I wake up early wet with sweat. I’ve gone to the bathroom 4 times already. Painful, diarrhea, it hurts to wipe. Blood on the toilet paper. A watery mess in my underwear. Drops all over the floor. I’m exhausted and we haven’t even begun. I look in on my girls, and they are sweet and sleeping. I’ve been well for 1 year of my daughters’ lives. They are 6 and 9. God, I hope this works.
My husband and I hit the freeway at 5 AM and watch the sun rise up behind the billboards. Listening to music, speeding through LA. We arrive in San Diego. Nothing to do now but find the trolley and slowly amble towards parasitic infection.
As we’re waiting for the train, Karsten runs in to get batteries at the kiosk – and there’s a man across the tracks who is staring at me. I wonder at first if this is Jasper, the owner of the hookworm clinic. But this guy is strange looking. A little too bundled and sweaty. He keeps looking at me and I keep thinking… is it Jasper? Karsten comes back with some batteries and I take a “before” video, feeling stupid.
We drag our bags onto the trolley and selfishly take up 2 entire benches with my cooler full of special food, my pads, 20 pairs of underwear, changes of clothes. Crohn’s-disease luggage is extra large. The man who isn’t Jasper stands against the wall near me, staring, then finally closes his eyes.
We take off. The man is sweating, crouching now against the wall. His mouth is wide open, eyes rolled back into his sockets, whites showing, drool glistening against his chin. I’m glad he isn’t Jasper, because I wouldn’t want this guy’s hookworms.
...last chance to turn back...
Finally the train arrives in San Ysidro, we get off and join the exodus marching towards the border. We walk through the concrete pedestrian maze over the real freeway that connects the US with Mexico. No customs. No passports. I am thankful I don’t have an attack of diarrhea, since there is no toilet paper in the bathrooms. We are in Mexico! Last 24 hours to be parasite free. Tomorrow, I will have 10 squirmy little friends. I’ll be thousands of dollars poorer, but rich with possibility.
The irony is, I never went to Mexico for fear of catching parasites.
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