Wakala.

So. Funny story. Sunday morning it was a hot hot day in Managua. But this being Halloween, it decides that today would be a good day to sprain my ankle. Great. So not a big deal right? Just mozy along, I’ve twisted ankles before in basketball and lacrosse. Just ice that and it’ll be good in a couple days. A couple days go by. My foot is bruising worse than I’ve ever seen it. My host family decides going to the doctor would be a good thing. I finally give in on Wednesday night after class. We go to the ER, the only thing open at 930ish at night. Get there and have to wait a little bit. Get called in and I limp over by myself. (Just so you know, everything from here on out is communicated in Spanish.)

The very short nurse takes my blood pressure and measures my height (a ridiculous scenario in and of itself). She asks which ankle, how I did it, if it hurts, if I’ve been taking pain meds (right, tripped, kind of, not really). She leads me to a waiting room. I sit. The doctor comes in and starts speaking rapidly. He must have seen the confused look on my face and slows down. I take off my shoe and the wrap and he tells me it’s really swollen and that I need an X-ray. Awesome. So I’m laughing as another doctor reels in a wheelchair. I hop into it and go to the X-ray room. I hop on the table, get asked if I’m pregnant and then BAM they take the X-ray. Without any covering. Is that normal? I feel like that’s kind of bad… I let it go to being in Nicaragua. Moving on.

X-ray that I got to take home..!

Get the X-ray and the Dr. tells me its FRACTURED. Yes. Fractured. As in almost broken. How did I manage to fracture my fibula in Nicaragua by falling and not during the 9+years I played sports? Good question, & I don’t know either. So, he puts a soft cast on my foot/ankle/lower calf that I have to wear until next Wednesday. And then he tells me I need crutches for a month. Awesome.

Things lost in translation:

  • If I need to go back for a check up. This would be a good thing to know.
  • Why they didn’t actually give me crutches at the hospital.
  • Me laughing the whole time at the ridiculousness of my situation (on their part..I got some weird looks)
  • What was actually hurt. I had to look it up when I get home. They really should offer Spanish medical terminology. I had no idea what was going on half the time.

This whole situation is a big WAKALA. Which is an expression that symbolizes distaste, grossness, blah, etc. So much for learning how to surf. But at least I’ve had my first experience in a hospital in a developing country… I feel like with what I want to do this might be good knowledge to have. Always looking for those highlights.

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One thought on “Wakala.

  1. Pingback: Wakala. | Una Suca Abroad | Today Headlines

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