News spread around the small town and I was visited by more students which was awesome and I felt such gratitude.
Other volunteers from NGOs visited offering to do things for me. But I felt uncomfortable with the attention and a total burden to everyone.
I’m disappointed at my slow recovery.
I had to see the dr again to get wounds cleaned and my antibiotics were changed.
My head still aches slightly from where I landed on it and I get tired very easily.
Concern was expressed again about my head and the Cambodian dr told our Cambodian girl that really I needed to be seen in Phnom Penh. He didn’t have much in the way of medication, he couldn’t check my head and he was equally concerned about infection. I just wanted painkillers and to get out of there.
Pressure was on for me to go to a hospital in PP. but having made the critical 24 hour period of concussion I was convinced that I would be ok. My speech and concentration have improved, and the tiredness and residual headaches seem obvious to me as I heal from the accident.
I just wanted to stay local, where I know, where I’m able to take gentle walks easily and not worry about packing, a 5 hour drive and that exhaustion.
But head office called and I began to realise it was no longer a choice. They had genuine concerns. Apparently a girl working for them in PP cut her foot. It never healed and turned into a serious infection so she’s ill in hospital. I can see blood dribbling out from my bandage and the whole conversation was draining me. I have travel insurance so in the end i relented. At least I can stay back at the hotel I really like and hopefully buy a good book.
Although I’m so anxious about the dr. I hate going anyway, but all the touching, the patiently explaining things. And there’s no way I want a head scan, I’m far too claustrophobic for that.
I feel very alone in my battle. Although I’m visited often and people express concern. I’m learning to appreciate that people care about me.
But I feel like a burden. The other teacher is carrying my workload. I can see she’s tired. I miss my students. My schedule, my routine. I miss my freedom. I miss sitting with a cold beer soaking up the town.
I’m in constant pain. My tiredness is all consuming. I feel weak and miserable. I’m letting my team and students down.
As the painkillers wear off, I feel every hurt, every part of torn skin, the tenderness of my head.
I sit for small periods to talk to the staff, but again, it’s exhausting.
I hate feeling vulnerable. I really enjoyed being independent and free. I know it will come again! But I need to find confidence in the bike again.
I’m also struck by the intensity of the nightmares and the feeling of being vulnerable and the predisposition of nightmares and panic attacks. I don’t want to explain this to anyone. So I manage it alone and I feel very ashamed. People can’t understand my paranoia. My reluctance to see a dr. My fear and my need to know exactly what’s going on every second.
So without much choice I’m off to PP on Friday. My wounds need cleaning again, so I guess it will be good to get them checked over by a more known dr and there won’t be a language barrier.
I just wish I hadn’t come off in the first place. I should have taken a rest. I should have checked the bike over.
At least I was wearing my helmet – or I most certainly wouldn’t be updating my blog.
I still love my home away from home so much
Just need to get fixed up so I can go back to living in the present and stop all of the anxiety and nightmares from the past.