*Preface; I’m fine I was only kind of dying*
What started as a trek to the peak of a mountain in the Himalayas to spend time encouraging like-minded people in a hut. Quickly became a race against time and my own body.
Not gonna lie, looking back I regret complaining about the climb up the mountain. We trekked for two hours to meet with some people to encourage their faith, pray for them, and eat together. Coming down the mountain we were stopped to pray for a partially paralyzed man and an elderly lady. That was cool. As our descent progressed we came upon a Catholic Church/trade school and almost ready to use clinic. The Father of the church offered us mango juice boxes and good company. We talked about his sewing classes and the up coming semester. Looking out we had a perfect view of the gorgeous mountain ranges and I spotted a super cute puppy that looked in need of some loving. I walked around the building to the back where the dog was leashed up and proceeded to enjoy myself throughly by all the love I was being lavished with. My heart for animals was pretty big before I left home but as we’ve country hopped it’s only gotten bigger. I love loving on the strays, feeding them, and petting them whenever I can. That day was no different. As I was looking out at the incredible scene God painted just for me, petting the friendliest puppy I’ve met so far, my arm started itching and burning.
I looked down and a welp popped up and I thought I just gotten bit by something. But shortly after I noticed the spot I realized it wasn’t a bug bite.
My entire right arm broke out into a red blistery rash that welled up and burned. I stop petting the dog, showed my Ministry host what was happening then went to wash my arm. Now y’all, I’m not allergic to anything. The worst that’s happened to me has been heat/stress hives and anaphylactic shock due to being given too much chemotherapy at one time. So you can imagine my slight panic when after washing my right arm the blistery, ugly, flames of death spread to my left arm and up my neck. I turned and looked at my crew for the day (Two of my teammates, Christa & Raina, My translator and the pastor we were working with that week) and saw their eyes turn into the size of disco balls as they quickly hurried me into the unopened clinic next door. Raina is a Physicians Assistant at home and Christa is a nurse. So naturally I couldn’t have been in better care when a weird Nepali plague struck.
As Raina and Christa start rummaging through the clinic we realized they have NO Benedryll. No steriods. No oral medication or anything for Iv’s. All they had available was a bunch of random creams written in a language we didn’t know in a room full of people who didn’t know what they were even if they could read it. My flaming rash of hell rapidly spread from my neck all the way down my torso and to the tops of my thighs. Go big or go home am i right?? They immediately started opening every cream and smearing them on different parts of my body. I was a patchwork quilt of ointment. What a sight to behold. As they were rubbing something on my stomach my chest started getting really tight and breathing started to become really difficult. Ya girl was going anaphylactic.
We immediately started toward the bottom on the mountain which we were told was “near”. My near and their near are two totally different near’s. My body kicked into survival mode and I trucked down the mountain as fast I could towards our home for the next 45 minutes. We slightly ran, we slid, I almost passed out a few times, and I cut my foot but we were on a mission. With a Chaco full of blood and a straw for airways we finally made it to the church we were staying at where my body finally caught up to me and I collapsed.
My body was on fire, I was covered in blisters, and I couldn’t breathe. The only thought I could come up with was “If I’m dying at least I got to pet a really cute dog beforehand”
Two Benedryll’s down, an epi pen close by to stab me with for when I passed out, and a panicked hunt for the moto keys later I’m groggily on the back of a tiny motorcycle squished between Reina and our Pastor.
Raina was a trooper, she 1) had to run down a mountain which is her least favorite thing in world 2) she barely was on the back of a moto talking to a drugged up itchy chick 3) she legit almost punched a nurse and took over because the hospital was so bad. This girl talked to me the entire 30 minutes to the hospital so I wouldn’t pass out (can you imagine passing out while riding a motorcycle… yowza). When we got to the scariest excuse for a hospital I’ve ever seen (west Africa was better than this) she fought tooth and nail to make sure I got the best care. The sheets on all the beds were covered in blood stains. Some old, most not. The front door was a rolling garage door and every IV pole was basically rust. I can’t say much because Nepal has suffered a lot in the past few years so this is the best the little mountain town had to offer.
Questionable things were done at that hospital and I’m pleased to tell you that I will not be returning. After a massive injection of steriods, another double dose of antihistamines, 45 minutes of being monitored by someone who looked like they just hated my face (she probably did), I got told I could leave. Fit as a fiddle…. or is it whistle… ANYWAYS I’m good.
I genuinely will never eat mangos again, or drink it’s juice, or travel anywhere without Benedryll.
Im honestly so impressed by the human body and how you can will it to not do something when you’re in a dire situation. That’s pretty neat. I’m thankful I’m on a team with level headed medical masterminds who will drop what their carrying and brace themselves for me to pass out and look me dead in the eyes and tell me “yeah it’s pretty bad” for my peace of mind. I’m thankful for ministry hosts who deeply care about my well being. And I’m thankful that the good Lord let me keep breathing.
CHEERS TO BENEDRYLL COCKTAILS AND PARENTS WHO DONT FREAK OUT WHEN YOURE DYING!
Xx M
