That night we returned again to the market to finish our shopping and had a fun dinner with hat spinners, lute players, candle balancers, and belly dancers! The spice vendors and orange juice vendors had beautiful carts, but were pretty aggressive. I paid three times too much for my OJ. It was all part of the fun though!
The next day we took the bus back to Casablanca and had dinner before catching our 2am flight. Everything was going so smoothly.. what could possibly go wrong now?
Then it happened.
Jenny had been feeling ill all day, but we had written it off as traveler’s diarrhea. But by dinner time she was having severe pains in her abdomen and we called a doctor to the restaurant. He was worried it might be her appendix so off we went to the hospital, called Clinique Anchfaa. Luckily we still had Seddik with us.
At first the hospital didn’t seem too bad. Small and dimly lit with pink walls. The doctors (the one we called and the one at the hospital) did a sort of sonogram on her stomach. They were speaking Arabic, but in broken French and English told us that her appendix was very large and about to burst. They wanted to perform surgery immediately to take it out. I was on the phone with both of her parents – who were amazingly calm – and they told me that they had this insurance where a medical jet with doctors on board would fly in and rescue us. It turned out like any other insurance company and wanted to pass the buck to someone else. Morocco isn’t the easiest place to access and the doctor was telling them they needed to operate so the insurance thought she should stay there for the surgery. But that was not going to happen after I witnessed the insertion of the IV.
I held Jenny’s hand as she looked at me and screamed as if she were in labor. Two nurses and the surgeon took turns jamming the large IV needle into her hand and digging around looking for a vein. You could see the needle under the skin moving around. It was awful. I was going back and forth telling Jenny it was ok and trying to comfort her and telling the doctor that this was ridiculous and it should not take this many tries. Finally relief came when the only woman nurse got the needle in on the first try.
Luckily Jenny’s father is a surgeon as well and said that even if her appendix ruptures, she has 24 hours to have surgery and survive. The surgeon put on quite a show for me speaking to “someone” on the phone about how many years experience he had and it was just terrible we didn’t want to operate. Once Jenny signed the refusal of surgery form the doctor left. So now we’re left in an empty hospital and no magical jet to rescue us. Her parents decided (and I agreed) she at least needed to get to Rome.
Here’s the kicker: Seddik now informs me that while they are looking at the sonogram they were saying in Arabic that they could not find anything wrong and it looked normal. They wanted to operate for the money! He would have told me sooner had we decided to go ahead with the operation. But still.. Jenny is not well. At least the pain meds kicked in and we were just left with dizziness and nausea.
So off we go – with Seddik – to the airport to try to catch our flight with the group. We have about two hours until our flight leaves. One the way there, I am calling on my angels – Dad and Molly – to help us get home. It is comforting to know I have at least a couple up there who will always be pulling for me.
We arrive at the airport and I tell Jenny she needs to look lively so the airline doesn’t think she’s sick and ban her from flying. We start to walk through the initial screeners and Jenny says “I can’t do it, I can’t do it” and faints right under the screener-thing! The security guy calls the doctor to come down. Wow – we’re not making our flight at this rate!
Before the doctor arrives Seddik says to me, “Well, she had food poisoning, and is just very tired and drained.” I agree to go along with the story and tell Jenny the details of the fish she ate yesterday, etc. The doctor arrives and we tell him our fib. He agrees that it is very common and she needs to take two Imodium.
Success!
Now we just need to get our girl on the plane. But she’s white as a sheet, can’t keep her eyes open, and almost faints every time she tries to stand up. It was like a bad sequel to Weekend at Bernie’s. We need a wheelchair. You would’ve thought that we asked to have a horse-drawn golden wagon take her to the gate. There are four golf carts lined up, but the drivers have all gone home and they don’t have the keys (keep in mind it is about 1:30am). Jenny sleeps on a golf cart while we wait. And wait. I change my shoes thinking, “Ok, here are my lucky shoes I’m putting on.” No wheelchair. I go downstairs to the bathroom thinking, “Ok now there will be a wheelchair when I come up.”
Hey, that one actually worked! As I get off the escalator I see a golf cart coming down the hall. We get loaded up and they argue for a while about whose responsibility it is to drive us around, and finally we’re off to catch our plane. We get through security and there is a wheelchair waiting on the other side. Jenny is riding up the escalator with her eyes closed and at the top I see her boyfriend Troy standing there with a teddy bear (which they later named Seddik). Jenny looked up and was too weak to smile, but I about lost it! This could be a Lifetime movie, people! Brandon and Elisabeth, a nursing student, were there too and my eyes welled up just seeing them. “Just nice to see a friendly face.”
We were able to make our flight, but only because Morocco decided to have a daylight savings time change and not tell the rest of the world about it. Our printout from the travel agent said 2:20am, but the flight really left at 3:20am. Whew – what a long day.
I was giddy once we boarded the plane. There were moments that I thought we were going to be stranded in Morocco (Seddik was scheduled to fly to France at 8am!) We made it to Rome, and Jenny wasn’t in any pain, just dizzy and nauseated. So we boarded for JFK, where her mom met her at the gate and flew home with her.
When Jenny arrived home, her mom took her to the hospital and the CT scan show that her appendix was perfectly fine. She was severely dehydrated and had an inflamed colon thanks to a parasite. But she is home now and as good as new. Hurray!
Home sweet home.
June 8th I arrived – on time – in Kansas City to my favorite boys greeting me. E had his hair buzzed and the huge knot on his head was healing from his bike wreck. (Ms. Shannon at day care said “oh, she’s never leaving again” when he walked in with that huge knot.)
No regrets about leaving and appreciative to have been offered such a wonderful opportunity. But so happy to be home. Back to grilling. Back to sitting in lawn chairs on the driveway watching E ride his bike. Back to my family. I’ll have so many stories to tell E as he grows up. About how much we appreciate the food we have to eat and the toys he has to play with. About what life is like outside of our happy home.
>> For another viewpoint, read my co-leader's take on the trip here. .JPG)
After having my baby, it is so easy to see my own child in the faces of other children. I thought about how often E gets leftover books in his cubby after book fairs at school. He’s always excited, but I need to remind him to be even more grateful for what he has. 
Finally we are granted permission to enter the village and the bus takes us as far as it can. Then it’s up to a little Mitsubishi pickup to get us the rest of the way. Abbe and I thought we were on a suicide mission off the side of the mountain, but we were just turning into the drive at Dar Tassa, our guest house. So glad there was a road there! 
Due to our delay we just ate dinner and had a relaxing evening. The view was just gorgeous from our home in the mountains. The welcoming goat milk did a number on my tummy, so I stayed behind with the other leader Brandon – also feeling the goat milk – as the others went on a night walk. Finally, a full night’s sleep! I love the mountains! 
After dinner we walked down a path and found a couple of very friendly vendors who sold us some plates at a great price. Soon it was time to return to the bus, but we were missing a few. Turns out they were still on Berber time. The best part is, Seddik says that Berber time doesn’t even exist!
