Eye patches and the english curriculum

Again my body let me down. On Monday afternoon as we jumped on the bus back into town I felt something in my eye, and for the next 16 hours it weeped, swelled and continued to hurt. Tara was kind enough to make me an eye patch but by Tuesday morning I was tired of people thinking I was winking at them (I didn't actually wear the eye patch, its actually impossible to see someone with an eye patch and not think 'pirate' arrr!) so I decided to go to the doctor.

Now, for those of you that don't know. I have a bachelor in Biomedicine and I had every intention to go on to do medicine and become a doctor (funny how things change...) so even on a good day I am critical and skeptical of even the best doctor.

Gitta (project manager) and I arrive at the clinic. We are ushered into a dark room where my basic medical history is taken by a lady in a white jacket, a nurse maybe? Me llamo Tina (my name is Tina), no, Tina, not China.

Next we get ushered into another room, equally dark, and wait. After some time the doctor arrives. He is an older man dressed in all white to match his hair. He shakes my hand and observes that yes my eye is quite swollen. After shining an LED torch in my eyes he concludes again that indeed, the eyelid is swollen and ushers us back to the first room, where now an elderly lady is going through the information process. I am asked to lie down on a bench behind a curtain. As I do so I see an ultrasound machine. Now, Gitta had warned me that this doctor really LOVES his ultrasound machine, performing ultrasound on anyone that stays still for long enough.

So as I lie there I'm told to shut my eyes and I feel the cold squirt of the ultrasound gel, another little cushion and the ultrasound probe. I hear him explain to Gitta that I have conjunctavitis (which I know to be inflammation of the white part of the eye, the conjuncta) and the ultrasound is proving that I have no foreign objects in my eye.

So once he has had his fun I am given a wad of toilet paper and told to clean up and once again ushered into the second consultation room where the doctor kindly explains that yesterday, when something went into my eye, I would have reacted and in rubbing my eye I cut my eye and my eye lid and now both are infected. As he explained I should avoid the sun ("walk in the shadow" he said in his broken English), he also told me I was not to work with the kids for at least 2 days as it is very contagious. When he told me I wasn't allowed to go to school I nearly cried, as my eyes welled up I thought, if I cry I'll blame it on the infection, right? I had such a good week planned with the kids, what about my art lesson? We were going to make stockings. And the Christmas tree I was going to put up and decorate. Didn't he understand?

While my mind raced, he wrote a script for a variety of antibiotics, 4 in total, and told me to treat the eye lid infection I needed an injection in my bottom. To which I merely shook my head. No. Way.

So, after the 'nurse' came back in to translate his script and instructions we were sent on our way. I had antibiotic eye drops from Australia and spent the day reading and generally feeling sorry for myself.

By Wednesday morning I was determined to still give the kids everything, I'm not going to let a little 'conjunctavitis' get me down (I was skeptic, and still am, I have had conjunctavitis before and know the symptoms, this was different and 65% of cases heal without medical attention within two days and only a small portion are bacterial, but hey, I'm not actually a doctor). So while the other were at school teaching I was sitting at home, in my room writing out a 50 week year English and Art curriculum for the kindergardeners.

And I did it. And what a process it was. At that age they don't know how to write so english has to be word association and I linked art to the weeks english classes where possible. I am even now creating stencils for the various art lessons, from making hats with numbers on them to creating a fruit tree to reinforce the names of fruit. I said I would give these kids everything, and now they have a steady curriculum for future volunteers to follow to ensure that in the time they are in this school they are getting taught a consistent curriculum, no longer at the whim of the volunteers discretion.

So, I guess, not all was lost. And today, a national holiday, and day 3 of my pseudo weekend I wandered Arequipa, visiting the beautiful cathedral in the centre of town and shopping for Christmas gifts.

And tomorrow, I finally get to go back to school. And I can't wait. My eye is all healed and I'm itching to get that Christmas tree up, make stockings and give out hugs and high fives.

I. Can't. Wait.

Eye patches and the english curriculum