letter24

Dear Family and Friends,

My left ear was full of little pockets of puss, popping and bubbling and
begging for some release; fiery flames burst through my ear canal in a rapid
firing motion, causing my to writhe from the bursts of pain and curl up into
a fetal position as if a cannon was put directly against my head and fired;
I wondered if I had accidentally swallowed bongo drums as I listened to the
insistent pounding inside my fragile head; I struggled to hear through an
ear that seemed to have a cork plugging it and an angry ocean crashing
inside it . . . I had a horrible, worst-ever, ear infection that made me
feel like Sigourney Weaver in "Alien" as I questioned what exactly HAD
crawled in and invaded my poor left ear and what exactly WAS going to burst
out and suck out my brains. But, I guess I'd rather leave THAT to the
movies, so I made yet another trip to the Peace Corps doctor when it
appeared that my ear wasn't getting any better.

When I got to the office in Sofia and the Bulgarian doctor we have working
for us assessed my condition by shoving one of those painful ear-things
inside my ear, only causing my to wince in pain and pinch my legs together,
he determined that I needed to see an ear, nose, and throat doctor at a
local clinic. So, Boyko (the doctor) shoved a handful of cotton into my ear
and we were off. We walked, oh, 20, 30 miles (you can insert "in 6 feet of
snow" here, if it makes the story sound even more adventurous), Boyko having
to shove me out of the way of barrelling cars and trams now and then since,
as I said before, I had a cork, not to mention all the cotton, decreasing my
hearing with each step. But, we finally arrived at a building that really
didn't look all that different from my block apartment in Samokov. And,
then, I was faced with a jovial doctor with a passion for ears, noses, and
throats; a doctor who had more hair coming out of his OWN nose and ears to
keep all of Alaska warm AND keep the "Hair Club For Men" supplied with fresh
toupees.

The doctor put one of those old-fashioned head band things on his head, the
kind with the magnifying glass thing that doctors used to use back in the
old days, and, after checking my ear, he took out a miniature tiki torch.
Now, by this point, I thought the guy was either going to start my ear on
fire to drive out the demons, or have a Hawaiian Luau, but, since I didn't
see any leis or roasted pigs, I opted for the former. He lit the torch on
fire and, as the flames shot up around us, he stuck a rusted peace of wire
into the flame and wound cotton around it to make his homemade Q-tip, while
I shivered despite the heat from the fire. He sprayed and coated the rusted
wire Q-tip with all of his poitions, brews, ointments, his eyes racing and
his hair (all of it) grasping and poking like that of a mad witch doctor,
before shoving it into my ear and using it to claw and mangle and pull out
all of my insides in one swift yank. I didn't think I'd make it out of
there alive . . . but . . . I did.

This, is when I found out that I would need to stay in Sofia until Friday,
atleast, so that my ear could be treated as, this was, a very serious ear
infection. I wasn't too keen about missing school because classes are often
canceled entirely in a land void of substitute teachers, but I obliged since
it would have been painful to teach anyways. I was put up in the top floor
of the office in a little room called, "sick bay," which just so happened to
be a cross between Anne Frank and that movie, "Flowers in the Attic." I
didn't know whether or not to hide from the Nazis in my little hole, or hide
from a mean old grandmother who was trying to poison me. So, I did a little
bit of both. The first couple of days, I seldom left my hole and I tryed to
content myself with books, the nurse doll in the corner, and taking my
temperature with the digital thermometer they gave me just for fun. They
eventually gave me tylenol with codeine to help me sleep, and that just made
it all a little bit more exciting! And, then, I would creep down to the
medical office for more "treatments" as my ear was poked, prodded, and
coated beyond recognition. Eventually, they saw that all of the other
antibiotics, the sprays and oral stuff, weren't working, so Boyko opted for
the unthinkable . . . painful shots in the . . . dare I say it . . . butt .
. . pardon my French! The one good thing about that, despite the fact that
it left me incapacitated for atleast two hours, was that it shifted the pain
from my ear real quick! My stay turned into two more days as I recieved my
treatments and, each day, Boyko stood before me with a devilish twinkle in
his eye and a long, eager needle jumping from his hand as if possessed.
Now, I was suddenly cast in, "The Exorcist", only it was a needle that was
possessed! Boyko joked that I would have nightmares of him giving me shots
as we went through this daily ritual and I heartily agreed as, each day, I
prepared for the sting of the antibiotic bee.

I am somewhat better now, though not completely. My ear is still very
plugged and I am supposed to get two more shots and go back to Sofia for a
check up on Friday. But, I'm on the road to recovery! And I am back in
Samokov with a disgruntled kitty curled up on my lap!

So, my 24th birthday was spent with an ear infection in Sofia. Luckily, I
celebrated with my friends last weekend. But, I made the most of my
birthday by joining in the Bulgarian tradition of buying a box of chocolates
and giving everyone a chocolate as I passed my favorite Bulgarian chololates
around the Peace Corps office. The medical staff, perhaps because they felt
sorry for me, gave me a red rose for my birthday and the secretary at the
front desk surprised me with homemade cookies. So, my 24th birthday wasn't
all that bad . . . definitely not as bad as I thought it would be,
especially since I celebrated it around friends and aquaintances. I spent
much of the day thinking about the fun birthday events I have had the last
few years with close friends like Jennifer, Michelle, and Casey . . . I
thought about the dinners, the surprises, the slumber parties, and the fun
times, and I missed all of that this year . . . but those are all memories
that I will cherish as I make more birthday memories. After all, how many
people get the chance to turn a year older in Bulgaria?!!? I don't think
I'd change that for the world . . . . .

Love and Best Wishes,
Chantel

P.S. Thanks so much to all of you who have sent packages and who have
flooded my e-mail inbox with birthday wishes and get well soon messages!
You know how much I appreciate all of you and how each
e-mail you send is an incedible blessing!