appendixless in Africa

Well all I can say is thank god for travelers insurance! Wednesday night I got home and had shooting pains in my side naturally I attributed it to my stomach problems and oshimella I had been having for weeks. In Namibia it's not really a suprise to be having some stomach problems, but all I could think was I'm in so much PAIN lesson learned go to Europe next time. The next I woke up in extreme pain but refused to go to the doctor because I don't know how to do anything on my own. I went to the Dr. who was a very nice Afrikanner that reminded me of santa claus. He put my mind at ease and understood why I was nervous to be there. First, we went through a series of questions (he wanted to make sure it wasn't an oops your pregnant moment) Good thing it is most certainly not that!Then he said the word surgery. My first thought was NO! then NOT IN NAMIBIA! then THATS IT IM GOING BACK TO AMERICA! naturally I burst into tears. He asked me what my fears were and I blurted it out like an ignorant american as opposed to one that had been living in the country for months "Is surgery in Namibia safe?" Thankfully he explained the medical system and put my mind at ease fun fact:: Namibia does not do transplant surgery because the population is too small. Anyhoo I waited for what felt like an eternity for Passat (our driver) to come take me to the surgeon I was referred to.  I got to the surgeon with literally stabbing pains it was miserable. I begged for sarah (one of the employees to be able to come and hold my hand). He said she wasn't allowed (later I found out it's because he thinks black people are dumb). The best way to describe is like Dr. Mcsteamy from greys anatomy kind of an ass and definitely a surgeon! Not the most comforting person to be talking to when all you want is your family around. Then he said matter of factly well your getting surgery. Again I burst into tears and screamed "No I'm going back to America" He rolled his eyes like ugh this dumb american and at that point in my head I thought look you assface I am a billion miles from home in a developing country so I'm going to resort to being a three year old and start crying if I want. At that point all I wanted to hear was an American voice preferably one of my family members voices. The program director came and I called my family waking them up at three in the morning.....(in between sobs) "I'm so so scared I just I just want to be home let me I want to come home...their response are they sending you home for the surgery....me it's my appendix they want me to go now I don't want to" Here I am 21 pretending to be an adult in Africa and the second something awful happens I would gladly take the next flight home. I got to the hospital and was taken to the hospital bed immediately and for the third time that day filled out paper work (because it is more important to know I'm going to pay before treating me in any country) In between tears the woman tried to talk to me she didn't understand my accent I didn't understand hers all I understood was the needle she shoved into my arm well I had to hold the little blood tubes it was rough. Fast forward to before the surgery or 1st cultural experience Me: when is my surgery? Nurse: Your not getting surgery Me: What do you mean i'm not getting surgery the Dr. said I was getting surgery at six Nurse: Well he may just want to monitor you. I looked at my program director and said can you please figure out what is going on. Apparently in Namibia the can't answer those questions. Fun Fact Africa time comes into play for surgery as well my surgery started an hour in a half late the surgeon and anestesiologist just seemed like two bro's about to play some video games. (keep in mind this is all in my terrified head of being a 21 year old who has never done anything on their own to sitting in an operating room in AFRICA). Right after the surgery like any american I said my stomach hurts I don't think it was done right why do I have a complication. (I was perfectly fine). The next morning I was light headed and hopped up on pain killers when the nurse came in to see if I could bath myself. Next thing I know here I am sitting in Namibia with this woman who doesn't understand my accent washing every part of my body with my operation underwear on while I''m in and out of conciousness. (talk about an experience). She put my top back on but not my pants so i asked can I have my pants? met with a confused look pants? my pants I want my pants! she points to the table. Then I finally realize trousers I want my trousers the rest of the day was a series of miscommunications about getting out of bed my IV and what I was wearing. I asked for help putting on my shirt and bra their response where is your nightgown? have someone bring a night gown! It's winter you should have a night gown. The response in my head was AMERICANS DONT WEAR NIGHT GOWNS I JUST WANT MY CLOTHES! Despite the communication and cultural differences (everyone speaking a different language all the time). The hospital and service was just like in America. It was also an experience I will certainly never forget. I think at this point I've hopefully been through it all and will literally be coming home a different person and will be leaving a apart of myself in Namibia.