Accidental Akronite

On July 1, Macy turned six years old. Given that I just came home from Guatemala, the day passed relatively quietly — with the requisite barking at the mail carrier, of course. So we celebrated tonight with some Frosty Paws and a solid game of tennis ball which, for Macy, is far more enticing than eating.

While Alice and Macy are the same breed, they couldn’t be more different. Where Alice will eat anything, Macy is highly specific in her cravings — cheese, food that’s not at the bottom of the dog food bin, and chicken-flavored Chew-eez. Where Alice devours food without sniffing it or chewing it, Macy has to investigate everything handed to her or placed in her bowl. She’s been known to go one or two days without eating anything.

Where Alice is personality-plus and confident, Macy is the shy, quiet type. (Unless she’s barking at the aforementioned mail carrier). She’s our little wallflower when it comes to meeting new people. I’m sure if there were doggie dances, we’d find her sitting behind the bleachers by herself. Where Alice doesn’t mind having an ever-present blotch of dirt on her snout or mud caked to her paws and underbelly, Macy goes to great lengths to keep herself well-groomed. I kid you not when I say she never needs her nails trimmed. We’re not sure how she keeps them so incredibly manicured - it’s her little secret and we’re not about to take it away from her.

Where Alice expects to be loved and adored by all who cross her path (seriously, she’s the most manipulative and comical dog we’ve ever owned), Macy is usually amazed that someone actually loves and adores here. Our “Macerpants” (her nickname which started out as “Pants” - a British term for crazy) was severely abused before she was rescued by the Aussie Rescue & Placement Helpline. When her foster parents brought her for a home visit, she wouldn’t look at either of us. She barely knew what to do on a leash and her beautiful face was panic-stricken. Her foster parents had rescued her at a Banfield Clinic one day before she would have been put down, and they assured us she’d come around. But it would take time. 

A lot of time, actually.

For the first few weeks (when her name was still Dixie), she wouldn’t go near Dave. She took out her anxiety on our furniture and various other chewable things in our house. She forgot she was housebroken and decided to make our sofa her personal toilet. She clung to me and tried desperately to win over Alice who was, at the time, recovering from hip dysplasia surgery. About a month after we adopted Macy, we loaded up a motorhome and treked across the state of Kentucky on some money from a literary grant I had been awarded. We were probably a tad crazy putting two dogs and ourselves in 28 feet of steel-on-wheels for a week but it gave Macy time to bond with us and show her that she could trust us. As for Alice, it was the best week of her life. She loves being in a car and the motorhome was like heaven to her - maybe even better than a lifetime supply of treats.

Since then, Macy has adopted me as her number one human pal. She follows me everywhere and sorely missed me while I was in Guatemala. She can be a handful but, then again, so can I. Like owner, like dog.

Macy is our beauty queen - a walk doesn’t go by without someone commenting on how pretty she is. Look at that blue eye, they say! Alice gets props for being cute and funny but Macy is our head-turner. She’s sleeping off her Frosty Paws right now and probably dreaming of catching tennis balls or scoring some shredded cheese from me while I’m in the kitchen or maybe finally capturing that evil mail carrier. Whatever the dream, we’re just glad that ARPH rescued our Macerpants and that we’re the ones who got to give her a second chance to have years of happy thoughts.

2 Comments »

The final tally of people helped is around 22,000. We held a steady pace today and then we packed up all the leftover glasses for the Lions Club to use. Tonight is a special celebration dinner and then we’ll be heading for Guatemala City for one night before flying back to the Estados Unidos.

This has been an incredible experience from start to finish. I’m fortunate to work for a company that allows its associates to share their hearts and talents with so many people who could otherwise not afford eye care and eyewear. And I’ve been fortunate to meet so many wonderful people. I’m sure every mission team thinks they have the best mission team ever but I truly believe we have a seriously awesome team. After many of us were shut out from helping last year in Argentina, we were all ready to make this the best experience we could.  Complaints were rare even as people started feeling ill or tired. Smiles were plenty, as were hugs and encouraging words.

Which, speaking of, we were all blessed a kajillion times by the people we helped even though they are the ones who need our blessings and support more. And we received plenty of kisses from happy customers like the one above. No matter how young or old, you could always tell when the person was seeing more clearly than ever before and that is something very special to witness.

Once I’m home safe and sound, I’ll write up a nice summary and share more photos. Gotta vamos to my room for a shower!

1 Comment »

With one clinic day left, we’ve already broken the goal of giving 20,000 people the gift of sight. It happened this afternoon around 2 p.m. Today we helped 3,374 - another record day. We’re all a little tired, a little punchy and really missing our families and friends at this point. But there’s always time for some complete silliness. For example ….

… I meant to tell some man that the reason he couldn’t see super clear was “por las gotas” (because of the drops that dilate the pupils). Well, here’s what I said: “por las gatos”. That’d be “because of the cats. So all day long my translators (pictured above) made fun of me and as each person came up they’d remind me that this person couldn’t see because of the cats. Apparently, I stick my foot in my mouth regardless of the language I’m speaking. Good to know.

We also had lots of kids today with very high Rxs. So so many that have never seen anything. The smiles on their faces when they see clearly for the first time are priceless. I am so fortunate to see and experience that moment.

I’m getting pushed out of the computer room and up to the card game. I’m not proud or anything but I’ve won two nights in a row and I plan on this being the third night. My family’s tradition of card playing has come in handy. Thanks mom (and dad)!

3 Comments »

Day Six and Day Five of clinic were hopping - more than 6,000 people in two days. They just keep a’comin and we just keep giving the gift of sight. I switched between traffic control and dispensing both days which are both super fun areas to work and observe everything that’s happening in clinic.

There are so many great stories to tell but I’ll back up to our weekend where we got a rest from clinic and toured a little bit of the country. We all needed a break to recharge our batteries. On Saturday we hit a coffee plantation and the market here in Coban. Great stuff.

Then we went to a nearby town where we were treated to folk dancing in the street and then lots of fun at lunch. This is the place where lots of the school kids decided that my hair was something that MUST be touched. Most of the kids here have poker-straight hair and I’m sure they thought I was some sort of weirdo with all of my curly hair. The girls crowded around me just to stroke my hair. The girls pictured above were about five percent of the crowd around me. One little girls kept kissing me and one of the Lions Club volunteers had to pull me away and escort me to the bus.

Sunday we went to an awesome ecological park where most of us did the “canopy” - a zip line that took us above the trees and over some waterfalls. Incredible views. I also touched sacred water in the park, a place where the Mayans used to come for ceremonies so now I’m all holy and stuff. 

So, here are some other bullet points on the past few days:

* I ate potato chips for the first time since I left home - that’d be nine days for folks playing along at home. This might be a record except for those few times during Lent when I’d give up stuff as a kid.

* I’ve eaten beets on a tortilla twice in three days. This is probably a record-breaking number of beets eaten in my lifetime.

* I have ginormous mosquito bites and we’ve killed spiders the size of my head. Okay, maybe that’s exaggerating but the bugs are super-sized here and it seems like they sort of look at you and say “I dare you” just about when you’re ready to smash them.

* I’m living in what seems to feel like a moist towelette. Everything is damp from humidity. My hair is, of course, as big as the bugs. Just wait until you see the photos.

* One of the Lions Club volunteers is a fellow writer. He’s retired and published a book and brought a copy for me. He and his wife have invited Dave and I to come visit them in Guatemala and brush up on our Spanish.

* I’m starting to respond in Spanish. Someone asks me a yes or no question and I say “Si” as in “yes.” However, the translators laugh and tease me when I screw up words. They get a kick out of my accent even though Ohioans don’t have accents.

* I played euchre last night and Danielle and I kicked butt. We’ve got a re-match tonight. Card playing is a good release after a long day at clinic.

Wednesday and Thursday are our last days. The time has gone so quickly and we’ve only scratched the surface on the number of people we can help. More later!

No Comments »

Dad’s glasses found a home at Friday’s clinic with a 60-year-old man named Domingo. Teammate Mitch - who found a match for Erin’s uncle’s glasses on Thursday - called me over around 11 a.m. to let me know he had a match for me. He said it was closer than those in the system so I stepped out of my station in traffic control (which was pretty fun) and took dad’s glasses out to the dispensing tent.

One of the translators called his name and he immediately stepped forward. Of course, I was already crying. Erin and Steve were on hand to take photos of the moment. I put the glasses on Domingo and they didn’t even need adjusting. They fit perfectly, just like they were made for him. I asked Elder Robbins (one of the Morman kids who is translating for us) if he could tell Domingo that he was wearing a very special pair of glasses, that my dad passed away two years ago and he was loved very much, and that I was honored to be giving him these glasses. 

Domingo just looked at me and smiled. He seemed shy and a little confused by the whole thing. I mean, here’s some American girl bawling as she’s putting glasses on his face, possibly his first pair of glasses ever. It had to be a little weird for him. Then we took some photos and he shook my hand, thanked me, and gave me a pat on the shoulder before leaving. It was one heck of a special moment for me and I hope Domingo wears those glasses for a long time to come.

The other tear-jerker of the day happened while I was in traffic control. It’s essentially the “herding cats” job of the mission. People come out of the doctor area and you have to tell them to go one of two ways depending on what the docs prescribed. It definitely challenges what very little Spanish I can get out. The translators are a huge help in this area. Anyhow, the cool part of the job is you get to see each person come through to the docs. Yesterday, there were a few tough cases - a man with a major infection, a young man with a macular hole (basically his eye was dead and draining fluid), another 18-year-old who was diagnosed with glaucoma (he will eventually go blind), and then there was Oswald.

I saw him coming through the line and figured he was about 17 or 18. You could tell he could barely see. He was holding on to his mother’s arm and she was guiding him. His eyes looked slightly crossed and he just looked sad. This was shortly after I gave out Dad’s glasses so I was still a little emotional. He ended up with Dr. John who spent a good deal of time with him. I could tell Dr. J was concerned about him and getting a little choked up too. Then he came to me and we helped him out the door to wait for glasses which we weren’t going to have. He was minus 18 in one eye and minus 20 in the other.

Darcy was in IMS and got his ticket. She found a pair of minus 10s and came over to Dr. John to let him know. I went outside with them to see Oswald’s reaction when he put the glasses on. They were as good as we could do here. He seemed a little happier and Dr. John explained that we probably gave him an extra foot of vision in front of him, as evidenced when he went to read something. Oswald was able to hold the paper a little farther away. He touched Darcy and John so much that they have “adopted” him and will make a pair of glasses to his exact Rx back in the states and send them to him here.

And then, my translator Grecia spent her last day with me. She won’t be back next week. We traded emails and I hope she’ll keep in touch. She’s a super 16-year-old. It’s amazing how respectful she was with all of the elderly people. American kids could take a lesson from her. She made me some candy (I think her grandmother actually made it) and brought it to me as a gift and told me she was going to miss me. More tears. You become super attached to the people translating for you because they’re really doing the hard work. Though Grecia didn’t let me get away with being lazy. She always made me do as much of the talking as I was able and then she’d correct me when I said something wrong.

On a happier note, we helped 3,268 people on Friday. Today (Saturday) is a free day and we’re heading to a coffee plantation. Hurry - we can all use the weekend to recharge our emotional batteries.

1 Comment »