Chapter 4
The Hospital
The hospital was crowded, very, very crowded. There were people lined up outside waiting in every shape of disrepair from bloody to snotty.
We were immediately shooed into the surgery room.
The surgery room was filthy. And I'm not being squeamish, I went to the hospital and Costa Rica and it was 10 times better than El Salvador. There was blood on the walls, gurneys, even the ceiling. It was nothing like ER. They had us both sit on two gurneys in a room of about five of them. On one of them was a tiny old man with no pants. On another was a younger guy, mid teens, who was very obviously dying of something and I hoped it wasn't contagious. The third was empty but covered with blood. The fourth had Vladimir and the fifth was all mine. I didn't see any leeches, but it wouldn't have surprised me.
While I was sitting there waiting to be seen, a girl came into the already crowded surgery room with her Grandmother. The grandmother balked at the sight of her gurney covered with blood so the girl touched (!) the blood and said "Esta seco." (It is dry.) Then the woman laid down on the gurney. I sat listening to the muffled groans and crying babies in the hospital Eventually, I listened as the girl, who was kinda hot, explained to the doctor what was wrong with her grandmother. This is when I learned something very valuable -- that I am passing along free of charge -- if you are in a 3rd world hospital and you hear the word "Amarillo" do NOT look in the direction that the sound came from. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, in a hospital that is "yellow" that you would ever want to see.
I had my wound scrubbed clean and the excess skin cut off after receiving a little bit of lidocaine. I didn't get any stitches because there wasn't anything to stitch together.
Then the press and the police started to arrive.
In the hospital, bleeding and smiling.
(This is a pdf)
"Paparazzi!"
After having my shotgun wounds scrubbed clean. I was in the hallway waiting for an x-ray with John and Vladimir. There were 3 newspapers and about 4 television stations covering the story. We were interviewed, filmed and photographed. The only actual coverage that we saw though was an article in La Presna. Although we were told that we were mentioned in the evening news -- a minor story about how sad it was that we were shot, having just arrived in the country.
We spent the next few days shuttling to different hospitals with Rodrigo, and having my wounds cleaned. And everywhere we went people knew us from the newspaper or TV coverage. We actually had to autograph a copy of the newspaper at our hotel.
We flew back as soon as possible, which wound up being Wednesday the 13th.
On Friday the 15th, I went to a hand surgeon who has explained to me that if I want feeling in my left pinky I am going to have to have surgery. So I am eagerly awaiting that, which has been scheduled for Sept 26. He told me that I would have to graft skin onto my palm. I am hoping that he uses skin without any hair or else I will have some serious explaining to do.
[These images are large and a little gross. They were taken 5 days after being shot.]
But Wait... The Saga Continues
The following information may make you squirm...
September 22nd, I went to an eye doctor. He pulled 5 more pieces of glass out of my eye. He seemed pretty good at it, though. They put some anesthetic drops in my eye and then, with a needle, scraped the pieces out of my cornea. I couold feel him tugging on my eyeball with the needle. It was gross.
September 23rd, I found three pieces of glass in my face. One in my forehead, one in my nose and one in my cheek. This accident is the gift that keeps on giving!
September 26th, Surgery went swimmingly. They opened up my hand after making sure, not once - or twice - but 4 times, that I hadn't eaten anything. They opened me up and found ... a badly bruised nerve. This is good news, meaning that I should be getting feeling back in my finger in a few weeks. Aside from that everything is going fine.
October 4th, I was supposed to go to a follow up appointment in Springfield VA, to get my stitches out (I think). Actually, they probably wanted to check up on everything but I am healing fine, no problems. Plus, I can take the stitches out myself. I've done it before. :)
November 15th, this time I pulled a piece of bullet out of my head.
March 08th, My right eye hasn't recovered it's vision completely (I mean it's good, but not back to where it was) and has begun to feel really dry and iritated. And I sometimes have the feeling that something is under my eyelid. The same feeling I had when there was glass in it the first time. I am going to go to another eye doctore. Something tells me there is more glass in my eye. (As a sidebar: I think it is kind of amusing that something in your eye feels like something under your eyelid. I don't know why.)
So what do you think? Send me an email.