Frequently I see chickens on the side of the road as I bicycle between my village and anywhere else within 20 km. I've had several near misses but they usually end with the chicken escaping harm in a flurry of chicken feathers and squaks. I often envisioned what would happen if I did actually hit a chicken. In my imagination I feel a subtle bump in the road and see me eating chicken for dinner. This past Monday I got to experience it for real.
Gina and I were riding our bicycle back from our Boma to our village on Monday. As usual, I took advantage of one of the several hills to avoid pedaling and enjoy the speed on the way back. Near the bottom of the hill, when I was near my fastest speed, a chicken trying to cross the road (insert joke reference here) ran into my front wheel and caused me to fall over, land on my left knee and elbow, and slide about 3 meters. When I first saw that chicken I was sure it would do what all the other chickens had previously done along the side of the road. But this one was persistent in its search for the other side of the road. I screamed in surprise more than pain when I landed on the ground, then yelled in pain as the road rash on my elbow and knee started telling me they were there. The villagers were startled to hear someone yell like I did, but they were largely yells of frustration, though I won't deny the pain. I tried to walk off the pain for a moment but realized I should just rest for a moment and survey the damage. A villager or two immediately wanted to help me get up or try to clean my would with a piece of grass, but Gina shooed them away and started supplying me with alcohol wipes and bandaids to cover the wounds. After realizing riding a bike was too much for my swelling knee I hitched in the back of a pick-up to get home. The first thing my host family father did when he saw it was touch it, to find out whether a white person bled real blood or to assess the swelling, I don't know, but I had to shoo him away too.
At the request of the Peace Corps medical officer I went to Solwezi two days later to get an X-ray and general check up too make sure my assessment of "It's fine, just needs some rest" was accurate. I went into St. John's clinic in Solwezi, the northwest province capital, about a 4.5 hour drive from my village. After getting some standard diagnostics and a quick visit with a woman doctor (a nice surprise in a society where women's equality in the rural Zambian villages is probably equivalent to 1920's United States) I went into the X-ray room to verify her "it's fine, you just need to rest" diagnosis. I saw an X-ray machine probably as old as I was pointing down onto a well-laquered wooden table. As I sat with my legs stretched out on the table, with no lead-coat protection, I got two pictures of my leg. After a moment the radiologist (also a woman) came out and said that she only sees soft tissue in the X-ray so she would have to do it again. Two more X-rays, and a couple more minutes, and she comes out of her dark room to say that she has the opposite problem now, and I saw an X-ray that was all black. She made a comment about how it appeared that I was very slim but must have dense tissues. She said it as if it was meant as a compliment. So before she set me up for another couple of shots she pulled out a lead coat for me to wear. Apparently in Zambia they guess that 4 X-rays in a day is okay, but 5 requires some safety precautions. So another couple of shots and this time one can see my bones in the X-ray. The doctor checked it out and confirmed that there was no fractures of any kind. When I told them I would need a copy for the Peace Corps doctor in Lusaka, I was told I would have to go back to get another X-ray set since they do not have any way to make duplicates of X-rays. With a feeling more of amusement than impatience, I got on the table again to be zapped 2 more times (with lead coat protection). I've learned in Zambia this is a much better way to deal with these kind of situations, but I do wonder what a radiologist at John's Hopkins would think of those 4 X-rays without lead-coat protection. So now I'm relaxing at the Peace Corps house in Solwezi with Ibuprofen, ice, and elevation until I can bend my knee enough to get into a squat position without too much pain. Squatting is a prerequisite for living in a Zambian rural village...
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