My Boy, My Hero!!! pt 2

So...where was I?



Oh yes, Boo had finally gotten the door open and my two Yemeni neighbors came bustling in looking around to see where I was (and I do believe checking out the cleanliness of my house...they were sticklers for being neat). They found me lying on the floor in obvious pain and distress. My clothes were soaked...the floor was covered in vomit and I was in agony curled up in a ball.



Now, Ive never required emergency hospital treatment in the states so I cant say with authority exactly what the procedure entails...in Bahrain (or at least in my house and on the way to the hosp on that particular day) it consisted of a series of events that nearly led to my potential death.



So there I was laying on the floor...very very happy to see my "rescuers" and quite ready to be rescued...however...they had a few things they felt needed doing before they could cart me off to the hosp apparently.



Let me first say that while my understanding of Arabic is fairly decent for the most part...when it comes to Yemeni Arabic they might as well be speaking Swahili...I havent a clue...which means the lack of communication this particular day added a great deal of stress to an all ready stressful situation.



First of all, they took one look at my house clothes and decided they just wouldnt do for an emergency trip to the hosp. So much for the...get her in the car as fast as you can cause obviously she needs hosp treatment ASAP!!!...oh no...I needed a makeover first before they were satisfied to get me moving out the door.



So try and picture this comedy of errors that preceded my being saved at the proverbial last minute by, for once in my case, a flurry of attentive doctors.



First the two ladies tried wrestling me into an abaya. I was at that time wearing an abaya that was pulled over the head...so they attempted to get my abaya on (which can be a bit of a struggle at the best of times) by fair means or foul...but Im by no means a light weight. Ive got some jiggle that needs to be dealt with and its a chore all by itself when Im completely concious and have all my abilities at my control...mix that excess poundage with legs of jelly and a half comatose mental state...plus two rather diminutive sized women ...and ...well...you can imagine what sort of tragic dance ensued.



About an eon later when they finally had me all properly abayed I felt a sense of relief that cannot be measured...finally we were ready to get out the door. Yalla! Im ready...lets go.



They were not done yet. They felt I still needed a little something something before I was ready. I might add that I was still wracked with pain...still vomiting now and then...still sweating sweat the size of rain drops...and still pretty much out of it...so they did what must have seemed like the most natural thing to do under these emergency conditions...they now attempted to put my hijab on. (I still wore one then as well...and this incident was one of the deciding factors that eventually led me to remove it...among others).



So...for any woman that has ever worn the hijab you will know that it can be a bit tricky when YOU are the one putting it on...arranging it...and maybe even pinning it....so for someone else to put it on you (while your practically comatose I might add) Im sure is something has to be seen to be appreciated for its slapstick comedy appeal.



Now considering I was the victim to all this fashion policing....and a very sick and very pitiful one at that...I cant say for sure just how long these ladies took to get my hijab on in a satisfactory manner that was pleasing to them. (they were niqabis themselves so were quite happy to try and introduce me to the joys of not being able to see where Im going at that particular moment)...I feebly attempted to let them know that I was more than happy to forego the "modesty "of hijab...just this once...in order to facilitate my speedy arrival at the health center....but they didnt understand...or chose not to...so Im thinking it must have been a week at least before my hijab was in place (more or less) and we were finally headed out the door. Me sandwiched between these two women that turned out to be surprisingly strong for their size. (they had to be to get me to the car...sigh...now wheres that gym membership form)



So fiiiiinally we were in the car of one of their husbands...me slouching in the back seat vaguely aware that Boo was in there with me...wondering if I was actually going to die on this particular day considering the pain was unrelenting and growing by the minute...and that I had Lucille Ball and her sidekick in complete control of my immediate future.



I dont know how they drive in Yemen...but from my experience having my very own Yemeni driver that day I would hazard a guess and say they drive extremely sloooooowly. No need to worry I didnt observe certain safety precautions...I might die from whatever alien was currently trying to vacate my chest...but I would not die from my failure to wear my seatbelt...small blessings and all that.



Hindsight tells me I started feeling the first stirrings of pain around 9:30 am...about 45 minutes had passed before I attempted to call husband...when we arrived at the health center it was nearly noon as I heard the adhan playing and the health center is only 5 minutes from my house....soooooo...it took those ladies approximately an hour...maybe a little more...to dress me "appropriately" before deciding I was good to go.



So...we arrived at the health center. Yay!! You would think that was a good thing for someone like me...you know...seriously sick and all.



Think again.

*to be continued