The Mexican Airport Fiasco

As I take a much needed break from grading, I'll take this time to write the next installment in the embarrassing fainting stories series.

First, a little background. A few years ago I went to school for a month in Guadalajara, Mexico to finish my undergrad degree in Spanish. Being vegetarian, it is always a little concerning to go and stay in foreign countries at the mercy of other people preparing your food. "Oh, you don't eat meat. OK. Chicken?" 

Sigh. 

This time however, I was very lucky. I even had another vegetarian roommate. The house mother I stayed with was an incredible cook and did not have any trouble making delicious vegetarian meals for us. Therefore, we ate at home for every meal of every day in veggie bliss.

Then, the day before we were scheduled to leave, the school held a banquet for the students and served lunched. My roommate and I decided to forgo the delicious meal I'm sure would have been waiting for us at home and eat at the banquet. This turned out to be quite the unfortunate decision. 

Since the main dishes contained meat one type or the other, our lunch consisted of corn tortillas and guacamole. That seems harmless enough, wouldn't you say? 

That night at dinner, even though I was presented with incredible home-made tamales, I just didn't have much of an appetite and could only manage to pick at them. I was tired and just felt... strange. I went to bed and at some point awoke with the most excruciating pain in my gut I think I've ever had. Without giving too much detail, I was making frequent, unpleasant trips to the bathroom all night long. There was one point when, after leaving the bathroom, I was so weak and light-headed I couldn't even make it back to the bedroom. So I lay there, sprawled out on the floor outside the bathroom door. All I could think about was how I had a plane back home to catch in the morning and that if I was going to die of e coli - dang it - I was going to do it in my country!

The next morning, slightly better but still suffering, I managed to pull myself out of bed and as I hobbled out into the hall I saw my roommate, looking about like I felt. Funny thing was, she had also been in and out of the bathroom all night with the same affliction and somehow we never crossed paths. It's a good thing too. It probably would have been a little alarming to see me passed out on the floor outside the bathroom...

Somehow we managed to pull ourselves together a little after being infused with Gatorade by our dear house mother. We even got dressed, put on make-up, did our hair, and looked pretty darn good if I do say so myself. At least, good for a couple of pale, slightly green, dizzy girls. 

We packed, said our good-byes, and got into the taxi. We did it! We were going home! 


Once at the airport, I met up with my group going back to Little Rock, and my roommate went to her check-in line. I was not feeling great of course, but I was considerably better than I had been the night before so I thought things were going OK. So there I was, standing with our group getting our boarding passes and checking in luggage when that all too familiar feeling starts creeping over me. I could almost feel the blood drain from my head. Then came the yellow dots creeping over my vision - threatening to take over my world. 

They won. 

Things went totally dark. 

The next thing I knew,  I was lying on the ground in front of the ticket counter. Voices were drifting in and out of coherence. And then I began to make out the concerned faces of my group looming over my head. 


Then, to my utter dismay, I saw two uniformed men coming towards me holding...oh no...they didn't bring...yes they did...a stretcher. 

Seriously. 

You mean to tell me that they are going to lay me down on that thing and carry me out of here in front of all these staring faces! The freak American girl. They probably all assumed I'd had too much tequila. Gringa. 


And so, after much prodding from my group members, I reluctantly crawled on the stretcher and let two men carry me out of the airport. Thank goodness for a kind, caring member of our group, Caleb, who came with me. They took me to their small station where they had me lay down. 

As they tried to ask me questions about what had happened and what my symptoms were, it was becoming apparent that along with my dignity, I had also lost any ability to speak or comprehend Spanish. Again, I was so thankful for Caleb. He talked to them for me and then explained things back to me. Unfortunately, what he was translating was that they wanted to give me an IV.  

Really?, I thought. Are you TRYING to make me pass out again?! 

Luckily, everyone around me was much more sensible than I was at the moment and eventually convinced me that it would be the best thing as I was so dehydrated. So while squeezing all life out of poor Caleb's hand, they started an IV. Very quickly, I started to feel much, much better. 

Though I was extremely concerned about missing my flight, the IV finished and I was able to make it to the gate with time to spare - and without passing out. 


After a long day of traveling and trying to keep my puny self together - and conscience - we finally made it back into Little Rock where my sweet husband picked me up. 

You know what some of his first words were? "Wow, you look hot!" 


Go figure. 

Yes, it's called the e coli diet. Very effective. 


P.S. I think it is important to note, that after about six times visiting Mexico, this was the one and only time I ever got sick. I love Mexico. Wish I was there right now.