Positively Itching

I think writing my silly resolutions down may have invited the demons. So far, 2009 has tested my ability to remain positive. I have always been an optimist in the sense that I hope for the best, and generally tend to think that things will work out. Others may see this as an unrealistic lack of foresight, but "optimist" is so much more positive.

For example, in the following scenario, I was fairly convinced, until the last minute, that things would work out (aka I'd get to stay in Panama):

Less than an hour after a hip MRI on January 16th, my doctor called me. I was actually driving home from the appointment when he called. Impressive. Turns out I have a 11 mm stress fracture in the neck of my femur. It's probably been there since the marathon I ran last August (or before, who knows), but really doesn't hurt much at all any more...really. Doctor's orders were: calcium supplements and rest. Basically, "Cuidate!" (He does speak Spanish, but didn't say that, exactly).

So I think, "Cool, I haven't been imagining the pain, and now I can deal." My experience with Panamanian doctors often leaves me feeling literally crazy. A couple years ago I had similar hip pain, and the orthopedist in Panama prescribed me antidepressants. Hip pain = depression?? Back to being positive...

So, dealing the way I know to deal, I flew back to Panama January 19th, arrived in the office the next morning, found out I wasn't medically cleared (the doctor wasn't so positive when he talked to the medical staff) and after busing it across the country to spend a harried day or so in my house, arranging pieces that someone would have to pick up (Thanks Lydia, Allie and Robby), I grabbed the 7-hour night bus back to Panama City, filled out some papers, and was back in my parent's house by January 28th. And breathe...

Even though I'm not sure when I'll be able to go back to Panama, here are the positives:

1. Even though the last trip to Panama was brief, I got to hang out with my good friend Adam on his way back from his South American adventure, and arrange things to prepare for my absence. Technically, I shouldn't have gone back, but this I had subconsciously blocked from my awareness.

2. I added the trip to my Delta SkyMiles account, even though I didn't have to pay for it (it's legal!).

3. Being at home, I have more time to catch up with friends and family. There are some activities that are so refreshingly, wonderfully normal:
-I watched the Superbowl, ate buffalo wings (Thanks, Marina and Herberth!), and actually cared about the game enough to jump up and down screaming a couple of times, even though the Cardinals lost...good game!
-I went to the Zoo with Michelle and saw penguins (and other things...)! The orangutan baby kissed the glass.
-I've cooked, in an OVEN! with ORGANIC INGREDIENTS!
-The bookstores and coffee shops of America are now feeling less economically starved since I've returned from Panama.
-I get to spend a week with Roxy in Utah!

After the next MRI on Feb 20th I'll know more about a possible return to work in Panama. Right now, I'm getting a taste of unemployment, so I can better relate to the rest of America. Even so, knowing that I may have extended free time in my near future makes me restless. Grad school is pretty much set for the fall, I'm just waiting on the location. So, to play the IF game of logic:

IF the MRI is clear, THEN I will (probably) make it back to Panama and stay there til August.

IF the MRI is not clear, I may be prescribed another period of rest, and THEN (possibly) make it back to Panama til August.

IF the MRI is not clear, they may tell me I can't go back as a Volunteer, and THEN I will go back to hang out, but (probably) not til August. And this is the questions I haven't let myself dwell on: how would I squander my meager readjustment allowance for 6 months? Would I seek temporary employment? Volunteer? Road trip the US? Travel South America? Buy that "cheap" ticket to New Zealand? I can't stop gazing at the Deals section of Travelocity.com.

The travel bug's back, along with the maddening Itch to just take off...

In Starbucks the other day, amidst the tacky Valentines junk, lay a book called, "The Traveler." Intrigued, I picked it up. Meanwhile, they brewed my exorbitant "Apple Chai" that I'm convinced is nothing but apple cider, cracked out with extra sugar and nutmeg. I only ordered it because the coffee leaves me feeling cracked out, but the "tea" was only marginally less crack-y. Anyway, "The Traveler" was written like a children's story with cute, simple pictures and a few lines on each page. The plot: a boy has a wonderful life, but one day he gets the Itch, packs a suitcase, an embarks on a trip around the world to find his "place" . Moral of the story: he spends his whole life wandering until he's old and realizes the place he's been seeking is back home. Ok, so kinda cute and cheesy, and considering its place amongst Valentine objects, I could stretch to say a thinly disguised attempt at getting a loved one to settle down (just can't quiet the cynic within)... although I have to admit it stuck a chord. There is no place like home.

But, to continue the cliches, if home is where the heart is, then I'm a bloody mess, because half of my heart is back in Panama, trying to live the life I set up for myself there for over two years: with my friends, my host family, my neighbors, my job and my cats. Which is why I know I'll return, relatively soon, one way or another.

But, in the meantime, I'm positively itching...