After the initial tester injection, the doctor and his entourage escorted me to one of the waiting area beds. In a gesture of hospitality, he put two sleeping pads and two pillows on the bed frame. I was humbled. He asked us what we were doing in Cambodia, and we explained that we were teaching English at Teen Challenge. He smiled and thanked us for showing such kindness to a poor country like Cambodia, and I was doubly humbled. I laid on the bed, smiling at Bobbi Jo, and occasionally dry-heaving. There was a family on the bed across from us who were fascinated by our very presence. White people aren’t very common this far out of Phnom Penh. They smiled at us, whispered to each other, then smiled some more.
We smiled back. Bobbi Jo and I just kept talking about how we couldn’t believe this was our life. When the doctor came back a few minutes later to inspect the injection, I had almost forgotten I was in rural Cambodia. The doctor checked my arm and smiled. “Okay,” he said, “We do injection.” His whole family was with him: the boy who had greeted us originally, the daughter who did the translating, and the two, small children with wide eyes who had been mesmerized by my midsection. My team leader, Jeff, Pastor Mop, and Samuel were about 5 feet away in the “waiting area.” “Slide left,” the doctor announced. I did. “No,” he said, frowning, “slide right.” I did. Still, the frown. “He means turn over,” said the daughter. It was in that instant that I realized the injection was destined for my butt.
“No,” I said. “There’s no way.” I looked at Bobbi Jo and whispered, “Bobbi Jo, there’s no way. Your husband, Pastor Mop, and Samuel are RIGHT THERE, and the doctor’s ENTIRE LINEAGE is here. No. I can’t.”
“Shh, it’s okay, Sarah. I think they can put it in your arm, baby. It’s okay. I’ll ask.” Her voice was soothing, so I stopped freaking out for a few seconds. She made some gestures and to my arm and asked the doctor whether or not they could just shoot me there. The doctor reluctantly agreed. He said, “It hurts there.” I smiled and pleaded with him, “It’s okay, really. I would prefer my arm. Please.”
After that was over, he gave me a rehydration package to pour into my water and a bag filled with medicine. He pulled each medication out one by one and gave me instructions. Take twice a day after meals. Take 3 times a day after meals, etc. I starting feeling a little loopy, thanks to the injection, so I was giggling at him quite a bit. Bobbi Jo sensed what was happening, I think, and resumed the responsibility of listening for me. As we left, we thanked the doctor, and Samuel asked me if I was hungry. I told him I was just sleepy. We rode in silence back to the compound. When we got back, I went to sleep, happy to have some relief.
TO BE CONTINUED…
