After an incredible month spent in Huaticocha, my teammate Sam and I left on Wednesday night to head to Quito so I could have my knee checked out. Although the swelling and such had gone down in my knee, I still felt like it would be a good idea to have it checked out with an MRI before heading to Peru on Monday. I actually had an appointment last week but a bridge happened to be “out” (who knows what that actually means) and the road to Quito was blocked so I had to postpone my appointment. I called Gustavo again and he arranged for an appointment for me on Thursday morning. Gustavo is the president of IncaLink in Ecuador, the ministry that has set up all of our contacts this month. We took the overnight bus and arrived in Quito around 4am and took a taxi to Gustavo’s house to stay for the night.
The next morning I woke up and was greeted by the smell of a hot breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, exotic fruits, and coffee prepared by Gustavo’s Mom. I also took the first hot shower I have had in over a month (the first real shower, actually, if you don’t include the bucket showers in Huaticocha). Feeling refreshed, we headed to the doctor. A few minutes after we had left I realized in the rush to get out the door I had left my phone at Gustavo’s house. Gustavo said it was ok and gave me his numbers so I could call him from a pay phone after the appointment was over. Gustavo dropped me off at a little clinic and said “see ya in a little while!” and I was on my own. Little did I realize how difficult this trip to the doctor was going to end up being…
I went in to the clinic and told them my name and that I had an appointment. Well, apparently I didn’t have an appointment like I thought I did, or maybe there had been some kindof mixup. Anyways, I ended up talking to a doctor who, in broken English, told me that there was nothing that could be done there for my knee and that I would need to head to the hospital to try and get an appointment there for an MRI. Since I was leaving on Monday for Peru, I would also have to get the results and a meeting with an orthopedic surgeon that same day. The chances of this were slim, but having traveled 5 hours to Quito to get my knee checked out, I figured I’d give it a shot. The doctor drew a map to the hospital on a napkin for me (remember, I’m in the middle of Quito and have no idea where I am and no phone), and I walk about a mile and luckily find the hospital without issue. I ask the lady at the radiology desk if I can schedule an appointment. At least I hope I did, I could have said anything to her, knowing my Spanish. She said that nothing was available until Wednesday. Ugh, seriously??
I have no phone, no appointment, Gustavo has no idea where I am, I’m at a random hospital in Quito, and I have only $4 on me. I was a bit frustrated, to say the least. Getting worked up about it wouldn’t do me any good, so I knew I had to just keep my cool, think it through, say a prayer of protection, and figure out what to do. I found a pay phone, but it was out of service. I went up to the main desk of the hospital and asked the confused lady if I could use her phone. Thankfully, she said yes and I called Gustavo. No answer. I went out front and just sat down on the sidewalk outside, hoping Gustavo’s car my stroll on by for some reason. Who am I kidding? About half an hour later I went back in and asked the lady again if I could use her phone. Again, she said yes, although she seemed a bit annoyed. This time Gustavo answered. I explained the situation to him, and he said he would be there to pick me up. I forgot to ask how long it would be, and it was a good 2 hours later before I finally saw his white suv arrive.
Still not having gotten anywhere, we decided to try yet another hospital. This one seemed to be the place we should have started at from the beginning; it was an extremely nice, very modern, American looking hospital with very modern technology. Still, we had to figure out how to cram in an MRI, get the results, and talk to an orthopedic surgeon all in a few hours. We started out with the emergency wing and had a doctor sign a form approving an MRI for me. We went to the MRI center and made an appointment for 2:30 (it was 1:30 at this time). We went and scheduled an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon for 3:45. And just for kicks, we threw in an x-ray before my MRI, just to be safe. Wow, God sure showed us some favor in getting all of this crammed in to 3 hours on such short notice!
I had the x-ray’s taken, followed by the MRI, which was an obnoxious experience with all the loud noises of the machine screaming in my ears. After the MRI, we went to see the orthopedic surgeion, Dr. Ramos. The MRI was supposed to take until Monday to get developed, but somehow Dr. Ramos was able to access them via the internet less than 30 minutes after the MRI was finished and after he had finished examining my knee. The MRI confirmed for him what he had concluded from his examination of my knee: torn ACL.
Wow. Not the news I wanted to hear. Especially being only one month in to an 11 month trip. I have torn both of my ACL’s in the past and know how long the healing process is following the surgery to repair it. I told Dr. Ramos the circumstances of my trip and and asked what he thought I should do. He basically said that currently an operation is not an emergency and that I could probably put it off until I got home. I could get a knee brace to stabilize it and for the most part should be fine, aside from not being able to play sports or do anything too strenuous. However, I would be risking long term damage were I to injure it further.
I was facing quite a dilemma. Go home and have surgery and hopefully rejoin the race in a month or two, assuming everything went perfectly with the surgery and recovery? Have surgery in Ecuador and just catch up with my team later? Leave the race, go home and have surgery, and try and go on a later race or even none at all? Or, stick it out, stay on the Race, and just be extra careful for the next 11 months. None of the options sounded particularly appealing, but after talking with my parents, after much thought and prayer, I have decided to stay.
What does this mean for me now? I know am called to this squad, to this route, and to this team. This is exactly where I am supposed to be. Some changes will have to happen. I won’t be able to play sports, which is one of my favorite types of ministry, and I will have to slow down and be much more cautious in the coming months. I think this is God’s way of showing me that I have to let Him completely have control. I am going to be able to pursue different means of ministry, aside from sports, which I have always been most comfortable with. I am going to learn how to lead my team in a new way, since I will not always be able to run out in front and carry the heaviest bricks, climb the steepest hill, or run the fastest. I knew this trip was about molding me in to who God wants me to be, and it has already begun! It is going to be a challenge, and definitely won’t be easy. I am going to have to make sacrifices. Yet, even with this new and fresh outlook on this trip, I am excited and can’t wait for God to continue to work in new and awesome ways!
