Homesick

I could feel it creeping up on me, my glands swelling ever so slowly. Over the course of one day, my throat closed significantly, causing swallowing to become a chore, eating was nearly impossible and when I talked I sounded like a Muppet. Though my natural reaction at home would have been to freak out, I ignored the symptoms, holding out as long as I could hoping that I was suffering from a cold. Looking at my tonsils, I could see them touching in the back of my throat and ended up at the AUC Clinic Sunday afternoon. Trying to keep my nerves calm, I almost choked up when I went into the doctor’s “office,” if you could call it that. After merely looking down my throat, the doctor asked how long had I been feeling this way and how often my tonsils swelled up. Concerned that he was misdiagnosing me because he hadn’t asked about or checked for other symptoms, Cynthia and Professor Sullivan escorted me to a pharmacy, where I was told one of my prescriptions didn’t exist on the Egyptian market. Once I had received the other prescription and did a little bit of my own research, I began the marked dosage and eventually the medicine kicked, returning my throat to its normal size.

The entire time I could hear my mom’s voice in the background telling me I was fine. Interestingly enough, the irrational fear that usually accompanies any of my physical ailments remained absent. Hundreds of miles from home, from a place that is comfortable and where I am surrounded by family and friends and decent medical facilities, I found myself more calm and composed than I had been in a long time. This was the first moment, however, that I truly began to miss being home. Much like the physical sickness, however, this homesickness passed over me rather quickly. The feeling lingered for a while, but not in a disruptive way. I lasted surprisingly longer than I had anticipated without missing home. The feeling of missing home was quickly washed away by my excitement at living in Egypt; missing home came in waves, creeping and building quickly cresting then crashing into the shores of my mind only to be dragged out and washed away into the hustle and bustle of my busy life in Cairo. Trying to keep in touch with my family, Dad responded with some words of wisdom: "don't worry about home...it'll be here when you get back." These words helped me to readjust and regain my focus on the tasks at hand.