Best Husband Award Goes To...

Mine! At midnight as I was doubled over with abdominal pain, my dear husband rushed me to the hospital. He got mad at the slow Kenyan emergency room doctors and nurses. He ran around paying a bill for the IV, then a bill for the shot in my butt, then a bill for this, and a bill for that. He ran my pee and blood to the lab. He sat and held me as I cried and as I slept. He got me a load of medical prescriptions. And he got me home in bed feeling much better by 3 am.

Another experience at the Kenyan emergency room found me with a UT infection. Nothing a lot of antibiotics and $120 can't fix. But once again we were reminded how much we hate how Kenya works sometimes. From our western mind-set, we want the emergency room to move quickly. When someone is in obvious pain, we hope that doctors would rush to figure it out. Instead, some worker takes your blood pressure and weight and height, even if half your face is ripped off. Kenya has a lot of good things, but moving quickly is never one of them. It's moments like this I have to keep visions of the things I love about Kenya in my mind and remember that all places, even home, have their down-sides. Missing American efficiency today and looking forward to the Kenyan beach in three weeks!