So, I am feeling overly exposed to the uncertainty of hurricanes, train crashes, market crashes, embassy bombings, Latin American drug cartels, and an infuriating political election. There doesn't seem to be much we can do from here, except watch TV and watch for the arrival of our absentee ballots.

This morning I was exposed in another way, at Miss Peggy's clinic. As my follow-up trauma to last spring's malaria, I have developed some sort of heat rash on my back and neck. I waited in the clinic for my "rapid care" appointment (it shortened the wait from three hours to an hour and a half) and eventually I was ushered, rapidly, to a back room. The dental room. Where an older gentleman was having his teeth done. "This is the only space available. Sit here," said the visiting volunteer doctor pointing to the undulating dental chair.
I did, and soon I was also lifting up my shirt and describing what medications I take, right in front of this other guy. I don't have alot to hide and, with two babies, not alot of modesty either, but still, my rash deserved more, and this guy deserved to learn less!
Then I tried to pull all this rambling together:
One of the greatest exposures we face here on a third-world island is health care, and health emergencies, and we are so grateful for Miss Peggy's clinic. Here is an individual who is making a big difference, whether it's a real crisis or a sunburn because your parents forgot to put your bathing suits on you.
It's hard to extrapolate the little life lessons that swirl around a woman like Miss Peggy. Her efforts humble me each time I step into Clinica Esperanza and see the hopes and fears of unknown neighbors that have lived entire lifetimes with no preventative care. Who am I to take up the time of volunteering medical professionals, surrounded by dozens of truly needy people, with an annoying heat rash. My exposure, really, is so very little.
But today I'm back to bare naked. Mike took a hard fall this morning on slippery stairs after a big rain storm. Thinks he may have broken a rib. The swelling has started to go down, but the extra-extra strength Tylenols don't seem to do much. I have a hunch we'll be going back to Clinica Esperanza tomorrow, humbled by how quickly your exposure can change.