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Ever wonder how much my right testicle is worth? Me neither, but here’s the answer:

Honestly, I really don’t even know where to begin with the story of this week, but I guess I’ll go with a short description. I got sick on Monday, then got flown out of Coban in a helicopter and spent the week in the hospital for an infection in one of my testicles (if you think this is gross, I’d stop reading now). Bottom line is, I’m almost back to normal and I can’t wait to have all this behind me. Here’s the story:

I spent last weekend in Antigua after having been in Cobán for a good two months (mostly in good health). After coming back on Sunday, I woke up Monday morning, got out of bed and all of a sudden felt like someone had just drop-kicked me in the nut. It was awful, but the pain was confounded by the dilemma of how to remedy the situation. I got back in bed and the pain went away. I thought, “Maybe if I just lay here awhile, it’ll go away. It’s just a rush of blood at the wrong moment or something, right?” Wrong. I tried to get up to make breakfast and about threw up from the pain. Laying down, things were totally normal, but as soon as I got up, the invisible man in the room would be waiting with his steel-tipped boot to send me right back down. So I got back in bed and tried not to think about getting up or really addressing the situation.

However, while I was in bed, I had plenty of time to think over the worst-case scenarios. You can imagine what that might be like, so I finally got the courage to call the Peace Corps. I practiced the line a few times so as to not sound horribly awkward. It came out surprisingly easy, and the nurse had me go right to the hospital. Apparently, the symptoms I described meant I could have a contorted testicle (i.e. tubes in a knot) and without treatment in a couple hours, I could lose it. Needless to say, I got my ass to the hospital regardless of the pain. The Coban doctor didn’t believe it to be contorted, but had no ultrasound to rule it out. Essentially, he gave what would later be the right diagnosis, but we didn’t know at the moment. So, not being able to rule out a contortion and potentially being an hour away from a Lance Armstrong situation, Peace Corps had to protect against the worst-case scenario.

The doctor told me it was unlikely I was going to lose anything, but that I needed to get to the airport because a helicopter was on its way. I would pinpoint this as the moment where things went from understandable and normal, to “Holy shit they’re sending a @#$% helicopter!” It was all very strange.

So, I busted it over to the airport, which is nothing more than a dirt road in a big field. It’s not the kind of place you expect planes or helicopters to actually land in. There were kids playing soccer on the runway and construction workers eating lunch. They were clearly not expecting any arrivals soon. Moreover, there was lightning everywhere and a big storm approaching. I still couldn’t believe that a helicopter was actually coming, and I imagined that if it did, there would be some awful disaster with the storm or that the chopper would at least land on the kids’ dog or something.

It started to rain and then out of nowhere, there was a helicopter. I hopped in, laid on the gurney, and when I looked out the window, we were already out of Cobán and above the storm. At this point, I pretty much trusted what the Coban doctor told me, so I felt like it was a big overreaction. A couple hours earlier, I had thought I was just going to begin another normal week, and there I was on a gurney in a helicopter cutting through the mountains.

The ride took about 30 minutes (as opposed to the normal five hours it takes by bus) and we landed in the international airport. There was an ambulance on the tarmac and I made it to the hospital in another 15 minutes. There were 3 doctors waiting and they got me an ultrasound and ruled out the contortion, thank God. At that point, it was just strange. I had at least 10 different people “probing” me and I was getting wheeled all over the place. I think I’d just stopped trying to understand it all and just let the day run its course. By the end of it all, the doctors figured out that it was a urinary tract infection gone awry, not a contortion. However, I was glad to be in the capital as the infection did end up getting somewhat serious.

I spent the next few days in the hospital in total bed rest and until they let me out on Thursday. I had visitors and spent a lot of time on the phone, so it wasn’t such a bad deal. The Peace Corps med staff really pulled out all the stops, so I felt pretty comfortable. Now, I’m back in Antigua where they’re having me stay until I’m cleared for travel. The infection is just about gone, but tomorrow I’ve gotta get a final clearance by the doctor in the capital. It will be good to have this all be nothing more than a long story.

So, that’s the week news. On a different and far less dramatic note, here are some pics of my new apartment where I hope to be tomorrow night.

I live on the second floor.