Dr. Ivan was not pleased to see us. We told him about the vomiting, and he looked very concerned. “Did you give us stool sample when you left last time?” he demanded. “No,” I said, “I hadn’t eaten enough to produce a stool sample. I’ve only pooped three times this entire month.” He frowned. Bobbi Jo explained that I hadn’t pooped at all since I left the hospital. “That’s six days!” he shouted, “This will not do. We will help you.” An IV was ordered and I sat there on the bed for a while with Bobbi Jo. Jeff called the squad leaders from the lobby. Dr. Ivan was convinced I had a parasite.
An impossibly tiny Cambodian nurse came in and said, “These are for you.” I smiled. I had no idea what they were. She asked, “Do you want assistance or would you like to do it on your own?” I smiled again. “Excuse me?” I asked. “This,” she explained, “goes in your behind.” She pulled the curtain and explained to Bobbi Jo and I how to apply the very Asian enema, and I reluctantly told her I would try to do it on my own, and that I would call for help if necessary.
Bobbi Jo came with me into the bathroom, and I looked at her with dread. I had an IV in one hand so that made it pretty much immobile. My right hand was available for the deed, but it would have been close to impossible to apply by myself. I looked at Bobbi Jo, and whispered with uncertainty, “Bobbi, how am I going to do this?” Nervous laughter erupted. An awkward silence ensued.
“I went to school for it, Sarah. I don’t mind.” Bobbi Jo said.
“No. Absolutely not,” I said. “How will you ever look at me the same? I can’t believe this is our life right now.”
“It will not change my opinion of you in the least.” She reassured me.
It was then that I got the hilariously humiliating experience of a teammate, clad with gloves, applying medicine in a way that you wouldn’t wish on your least favorite person.
We didn’t even make it halfway through a whole one. The doctor had prescribed TWO of those suckers.
“I need a break,” I squeaked.
“You are forgetting to breathe,” she reminded me. I paced.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s not easy.”
She nodded, her smile full of understanding.
All of a sudden, God endowed his INCREDIBLE GRACE to both of us. I had to poop.
“Bobbi,” I yelled, “I have to poop! I think.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
“YEAH, I THINK SO.” I sat on the toilet.
She stood in front of me. We both laughed when we heard the plop.
“THANK YOU, JESUS!” She half-screamed.
Not only did Jesus give us poop, he gave us poop small enough to fit into the miniscule container that had been provided for us. I stood up and prepared myself to fish it out of the toilet. Without two hands, it proved next to impossible.
“I can do it,” she said again, “I really don’t mind.”
At this point, I believed her. I nodded and she put the gloves on. It was over in a matter of seconds, and we wrapped toilet paper around it so not everyone in the emergency room could see my business. For the record, this is not the recommended route to take in order to gain closeness with your teammates, but it was a catalyst for us. We laughed all the way out of the bathroom.
It was at that moment that I realized that Jesus knew exactly what was going to happen before it was going to happen and placed me on a team with a medical assistant who earnestly didn’t mind applying medicine rectally, and didn’t look at me any different after it happened. It was weird to tear up after something like that, but I did anyway. God had provided for me in a huge way, namely placing me on a team with someone as fearless as Bobbi Jo. We swore to each other that Jeff would never know, and that the world would never know, but the story proved too hilarious to be kept a secret. Alas, now you know, too. What I learned on an even deeper level, though, is that God protects and provides for His beloved children, even in ways they would never, ever anticipate in a million years.
Dr. Ivan explained that if the stool sample came back parasite positive, he would send me to see a specialist elsewhere in Phnom Penh. We were to report back in the morning at 8.
TO BE CONTINUED…
