God bless the Mayo Clinic

The last time I was in Honduras I was fortunate enough not to have to use any medical facilities. As fate would have it, this time I was not so lucky. Suffering from a pretty nasty pain for the past couple of days, I decided to drop Danika off at her self-described Ti-Ti’s (Honduran speak for Auntie), and venture off to the local clinic. I left at what I thought was an early hour and finally arrived at around 7:30am. The clinic, called “Ms. Peggy’s Clinica” is run by an American Doctor and a couple of Honduran nurses. I figured this was my best bet as I knew that she would speak and understand English as my Spanish is still not what it should be yet.

The clinic is a small building with three rooms; a waiting room, an exam room, and a bathroom. When I arrived I found the waiting room over filled with sick children, women, and men. I went up to the clipboard sitting on a desk and signed my name. I looked around to see if I needed to do anything else, but apparently a name on the list is all that is required. I found a spot against a wall and looked around taking in my surroundings. Next to me was a baby not more than 5 months old with an open sore on his back, a little girl next to me that was crying from a pain that wasn’t visible, and a man with a foot that looked like it was probably broken. No one spoke any English, all were poor farmers and market workers. I felt immediately as if I had no justification for being there with my measley stomach pain and my designer sunglasses. I gave a silent thank you to the Lord for once again humbling me, and decided it would be more insulting if I walked out than if I waited with everyone else.

6 hours later, I completely and totally regretted my decision.

Finally I was called in, “Cornie Lenoz?” (for some reason my name is incredibly difficult for Spanish speakers to pronounce). I asked the nurse where Ms. Peggy was, and she told me from what I could understand that I just missed her and would be seeing the local Spanish doctor instead.

¨Of course I am..¨ I said to myself.

Six and a half hours after I had arrived, I left with a bag of vitamins that I had no idea what they were for, and I had to laugh at how much I use to complain about waiting for my appointment at the Mayo Clinic.

As I waited by the roadside for the next chicken bus to pass by, I paused in the moment feeling completely overwhelmed at how beautiful my life is.

I love those moments…