All's well that ends well

Tonight it felt as though the bottom of my lip was a gaping chasm, so I decided to go to my friends at The Surgery for a second opinion (and since it was night, I wore jeans! Such a rebel!). My friend Patcee was here anyway to spend the night, so she navigated some back roads that I haven't learned, but were helpful. 

The nurse and the doctor were lovely, and both assured me that it's just a superficial cut, and that the worst part of the injury is the bruise on the inside of my lip. 

To top it off, they refused to charge me! Despite the pain and embarrassment (I have scrapes on my chin, top lip, and nose), God's grace has abounded, for which I am immensely grateful. 

Falled down and goed boom

Mom - I'm FINE. 

Today I managed to trip and fall on the stone pathway to the staff restooms, and primarily land on my face, with my hands and knee taking only some of the brunt. The majority of it landed on my upper lip and incisors, one of which is now chipped.

Being a woman, and therefore vain, my first concern was aesthetics. My lip looked like a divot was taken out of it, and a slightly chipped tooth is still chipped. 

I reported my injury to the dean, who immediately sent me to the clinic. The receptionist immediately sent me back to be cleaned up without checking me in (I assume because I looked a hot mess what with trying not to cry over the pain of my wounded pride. A nurse cleaned me up, then the doctor was going to stitch my lip, but decided not to so that the lip would heal in a proper line. I'm not entirely convinced this is going to happen, but hey. 

As I type, I'm lying on a bed in the clinic, resting. I called the dean to report what happened, and after she discerned that I'll live, she said something about this happening when she needs my sharp mind. :)  My mind is fine; it's the rest of my head that's causing me concern. 

Manna sometimes looks like chicken soup

I am still down with the crud, and on my way to a meeting, stopped by Mary Jane's to back out of going with her to see her daughter in "Fiddler on the Roof" (which HIGHLY annoys me, as I've been looking forward to it for a couple weeks).  I then passed by Karl, a Canadian missionary, and chatted with him for a few minutes. 

Karl must have mentioned me to his wife, Arleen, because she just called to say she had made some chicken noodle soup, and to ask if I'd like some. Yes, please!!

While I'm grateful that we have access to decent medicines here (albeit slightly unfamiliar), one of the challenges of living here is not having access to a comfort food that you want while ill, like chicken noodle soup. 

And then The Lord provided. Hallelujah!

Unexpected question

I went to the clinic today because the cold that my niece/almost goddaughter shared with me has developed into something more exciting (and I'm preaching on Sunday), and in addition to the usual "you'll be fine," the doctor asked me whether I'd dewormed lately. 

Well, no, I haven't. So amongst the other goodies I brought home, there's a deworming pill. Just one will do it, I suppose. I know that worms happen here, and it's not a big deal (unless it becomes a big deal), but it's just a reality that I've not yet encountered first-hand. 

Working on a building

Progress marches on... This is the beginnings of a new, and desperately needed, lecture block. In the background is the Honours College, where I live (though my flat it'd visible from here). 

I'm thrilled that we're getting the infrastructure we need, though I'm sorry that the old Kids Care Center was razed. The Center is now at the other end of campus, so I can no longer hear the children playing. 

Being quoted

I just learned that one of the students quoted my MDiv dissertation in his dissertation. I find this simultaneously honoring, humbling, and horrifying! 

Another student told me that he had read my dissertation (for his field work report, I had told him that he writes the way he talks (which most of us do), and he came back after reading it and told me the same), but to be quoted is a bit extreme. I'm going to have to look at his to see what he took!

"Have any bombs?"

Today I decided to check out the snazzy new-ish mall in Kampala, called The Village.  It's absolutely huge, and has one of Kampala's three KFCs (Yes.  For real.  And no, I didn't go in.).

I've noticed that since the World Cup bombing in 2010, most large venues (like shopping centers, and sometimes churches) will search your car and/or your person upon entry.  When approach supermarkets, I open my purse out of habit, because the guards may want to look.  Sometimes they don't, because white women generally don't profile as bombers, but one never knows.

So, when I drove into this snazzy new-ish mall, naturally, there was a gate with a plethora of guards.  I rolled down the windows and unlocked the doors in advance of their search, and greeted them.  They also wished me a good morning, then proceeded to open my door and ask, "Any bombs in here?"

I assured him there were not, and he announced that he would check the boot (trunk).  While I'm accustomed to being searched, that's the first time I've ever been asked point-blank whether I have a bomb on me.

Exams are afoot!

Exams begin tomorrow, which always being excitement to campus. 

Please pray for two of my students, who are unwell. Robert is in the hospital; I'm not quite sure why. It's an abdominal issue, and he is experiencing pain where he had surgery some time ago, that all I know. Obed is on medication (perhaps malaria) and is resting. 

Please also pray for me, as when lecturers fail to come invigilate, I get called to substitute. We also have one lecturer studying abroad, and I'm have a sneaking suspicion that I will be expected to mark his exams as well.