy had made a comfortable home inside my head back in that airport terminal, and he wasn’t leaving without a fight.
I mentioned my sore throat a few times throughout the day as we helped our ministry hosts into their new apartment. Each time, however, the enemy would just give a quick “ahem” and I would once again make it seem like no big deal.
Finally, around noon, our ministry host Julie looked at me and said “You need to lay down.”
“But I don’t want to not help!” Don’t be a hero, Aubrey.
“We’re okay, Aubrey, get some rest.” Don’t be a hero, Aubrey.
“But I’d feel bad!” Don’t be a hero, Aubrey.
It took Julie handing me two pillows, a blanket, and doing everything short of commanding me to sleep to get me to lay down.
Hours later, I awoke, still feeling awful. I wish I could say that’s all it took. At that point, it was pretty clear I wasn’t feeling well, but I don’t think it was obvious to what degree.
The next day I was the last to get up, and I slowly made my way to the car when Julie and Carl pulled up to take us to make more trips to move them into their apartment.
I felt like I was in cruise control. Without even thinking, I walked up the stairs to their second floor flat and laid down on the couch. Minutes later, everyone else followed. Julie offered me the bed in their spare bedroom, and without saying a word, I followed. She lowered the blinds and shut the door. I was in complete darkness, and just an hour after waking up for the day, I slept.
I slept for the next two days, only to be woken up for meals that I barely touched and for the rides to and from our home.
Somewhere in there, Julie checked my throat. I had strep. Not exactly how I pictured starting off my World Race.
(cont. in part 2)
