It seems there is always something tragic happening to me
in Kenya. (smile). The first time I was here I
ended up having a minor surgery in a shady looking hospital out of twilight
zone. Now, I get on an overcrowded
matatu with Paul to have an early afternoon out with the boys, and I wind up
dislocating my knee. I mean it seriously
POPPED COMPLETELY OUT OF SOCKET. I was
terrified out of my mind and had to think very quickly since I was standing up
and the bus was moving crazily down the road. I put both hands on my out of place leg and quickly snapped it into the
place I thought it should be in and sat right down. PAINFUL!!! I must not have put it in the right place. It hurt like hades but I had to keep
moving. It’s not like I could stop the
matatu and say, “Hey can you take me to the hospital for an XRay?” Yeah right! So, I just kept going.
When it
came for our stop I prayed that I’d be able to walk because the shape my leg
seemed to be in, I wasn’t for sure. I
stood up to walk and could barely move but I forced my left leg to move with my
right off the bus. “Paul, this is not
good. Something is wrong,” I forced
tears back trying to be strong. “It will
be okay sister,” he assured me. “Just keep
moving it.” So, the more I walked the
more it appeared to feel better but by the end of the night I had troubles even
squatting to use the hole.
After a shower, Mama massaged ointment on my knee and
wrapped it. It’s nice to live with a
nurse. I can walk and my knee is
starting to feel better but I’m still experiencing some pain.
All of this happened the morning before I was to speak atthe school. I was almost thinking of
staying at home due to the pain but I’m glad I went for a young man decided to
enter into a relationship with Jesus.
