I WANT MY MUMMY... SO MUCH.

Dear friend,

Yes, I am a grown woman (Kirsty, it's not a debate, I am). But I'll be the first to admit that all I wanted on Tuesday night was my mummy, and I am not embarrassed to say so.

That tummy dis-ease I've been feeling since Friday fully came to a head on Tuesday night after, what I thought was some improvement in my symptoms, I went out to dinner with some others and trialed a regular sized meal. Oh my goodness, major mistake. I didn't get any sleep Tuesday night, and, I didn't know it was possible but I had every single abdominal symptom possible -- indigestion, constipation, diarrhoea, nausea, as well as moderately severe epigastric and suprapubic tenderness! No position was comfortable: lying down, siting up, leaning forward, leaning back, nothing. I was up to the bathroom, back to bed, up to the bathroom, back to bed. No respite at all.

And what makes it worse when you're a(n almost) doctor is an (unhealthy) reluctance to ask for help, feeling like the onus is on you to diagnose and treat yourself. Which, given the mixed bag of symptoms and signs, I despondently felt was an impossible feat.

As I sat alone, in Africa, in the dark, quietly suffering in silence, I found myself thinking about what my mum would do when I had an upset tummy as a kid -- how she would press and rub my tummy in this special way, singing this old-wives song that was supposed to bring relief, and make some Korean rice soup -- and how, almost like magic, I would feel insanely better or, in the very least, like there was hope amidst the pain, that the world was not the horrible place it was in that moment.

Home has never felt as far as it did on Tuesday night.

How vulnerable and utterly lonely one feels when in pain.

... which is something I hope to remember each and every single day as I go about my job as a doctor.

In that moment all I wanted was someone from the future to suddenly appear before me and offer me the chance to tele-port home.

But that's not life. Or what builds perseverance. At least, that is the pathetic consolation prize I tried convincing myself to accept. 'But Anna, this is what builds perseverance. You are growing as a woman, as a human being' And for a nano-second that bitter part of my mind would snap back, 'Oh, shut up you crazy woman. What are you even doing here?!' Then I remember, actually, there is joy in suffering. Of my own volition, I will actively choose not to buy into that bitterness or negativity; I will actively choose not to accept that un-Truth. I am here for a reason, and I rejoice. And, in the very least, I remember that I can lie down flat and close my eyes any time I want. Wow. With that blessing in and of itself, who am I to complain? LoL

Please do keep me in your thoughts and prayers this week especially though. It's not easy. I fully expected this in theory, but it doesn't make it any easy when it's actually happening to you.

I am SO incredibly happy I chose to run a half marathon this year because, unbeknown to me, it was part of God's plan in helping me psychologically prepare for my time here. The theme of this year really has been Perseverance.

With love,

-A

Thought of the day: I saw a really cool quote up in my supervisor's office the other day -- 'You can complain because roses have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses. It depends on how you see things.' Amen to that. :)