It's always something in Jamaica

I actually debated for several days whether or not I should share this story with all of you, but ultimately, I decided in favor of sharing it. My reason for this is twofold – for one, it is one of the more exciting things that has happened to me in the past few weeks, but it is also something that will define at least part of my experience here for a number of reasons, and as such, I figured it’s something that I should be sharing. So, here it goes.

About two weeks ago, I was traveling through a town about 45 minutes south of Ocho Rios (where I live) called Brown’s Town. I was on my way to a meeting and after paying my taxi fare I decided to ask for directions at a shop across the way instead of just wandering around to look for the building. What I remember is this: crossing halfway onto a median/island and waving good morning to some men who were on the sidewalk. I was heading across the next street to the shops, and the next thing I remember is being in the back of a police car holding a handkerchief to my forehead and talking to the police men who were sitting in the front seat, where I was told that I had been hit by a car. (Now, let me pause here to save you all the suspense: I am fine. I was more or less fine from the beginning. I have a cut on my forehead and a few bruises, but nothing major – I actually got really lucky.) I still don’t remember the accident, so I can’t really be sure what happened. What I’ve been able to put together from what the cops told me is that I was hit by a car, who drove off before anyone was able to get his plate number. I’m not sure how I was hit, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t head on – I think I just got bumped hard enough to knock me down. A taxi man in the area took me to the police station, where I was moved into a police car and driven to the closest hospital (about 25 miles away). I’m still not sure how long I was out, or if I was fully unconscious or just blacked out during this time, but I think it was about 20 – 30 minutes. It was a little weird to wake up in the back of a police car, but I was still so out of it that it didn’t really phase me at the time. I was trying to piece it all together while trying to answer the officer’s questions, which was a difficult task at that point.

Once I got to the hospital, I was taken care of really fast. I guess that’s one perk of an open head wound – doctors tend to pay attention to you pretty quick. I was cleaned up, stitched up, given facial x-rays, prescribed pain killers and antibiotics and sent on my way. Overall, I wasn’t too impressed with the hospital, and I am a little concerned that they let me go without more of a neurological check-up (they didn’t even talk to me about symptoms of a concussion or what to do if I have one), and they were definitely doing the bare minimum they had to before they could let me go…my doctor didn’t even tell me when I could get the stitches out or how often to change the dressing. I am really lucky that I was able to rely on Peace Corps for more thorough medical care, and am a little uncomfortable with their standard of care for the general public. I was lucky – I didn’t have any internal bleeding or a bad concussion. But I very easily could have, and if I had been suffering from either of these things, the hospital would have let me walk out their doors with no one the wiser. A scary thought indeed. But once again, I had Peace Corps to fall back on, and this is where the story takes a much needed positive turn.

While waiting at the hospital I called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer…we love acronyms in PC) to let her know what had happened. There are 2 PCMOs on staff and they are in charge of making sure that the 75 volunteers on the island stay healthy. We go to them with any medical issues, and they take care of us – either by seeing and treating us themselves or by setting us up with a doctor in our areas to see. In my case, there wasn’t any time to consult with them before seeing a doctor, so I called afterwards. The PCMO decided that she wanted to see me in person, and informed me that she would be coming up to Ocho Rios later that afternoon to check me out. I was a little floored by this – it meant an extra 3 hours of travelling tacked onto the end of her day for just a 10 minute visit. But I know by now not to question Peace Corps staff when it comes to medical or safety issues. So I made my way home and waited for her to arrive. I was still a little out of it, and I remember walking around my house unsure as to what to do. I knew what I had to do – clean up myself and my house a little, take a shower, call my mother, unpack my bag from the day, etc. But actually sitting down to do these things was another story. Except for calling my mother, of course. That I did right when I got home, and for the record, she took it well. There was a little bit of freaking out on her side, but that’s to be expected and she did a good job of keeping a calm front for me, which was helpful. I’m sure Courtney could tell you a different story about how she reacted, but I was glad that she was more or less calm when she talked to me.

When the PCMO got to my house, she decided to take me back down to Kingston, for two main reasons. The first being that I live by myself and the other being that I had lost consciousness and probably had a concussion. So I packed for a few days, took a quick shower and rode back down to Kingston with her to stay at the Country Director’s (CD) house – more on this to come a little later. I saw a private doctor the next day, and got a CAT scan, both of which confirmed that am healthy and that my brain is in tip-top shape (despite what some of you may think…) I spent the next day and a half in the Peace Corps Office, which was really nice. The office staff is great and volunteers are constantly coming and going, so I got to see a lot of people (and had to relive my story countless times, thanks to a very unambiguous band-aid on my forehead). There’s also internet, books and TV, so I had plenty to keep myself busy when there weren’t volunteers around. The PC office is a really nice and homey place, and somewhere I feel really comfortable spending time so it was a good place for me to be. I was in a good amount of pain the 2 days after the accident, but nothing that was unexpected – some headaches and body aches. On the third day, I was feeling relatively good, and day by day I’ve gotten a lot better. I still have a few bruises left over, and I got the stitches out this past Monday, which was almost more painful than getting them in. I have a nice scar on my forehead, but luckily my hair covers most of it, and I’m hoping it’ll fade over the next few months.

I know it’s a weird thing to say, but I do feel like I got really lucky. Thankfully, I didn’t have any broken bones – I can’t even imagine what being in cast in the middle of the summer would be like here. I’d much rather a cut on my head and a few days worth of a headache. And I had a lot of valuable items in my bag – ipod, camera, phone and cash to name a few, and all of those things made it with me to the hospital. In a country known for pick-pockets and petty theft, that is a miracle in and of itself. Even my sunglasses which must have come off my head made it home with me. And Peace Corps took amazing care of me, so that’s definitely comforting to know.

As a side note, there is one funny anecdote from the situation. The accident happened on the Monday after July 4^th. I had spent the weekend with other volunteers in a house on the south coast of the island grilling and just hanging out. The meeting I had was on the way back from there to my town, so I had my backpack with all my stuff from the weekend still with me. And besides clothes and a camera, this also included a bottle of rum that I hadn’t finished (because this is Jamaica after all)…a glass bottle. As it turns out, glass isn’t the strongest material in the world, and at some point the bottle broke in my bag, soaking everything and causing my bag (and by extension me) to reek of rum for the rest of the day. And it didn’t help that I was so out of it from hitting my head that I was talking, walking and acting like I was drunk. For the record, this all happened at 10:30 on a Monday...and yes, the police did ask me if I had been drinking. I wasn’t really sure why they asked that at first, but once I started smelling the rum, it all made sense.

Oh, and just a small note on our Country Director (CD) – she is phenomenal. I stayed at her house (which is a really, really nice house), for 2 nights and she was so warm and welcoming. We had a long conversation about PC and concerns I have been having about my site and she gave me a lot of fantastic advice and is just so patient. I felt comfortable being entirely open and honest with her despite the fact that she is technically my boss. Apparently the last two country directors have not been so fantastic, so I feel really lucky to have her around and to have gotten the chance to talk to her on an individual level, despite the reason for that opportunity.

I’ll end it on that positive note. Let me say once again that I am fine and healthy and the only lasting effect of the accident will be a small scar on my forehead. Peace Corps took amazing care of me, and I don’t feel unsafe here…it’s something that could have happened anywhere. It wasn’t the best experience to have had here, but hey, at least I get a good story out of it, right?