Día de la Mujer

I've been struggling the past few months to find a way to transition from last year's updates about my illness and recovery from GBS back to stories of life and work here in Peru, and in the busy first two months back in Arequipa I have found the task a little too overwhelming to take on.  But today, March 8th, is International Women's Day, and what better way to begin again than by celebrating and giving thanks for the incredible women I spend my days working with here in Peru?

When I first landed in Arequipa in 2006, I came with the idea that I was here to do something for someone, to give back through service. With that mindset, what I saw when I met the women of the Ñaña knitting cooperative were people to be helped. And I was, I decided, the one to do the helping.

Life, thank goodness, is a little more complicated than that. 

My simplistic view of the way things were was soon turned on its head as I got to know the knitters and learned more about their lives.  It is true that the Ñañas struggle with great adversity every day.  Some experience life in a constant state of uncertainty, and all deal with inadequate resources, limited options and a good deal of heartache. However, I quickly learned that they do not exist simply as victims, but are instead complex, resourceful, generous women with seemingly boundless reserves of strength and humor.  

Pulling each other to their feet to dance the wititi; speaking sincere words of consolation and encouragement to a recently widowed member of the group; laughing, gossiping or giving advice over their knitting; 

patiently providing knitting lessons to a visitor (in this case, John); 

watching out for each others' children so younger mothers can concentrate on learning a new stitch; proudly introducing me to their traditions and homelands;

piling plates high with potatoes, chuño, cuy, and fava beans and passing a shared bottle of Inca Kola after christening a new roof — these are just a few of the images that come to mind now when I think of the Ñañas. 

Over the years, these women have continued to challenge me and my assumptions of how we relate to one another in a world based in deep inequalities.  I have, as often as not, been the one cared for, the one shared with, the one taught by the very women I came to serve.  

I have come to them in need of consolation or encouragement as often as they have unloaded their worries on me.  They have shown me patience, and demanded patience from me in return.  When I became ill and could no longer stand on my own, they lifted me to my feet and carried my weight on their shoulders.  They've taught me the importance of laughter and forgiveness and, perhaps more than anything, that we must always pull each other back up when we fall and keep fighting.  Fighting and laughing.  

I have been blessed over and over again in my life with amazing women — the mother, sister, grandmothers, and aunts who were mine from the moment I was born, and the friends, tías, abuelas, mamás and ñañas I have found in the years since — and I am grateful every day for their examples of strength, humor, love and chispa.

Feliz Día de la Mujer!

The Score

From the first day I was in the hospital, my nurses, therapists and doctors tried to make it very clear that recovery wouldn't be a straight shot, but would have ups and downs and plateaus along the way.  I always nodded yes, but secretly I wondered if I might be able to get around all that and just continue on a smooth, direct route to recovery.  The answer: A resounding no.  I'm afraid that's just not how it works, kiddo.

To be clear, there haven't been any huge setbacks so far.  Overall progress has continued at a steady pace and I'm definitely stronger now than when I arrived home two weeks ago, but it still feels like my life has become an unending game of tug-o-war against Guillain-Barré, where if I pull too hard or try to extend beyond my limits, Guillain-Barré pulls back and leaves me wiping the dirt off my knees.

There was a day early on when I woke up feeling strong and thought, "Yes!  Today I am strong!  I will completely rebuild my hamstrings!" I strapped on my little ankle weights, laid down on my stomach and proceeded to do all the kicks I could, then tried the different bridging exercises my therapist had shown me and threw in a few bicycles at the end for good measure.  After I managed to get myself up off the floor, I showered, had lunch at a friend's house, came home, and then passed out on the couch with headaches for the next day and a half.  GBS: 1, Emily: 0.

Some days it's pure foolishness; other days it's the heat, or lack of sleep, or a failure to reach sufficient calorie intake that makes things that seemed easy the day before suddenly feel enormously tiring.  Endurance is the name of the game, and when, as one therapist explained it, you've got less gas in your tank, you've got to be smart in the way you use it, but that's hard when you don't know how much gas you've got on any given day and something that might have been within your modest limits the day before is just not a possibility the next.

If past performance is any indicator, I'm probably going to keep losing some battles for a while as I  figure things out, but never doubt it: this war is mine in the long haul.

Phase Three: Running Forward and Looking Back

Today I go home.  After two weeks in acute care and a month of rehab, I am now able to transport myself short distances with a walker and climb stairs with the help of a railing or an arm.  I can bathe myself with minimal assistance and get myself on and off the toilet on my own.  My speech is intelligible and the smile, though crooked, is definitely a smile.  I never dreamed I would be here so soon.

The big mile markers are going to be few and far between from here on out, and progress will be more incremental and measured in increased endurance and strength as I gradually develop the stamina to return to normal.  There won't be many exciting breakthroughs to report on a daily basis, but there will be time to sit on the porch and do some mulling over of this time spent between my two worlds.

A lot of this will be backtracking to things I experienced before I was strong enough to write or had enough time to process, and it will be as much for me as anyone else.  I bend my knees now without thinking, and walking will soon be the same, so there's an urgency to get these past weeks down in writing before forgetfulness sets in and the wonder fades away.

But no more sitting in front of the computer today.  It's time to celebrate!