33 Lunghis and 12-inch Nails
An acquaintance of my wife had come to visit me on my last morning in the hospital, and unexpectedly offered the use of a wheelchair should I need it. It was suggested I just pass by and pick it up since the location was on the route to Dr. Arias’ home from the hospital.
A phone call and the arrangements were made.
As we pulled up in front of the house where we were to pick up the wheelchair, a couple emerged with a wheelchair in tow.
Whether or not it had been explained to them that the guy in the back seat would be wearing nothing but a tissue box, to their credit they seemed to take it all in stride.
I should add that although I had only just met Dr. Arias within the past two weeks, we had become fast friends. This friendship initiated before my accident over discussions on the possibility of my organization helping him expand his capacity to help the poor of Lima with free medical services.
Now, in addition to visiting me in the hospital, he and his wife had invited me to recuperate at their house for the next few weeks until I was strong enough to travel.
As we pulled up to Dr. Arias’ home, his wife, who had been forewarned to bring along a cotton wrap, met us in the driveway. So began my week-long stint of wearing cotton wraps, or lunghies as they’re called in India, as my main garb.
My wardrobe choice related directly to the fact a “special machine” that I had been told about in the hospital could not be found. Each day of my hospital stay, I had been assured me that someone was going to bring by a “special machine” to cut the unnecessary length off of the metal pins protruding out of my shin.
Unfortunately, despite my numerous requests about the same, I had this remaining attachment to these 12-inch nails.
A phone call and the arrangements were made.
As we pulled up in front of the house where we were to pick up the wheelchair, a couple emerged with a wheelchair in tow.
Whether or not it had been explained to them that the guy in the back seat would be wearing nothing but a tissue box, to their credit they seemed to take it all in stride.
I should add that although I had only just met Dr. Arias within the past two weeks, we had become fast friends. This friendship initiated before my accident over discussions on the possibility of my organization helping him expand his capacity to help the poor of Lima with free medical services.
Now, in addition to visiting me in the hospital, he and his wife had invited me to recuperate at their house for the next few weeks until I was strong enough to travel.
As we pulled up to Dr. Arias’ home, his wife, who had been forewarned to bring along a cotton wrap, met us in the driveway. So began my week-long stint of wearing cotton wraps, or lunghies as they’re called in India, as my main garb.
My wardrobe choice related directly to the fact a “special machine” that I had been told about in the hospital could not be found. Each day of my hospital stay, I had been assured me that someone was going to bring by a “special machine” to cut the unnecessary length off of the metal pins protruding out of my shin.
Unfortunately, despite my numerous requests about the same, I had this remaining attachment to these 12-inch nails.
Labels: broken leg; wheelchair;
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