My squad left the Dominican Republic hopped on an airplane caught a connecting flight in Miami (we were there just long enough for me to get homesick), and flew for 6 hours to Bolivia. Six hours at high altitude, in the middle seat, affects your body… and your mind. We flew into La Paz so there was no decline; we were flying in mid air and then we stopped. My legs felt weird from the flight and as soon as we got off the plane and traversed the tarmac, I knew something was wrong. My guts felt like they were in a spin cycle. My head was fuzzy and I was so thirsty.
Next, the airport employees guided us into lines to go through customs and purchase visas. My condition became steadily worse as we made our way through the line, shouldered our baggage, spotted our contact, loaded up, and then drove a 1000 more feet into the heavens to get to our destination. Now at a height of around 13,500 feet in El Alto, we arrived at Mission Adulam around 9 in the morning and quickly settled in for some much needed rest. I slept most of the morning and when my team woke me up to go with them for lunch, I couldn’t. When I finally managed to get up, it was dark outside, my head pounded with dehydration, my guts were still churning within me and all we had to drink was hot water that had been boiled to clean it. After a few sips and trying a few spoonfuls of chicken broth, the vomiting ensued. I spent the next couple of hours running from the couch to the restroom, panting the whole way…because in El Alto, Bolivia, every movement makes you out of breath.
My team leader, Lydia, decided that I should go to the clinic, so she fearlessly hunted down one of our ministry hosts and arranged for them to take me to a clinic. My friend Sandra came along as a translator and of course for emotional support. We arrived at the clinic to find a scene from… (Name your favorite horror flick)…there was a trail of blood from the front steps all the way down the hall to the examination room; the nurse’s uniform was covered in blood (these were things that were relayed to me as I was not in a state of mind to be very observant). She smiled sweetly and diagnosed me right away with altitude sickness and the doctor confirmed that my intestines were swollen due to the altitude. They prescribed a few medicines, put me on oxygen for 30 minutes, and told me to take it easy for few days. While I was breathing in the oxygen, our driver came and called my friend Sandra out of the room. She came back to report that Lydia had vomited all over the waiting room floor…What a disastrous first day!
What a mess I was, sick both physically and homesick, feeling the effects of being on top of the world and way too many miles away from people that love me and know how to take care of me.
“Dear Lord what are you doing here? What is your plan in all this? I think I’m done with this race…”
