Welcome to Mexico!
The first several months in Mexico were every color of the emotional rainbow, everything from exhilaration and a sense of accomplishment at the top to grief and depression at the bottom.
But before I get into all that, do you need a refill of coffee? Tea? No? Ok, then I will get started. Get comfy!
Oh, thank God!
The first thing I felt when we arrived in Mexico was an overwhelming sense of relief that we all survived the journey. For several days, I thanked God daily that we were safe and we were together.
That gratitude was soon overwhelmed by a monsoon of change and challenge. Hubs and I both knew only a little Spanish so not surprisingly even the simplest task became a challenge. Answering the employee at Walmart when they asked questions as they were scanning our groceries was impossible. Making a phone call to anyone locally was, at best, a difficult and drawn-out conversation, if we could keep them on the phone while we used the translator app to figure out what they had said to us.
At one point, I remember thinking, ¨What in the hell would we do if we had a medical emergency?”
And then we did.
One evening, while fixing himself a glass of tea, my husband Steve collapsed in our kitchen. He was able to get up and into a chair, with some help but was clearly not ok. We ordered an Uber and went to a nearby hospital. The staff took excellent care of Steve and he was home within a couple of hours. Fortunately, the issue was resolved with a required medication adjustment. Our medical emergency turned out to be easily managed. Whew!
But wait, there´s more…
Unfortunately, that was not our last health crisis. Trudy the calico became incredibly ill and with the help of some other ex-pats, we found an amazing emergency vet clinic. The vet staff fought hard to save Trudy and showed incredible patience as they trained us to feed and medicate our decidedly frail calico through her newly installed feeding tube. For the next four weeks, our lives revolved around an insane schedule of feeding and giving meds at all hours of the day and night. Despite all our best efforts, and the prayers of cat-lover friends throughout the western hemisphere, Trudy could not get healthy. In the way only a calico can, she drew her line in the sand and and made it clear she was done fighting. September 15th, we took Trudy back to the vet and with their help, said goodbye.
That was rock bottom.
As always happens when a family member dies, the grief was palpable and our apartment was full of spaces Trudy used to occupy. I filled my Facebook newsfeed with dark and heavy anguish. My depression and anxiety had escalated to the point where I knew I had to get help. Looking back now, I don’t think Trudy’s death caused the depression so much as compounded it. I guess I think of it as being the perfect emotional storm.
Course correction.
I was too proud to ask our ex-pat friends to recommend a good psychiatrist, and decided to search on my own. I found a doctor who was able to help get me back on track. That was in October and life has improved pretty steadily since then. Remember that overwhelming sense of relief I described earlier? That gratitude has returned.
Our first four months were tough.
Even at the darkest moments after Trudy’s death, though, I never once thought of going back to the United States. Mexico was (and is) home and after working so hard to adjust, it never occurred to me to give up. And I am so glad we stayed. We have continued to develop strong ties to our new community and have made good friends.
Say Goodnight Sue.
Before you close out of here, I would just like to post a Public Service Announcement: If you use 2-step verification for your email account, go check the settings RIGHT NOW. Make sure the email address, phone number, or other contact information to verify your identity is correct. In a future installment, I will describe my latest misadventures in tech. Actually, that may require several installments. But for now, I’ll say goodnight, good health. Hasta luego!
