Live the same

We jumped on my scooter and headed to the hospital. We got there without any problems – but it turned out the hospital was closed! Even the emergency room doors were locked and no one was answering.

But we quickly realized why – the night staff were celebrating Christmas too. They were drinking, dancing and having fun in the parking lot behind the building!

I wonder what they thought when they saw two guys – one of them was covered in blood and the other looked like a tank.

Then we realized that neither of them spoke English and we didn’t speak Spanish. All I knew was that “dog” in Spanish is perro, but I said espero – which actually means “hope”.

So there I was, pointing to my bloody hand, torn shorts and bitten butt, saying something like “espero clack-clack” – it was like a game of charades! The doctors were rolling with laughter. 😅  

Luckily, they had phones with internet, and once they stopped laughing, they used a translator to finally understand what happened...

They cleaned my wounds, gave me some shots and put me on an IV (the photo I posted yesterday has nothing to do with this story - I was sick with some kind of fever in that photo ) They didn't stitch the wound, although I thought they should have - the wound on my arm opened up several times over the next week. After 20-30 minutes, they pulled out the IV and I went outside - to where we found the doctors... they were still hanging out and my friend was with them. Even though I had just had an IV, they handed me a plastic cup of Santa Libre (that's rum with sprite). Well, I wasn't thinking straight that night (nor were the doctors who gave me alcohol after the shots and IV - haha) so I drank it all. We hung out there for a while, and then my friend said, Hey, let's go to the Haitian Pit and see how Haitians celebrate Christmas! And I thought... Mmm, that actually sounds like a great idea. When else are we going to get a chance like this? So, already drunk, straight from the hospital, on a scooter, we went there