Revived

Last semester I started getting in the bad habit of skipping class again. If I didn't want to go, it wasn't really hard to talk myself out of going. January has been such a crazy month with getting prepared for my trip to Honduras, another new semester starting, with a full time internship and a bunch of other activities. While the trip to Honduras was not a slow-paced adventure, I believe it sparked something in me again. 

I was so fortunate that I didn't have much for traveller's issues while I was in Honduras. I guess my system just felt the need to wait until I got home to officially meltdown. Yikes, a very upset tummy amongst other things. I realize that not all my readers are nurses so I will spare you the gory details. I ended up missing classes on Monday. One, I felt like it was too cold to be travelling for class (-16). Second, I couldn't be without the bathroom for more than 8-10 minutes at a time. I truly missed classes for being ill. That's kind of a first for me in a long time. Usually the issue has been a lack of interest in going to feeling too tired to make the drive. 

Tuesday was my first day back at my internship. I certainly received a warm return which was nice. I had only been there for a few days before I was gone for my trip. There were lots of new faces which I think I am happy for since I am working on whether to self-disclose my recovery status or not. I have a fresh group to start with and at this point, I am not going to say much about it. I think I am going to try to play the other side of not disclosing to see how that feels. Last semester, I was very open about my recovery status and it felt pretty natural with the group members to do as much. I have a different set of clients now with different needs, so it is a work in progress.

For the past few days, it has not been a chore to get out of bed. Thank God! I think being on a  pretty regimented schedule in Honduras help me to get things back in line. My sleep patterns get to be so crazy sometimes. I will take a nap during the day and then I will be up half the night. Then I don't want to get up in the morning because I finally fell back asleep just a few hours before. That was the rut I had gotten myself into last semester and it was starting to go that way again until this trip. Besides getting my sleep regulated, I think being around people was very beneficial to me. I am around people quite a bit, but the context with these people and what we were doing together was so incredibly different than any other group travel I have experienced. I was truly blessed with so many good travel companions and an excellent roommate. Something about that just gave me a breath of new life this week. 

When I got down to Honduras, I was paying particular attention to my reaction to the situation of poverty around there. The city that we were staying in was quite nice, but obviously dangerous since our hotel has iron rod fencing on every window and an armed guard at the gate. This was a pretty standard affair down there. When we got to the village where the church was located, that is when the poverty and living conditions were more apparent. The first thing I noticed where all the dogs roaming the streets. They were malnourished, skinny and sickly. Not to make light of it, but it was like living in the ASPCA/Sarah McGaughlin commercials.  That suffering was nearly unbearable to me. I know that I was not the only one that felt that way in the group. I have to admit I really struggled with that. Then, when we started going around and talking with the town people about the Healthfair that same day, the living situations became more apparent. There is very limited clean water available to the people. There are several generations living together in a 2 or 3 room home. There was a serious lack of access to medical care and supplies. There was a man that we met whose blood pressure was sky high and he knew it. He was prescribed medication. Because there is so much corruption in the flow of medications there, he was unable to afford to get the medication. $4 a month is a lot when monthly income is $30. I watched him walk out of the center and knew that it was only a matter of time before he will die of a stroke. My wish for him is that the stroke takes him and he doesn't have to linger in a debilitated state for years and years. It's hard to watch another human, a fellow man, walk away and have an idea of his fate. it reminded me of a telephone call I made to a liver transplant inquiry a few months ago, "I am sorry, we are not going to be able to help your husband. Protocol dictates that he must have at least 6 months of sobriety before he is eligible to be CONSIDERED to be on the list." When I hung up with her, I knew, based on the medical records in my hand, that patient was only going to be alive for 2-3 more days. He was terminal and I delivered the final stamp of rejection for other options except death. 

These situations, ladies and gentleman, are some of the powerless moments in my life. I yearn and desire to do something about this situation. I want to smuggle blood pressure pills into Honduras, I want to protest the rules and regulation of transplant, I want to feed the animals. Yet, I cannot. No matter how much I want to help, I cannot. When I see my fellow alcoholic relapse and is working his or her way towards death, I can only say what I have to say. I cannot make someone get better. I cannot force a government to act for the people. I cannot lock a person in the basement and keep them sober. So, why did I not fall apart the way I had expected to? I mean, I was really expecting a serious mental breakdown at one point. I had spent the previous few months asking about this and what I should do WHEN it happened, not if. I contemplated if we were too busy to have the time to process that emotion. So I gave it a day or two to sink in after I got home. Nope, still no breakdown. Certainly, I feel sad and bad about these situations. However, I did what I could to help and the rest just has to be turned over to my Higher Power. "I turn my will and life over to God as I understood Him" This certainly means these situations as well. Instead of internalizing what I could not do about these situations, it has morphed itself into a revitalization in me of what I can so. I feel recommitted to drug and alcohol counseling. I was losing some of passion for the area, wondering if I was making myself a one dimensional human being who can only talk about recovery and nothing else. I talked about because of a passion and deep in my heart, I believe God has something really big for me in this field. I don't know what that is, but I just want to be able to sit patiently and wait for the call without freaking out every day.  I am not the most patient human being and being a former addict, one of our more fine personality traits is instant gratification. I think this has been part of my restlessness in the past 3 or so months. I want school to be done. I want the next big adventure to start.....I want I want I want....."I turn my will and life over to God....". Needs to be done.

What I took away from this trip, very deeply in my heart, was a desire to help closer to home. I can't say that I haven't seen some of these same conditions in the US. I see people everyday who can't afford medications or get access to medical care. I have made visits to shut ins in America. I have seen mother struggle to feed and clothe their children. I have seen children drop out of school to support their families. All of this is well and alive (unfortunately) in America as well. I feel empowered to make changes close to home. I have been looking at some different resources in the metro area that are doing outreach and focusing on helping the mentally ill or homeless. I feel like I can be of service. Mind you, I probably won't start volunteering just yet, but I have a stronger vision of what I want to see happen in the community around me. 

Hugs,
J

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