My night was going to be filled with a going away party with some delicious American foods. I was to make spaghetti with Auntie Nazera and Auntie Tone (English spelling so y'all will know how to say it) then they would barbecue chicken downstairs while the party was going on. Making the spaghetti was no easy task, I could barely speak malay and the aunties could speak some English, but they were not fluent. We spent some time trying to get our message across, something I found incredibly frustrating. We used normal spaghetti sauce, then they added around a cup of extremely spicy chillies, beef, onions, and sausage. After it cooked together for a couple minutes, the aunties tasted it and then had me taste. The sauce was pretty delicious if a bit spicy, I would have enjoyed it had my insides not started burning like a furnace. We finished cooking, then they left and I meandered back into my room where I spent the next couple hours. I eventually began talking on the phone and otherwise communicating with my mom and friends. My mom and I talked about quite a few things, then Syamin knocked on my door and upon opening it said the party was starting downstairs. I wasn't feeling too well, but I got off the phone with my mom and went down. I ate some plain noodles with butter and salt-one of my favorites! I probably would have eaten the sauce anyway had there not been chillies in it, or if I hadn't tried it earlier and felt my stomach explode in pain. I ate on one of the mats and then checked something on my iPod (I know, I know, incredibly rude! ...but everyone was really into talking to everyone else so...). I got up and went around a couple times, one time getting ice. Finally, Auntie Ipah told me I could go upstairs because they were probably going to be a while.
I went upstairs, miserable. My stomach was on fire and I just wanted to sit and cry. I finally decided I wanted to talk to my mom while I sat there. We talked for awhile, I told her about my stomach issues and she tried to help as best as she possibly could. I supposed it was simply the acid reflux I had developed a couple weeks before; however, while I did indeed have acid reflux, upon further investigation, it appeared I was also having problems with my appendix. My mom was actually the one to discover this horrifying possibility. After talking to Auntie, we decided I would go to the doctor on Saturday and then, if need be (although I was highly against this) the hospital. My mom also suggested a harsh colon cleanse where one abstains from all solid forms of nourishment. While the cleanse would be somewhat extreme, I really wasn't fond of the prospect of having surgery. I went to bed that night, in pure pain, hoping beyond hope the cleanse would work and the pain would stop.
I slept fitfully at first, but finally found rest. The next morning I came to the amazing realization all my pain was gone! It was a beautiful Saturday morning and I didn't feel like I was going to die, or at least cry from pain! It was an amazing relief. I texted my mom and she quickly informed me that Rev. Peter Ndamba, or "Brother Peter" as I call him, had been praying for me, and that God had probably healed me! I felt like everything had clicked into place and I was thrilled to be well. I decided I would go ahead with the liquid diet for a couple of days until I was sure I was better. This also had the nice effect of deterring the acid reflux- if you don't really eat anything, it's not nearly as bad. Saturday finished nothing like it had begun. I was thrilled my appendix-related pain was gone, however, my body still needed to heal, and it did so by causing me to sleep all day. I woke up at 8, next thing I knew it was 3:30, then again, the next thing I knew it was after 8 in the evening. I spoke with my mom for a little then I fell back to sleep and it was Sunday.
Sunday morning, I arose around eight (see a pattern?) and began to get ready to go to church. I got completely ready before realizing I did not have near enough strength to go to church. I was deeply saddened as that day would be the last Sunday I would be able to go to church. I decided to "grin and bear it" (to borrow the colloquialism) and just try to get better. I slept the rest of the day excepting a bit here and there where I made I'm-clearly-out-of-it remarks. I ended up trashing my already messy room in an effort to find objects I continually lost! I couldn't keep a thought long enough to remember anything! It was frustrating. I finally went back to bed and thought about my mom coming in just a few days. I fully realized she would be leaving in three days, so I needed to get my act together and get everything done. This meant, getting ready to move out.
Moving out of a room you have lived in for almost six months is not easy! I looked around the room sleepily and tried to figure out where to begin. I still felt unwell and so managing to force myself to get anything done would be considered an accomplishment. I finally made myself a cup of 4in1 coffee, or "pink coffee" as I like to call it because of the pink ribbon on the package. I started working around the room, sorting what I was bringing to KL from the stuff I was bringing home and the trash. I worked almost non-stop for around five hours, accomplishing quite a bit. I felt proud of myself. Now, I am almost completely packed for KL and there are just a few more things around the room that still need to be done so I'll be completely ready to move out of this room for good. Those things can be done tomorrow, or Wednesday, or even Thursday. I will do my best to keep you updated!
Happy fourth of July y'all!!!
(Yes, I did draw that flag myself using "paintbrush." I'm sorry if it is incorrect in anyway.)
I went upstairs, miserable. My stomach was on fire and I just wanted to sit and cry. I finally decided I wanted to talk to my mom while I sat there. We talked for awhile, I told her about my stomach issues and she tried to help as best as she possibly could. I supposed it was simply the acid reflux I had developed a couple weeks before; however, while I did indeed have acid reflux, upon further investigation, it appeared I was also having problems with my appendix. My mom was actually the one to discover this horrifying possibility. After talking to Auntie, we decided I would go to the doctor on Saturday and then, if need be (although I was highly against this) the hospital. My mom also suggested a harsh colon cleanse where one abstains from all solid forms of nourishment. While the cleanse would be somewhat extreme, I really wasn't fond of the prospect of having surgery. I went to bed that night, in pure pain, hoping beyond hope the cleanse would work and the pain would stop.
I slept fitfully at first, but finally found rest. The next morning I came to the amazing realization all my pain was gone! It was a beautiful Saturday morning and I didn't feel like I was going to die, or at least cry from pain! It was an amazing relief. I texted my mom and she quickly informed me that Rev. Peter Ndamba, or "Brother Peter" as I call him, had been praying for me, and that God had probably healed me! I felt like everything had clicked into place and I was thrilled to be well. I decided I would go ahead with the liquid diet for a couple of days until I was sure I was better. This also had the nice effect of deterring the acid reflux- if you don't really eat anything, it's not nearly as bad. Saturday finished nothing like it had begun. I was thrilled my appendix-related pain was gone, however, my body still needed to heal, and it did so by causing me to sleep all day. I woke up at 8, next thing I knew it was 3:30, then again, the next thing I knew it was after 8 in the evening. I spoke with my mom for a little then I fell back to sleep and it was Sunday.
Sunday morning, I arose around eight (see a pattern?) and began to get ready to go to church. I got completely ready before realizing I did not have near enough strength to go to church. I was deeply saddened as that day would be the last Sunday I would be able to go to church. I decided to "grin and bear it" (to borrow the colloquialism) and just try to get better. I slept the rest of the day excepting a bit here and there where I made I'm-clearly-out-of-it remarks. I ended up trashing my already messy room in an effort to find objects I continually lost! I couldn't keep a thought long enough to remember anything! It was frustrating. I finally went back to bed and thought about my mom coming in just a few days. I fully realized she would be leaving in three days, so I needed to get my act together and get everything done. This meant, getting ready to move out.
Moving out of a room you have lived in for almost six months is not easy! I looked around the room sleepily and tried to figure out where to begin. I still felt unwell and so managing to force myself to get anything done would be considered an accomplishment. I finally made myself a cup of 4in1 coffee, or "pink coffee" as I like to call it because of the pink ribbon on the package. I started working around the room, sorting what I was bringing to KL from the stuff I was bringing home and the trash. I worked almost non-stop for around five hours, accomplishing quite a bit. I felt proud of myself. Now, I am almost completely packed for KL and there are just a few more things around the room that still need to be done so I'll be completely ready to move out of this room for good. Those things can be done tomorrow, or Wednesday, or even Thursday. I will do my best to keep you updated!
Happy fourth of July y'all!!!
(Yes, I did draw that flag myself using "paintbrush." I'm sorry if it is incorrect in anyway.)
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