The Tears That Did Not Fall

A month ago I was packing my bags for what I know was the biggest adventure I’ve had to date. A month later, I’m sitting at the Thessaloniki Airport, enjoying my last bit of genuine Greek food, waiting to take the second of seven flights to eventually get me back home to Portland, OR. Once I get back to Portland on Monday, I have 4.5 days to catch up on what I’ve missed, pack up what I need, and say my farewells as I leave for San Francisco on Saturday for 5.5 weeks of training. Yes, it’s a crazy schedule. Yes, I chose to do it this way. No, I don’t regret it (at least not yet).

From Stab Wound to All Smiles

While the weather the past few days have been reminiscent of spring days, sunny with a chill but dry, we do have winter days where the rain doesn’t let up and the cold sets into your body. As a result, most of what we see in the clinic are colds, or what’s come to be dubbed as the Moria flu (headache, runny nose, sore throat, cough). Every once in a while we do get something different, like a broken leg, sprained ankle, toothache, pregnancy issue and even a stab wound. Yes, stab wound. That’s what happened the other day.

So It Begins

All my bags are packed, (I think) I’m ready to go…Singing that song is how I woke up my roommate this morning at 4:15am to drive me to the airport. (Best roomie ever–for taking me to the airport, and not hitting me for singing.) I, myself, woke up after my second of five alarms went off at 4:05am after an hour of sleep, with the lights on, because I was terrified that I wouldn’t wake up. Anyone else have that fear or just me? Today was the day. I was starting the long journey to Lesvos to volunteer at the refugee camps.