I am starting to get a glimpse of how missionaries must feel in a foreign country, with no internet, no long-term friends, no lover, no money, culture shock, and homesickness. Today was another hard day, but good. My acid reflux has come back in full force. When coupled with my asthma, my airway restricts immensely, making it almost impossible to breathe. I stayed up most of the night wheezing heavily, and only got three hours of sleep. My only consolation was the thought of getting acid reflux medicine at the corner pharmacy. When I got there this morning, wheezing, the pharmacist couldn't understand me, got angry at me, and told me in an irritated tone that that was something I needed to get from a doctor. Um, no, it isn't. I left discouraged and found myself immediately in a river of tears. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. What I'm wondering now is, why are all these bad things happening to me at once? I can't get money out of any ATM in Florence or Lucca, I owe people money, I have little to no contact with the people that keep me sane, the people who are supposed to be sharing internet with us get annoyed, even though we let them use our washer happily. I was bedridden for three days, then on top of that my acid reflux comes back. I get no sleep, get yelled at by an angry Italian lady with no sympathy, and am struggling every second to breathe. Oh yeah and I lost my converter.
I know the second week is always the hardest, but I am so close to wanting to come home. I know it's not possible and I will regret it if I do leave now, but I wasn't expecting it to be this hard. I am severely out of my comfort zone, missing my friends, and just want to be back in Provo right now, where everything is familiar. And where I can spend DOLLAR bills, talk to people that understand my language, and not be sick. On top of all of this, life keeps going. I went on the day trip to Lucca today against my better judgment. It was a good trip. After an unforeseen meltdown both at the girls' apartment and the train station, I finally found some medicine. It helps a little, but not much. We rode the train for two hours and sketched most of the time. We rented bikes and rode around the top of the city wall. We sketched the local citizens, ate some good pizza (what?!), and had gelatto and sketched some more. The train ride home gave me nausea. My breathing got heavier. Some lady at the grocery store yelled at me today. But I got to shower. That's a plus. And now I have five euros to my name?
I seriously thought this trip was going to be more like vacation than school. For the most part it is. But the little bad things keep adding up into one big reason why I long for home right now.
All I want to know is: why now? Why are all these things piling up on top of me in ITALY? They are 1,000 times harder to deal with abroad. This is hard.