If you have read this blog with any regularity over the course of the last year and a half you certainly would have noticed that this experience has been a substantially freaky roller coaster of a ride.
There have been friends attacked with machete's, multiple land mine explosions, a friend pulled out of the Peace Corps of all things to return to the "$%^&@!$" War, now my current state of being, then add on top of my injury, my tree nursery all dead from chickens, and a very good friend and rasta-mentor Patrick passing away after in a tragic motorcycle accident.
Yet here I am, for better or worse, at least life is interesting.
No way to putt putt about it so I'll just drop the bomb.
Ten days ago I had an accident and the result of this incident has led me today's initial diagnoses of having at least one if not more broken vertebrae in my back, and god knows what else.
Before you become overwhelmed with sympathetic grief, you should know its not that bad.
Well it is, but the Doctor said of this type of serious injury it is the least worst of its sort.
This sucks and I couldn't imagine it being any worse, but it could be.
Of course I am currently writing this experience from the confines of a wheelchair in the Niamey clinic, which has become a familiar home away from home, away from home, away from home.
I have spent the better part of the day with our doctor recounting in detail my last 10 days, after the incident, which has left him absolutely dumbfounded as to how I managed not only to injure my back, but then return to my village and resume work prior to leaving for Niamey and seeking medical treatment.