I often take my health (mi salud) for granted and in the past, have shrugged off ailments, both minor and major, without too much concern. In the US, we often joke that we only have jobs to get health insurance, and in a morbidly, truthful sense, this is entirely true. The truth (la verdad) is that we are gambling on the fact that there will be something to support us financially and provide resources should something catastrophic happen, such as an accident (un accidente) or a severe illness.
This is difficult enough to manage back home, as the long lines (las líneas largas) at the doctors’ offices give rise to prescriptive treatments that do often help, but can also be both a blessing and an inconvenience. Sure we have health insurance back home, and even here, we have “catastrophic” health insurance for emergencies (las emergencias). Suffice it to say that unless something horrible happens, we are in charge of our own health costs and we will have to pay (pagar) for it at each turn.
The older I get, the more I see how important it is to take care of yourself, to watch your weight, to diet, to exercise (hacer ejercicio) and to reduce stress in your life. As I am managing this for myself, I do my best, but in reality, I am a bit “old school” in that if I am not bleeding or passing out, I believe I will be OK. Yet, couple this with being in a foreign country where you home that all this training (este entrenamiento) in Spanish really does pay off and that you can understand and comprehend both the risks and benefits of any clinical procedure.
Yet, when it is not you, but someone you love, who has to take bold steps in regards to a clinical procedure in a foreign country (un país extranjero), you tend to be taken aback by both the potential severity of the issues and the helplessness of health related concerns. As I write these thoughts, I myself am helpless and alone, as it is my wife (mi esposa), Sarah, who has to stand up to this test. With a brave heart and a strong spirit (un espíritu fuerte), she is taken behind the glass of the clinic’s doors, along and humble, reserved, yet faithful.
As I remain in the waiting room, my thoughts (mis pensamientos) bounce from high to low, and my prayers are going nonstop. My wife is a courageous person, and even today, my thoughts are squarely on her and on our future (nuestro futuro), as we put our faith to the test and our lives in the will of God, as well as the hands of the medical staff here at Clínica Alemana. When the smoke (el humo) clears and the dust (el polvo) settles, Sarah’s checkup at the clinic proved to be a blessing and her stomach pain was attributed to a small infection that is being treated with antibiotics. In fact, the doctor (el doctor) told me that the operative work for me to tell her from here on out is “Yes!”
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