What does not kill you makes you stronger !

This is the story of a careless girl who always ends up in tricky situations.

Sunday July, 4th: The Emergency Room of the Hospital of Jordan. I am sitting in one of these chairs, on which you usually see weaping families waiting for their relatives. The smell of sickness is unbearable. The rush of doctors is frightening. I am not alone: My overwhelming teeth pain came with me. I am very negligent though. When I first felt this pain when I was in New York, then in Morocco, I did not want to lose one precious second of my time with my friends and family to go see a doctor.

Consequences: I am in a foreign country, I barely understand the dialect, and it hurts very much! The employees of the hospital send me from one desk to the other. They ask me administrative documents in Arabic but I do not understand one single word. None of them speak English. I now have reached the apex of my fear. I am really hopeless.

I am crying so much that a doctor feels empathy (or pity?) for me and takes me to see a dentist. After checking me up, the verdict is simple and cruel: I have to get an extraction of my upper and lower widsom teeth, as soon as possible.

After going back and forth between the clinic and the hospital of the university, I finally get the papers that allow me to have a free surgery and free medicine. The doctor at the clinic of the university writes me a prescription for a pain killer before the surgery. In the same building, there is a pharmacy and students can get all the medicine they need, and it is free! The educational system in Jordan really takes care of his/her students. Even though I could not undestand what these doctors and interns were telling me, I could see that they genuinely wanted to help me and felt for me.

Monday July, 5th: After one hour waiting in front of the dentist's office, reading Ahmad Amin's “Letter to my father” (in Arabic!), a sweet girl finally calls me and takes me to the scanner room to see how my wisdom teeth grew. “Well, says the doctor, it is going to be easy. We can do that right now.” “Right now?!” I answered, petrified.

I came to the hospital for a simple scanner of my teeth. I left the hospital with two missing teeth, no stiches, no prescription for a strong pain killer and no letter for my university allowing me to skip classes the next few days. What is worst is that, even though I have a local anesthesia, I am too scared to talk to the dentist afterwards because I am terrified by the view and feeling of so much blood in my mouth. “Don't worry, it is going to bleed A LOT the first day,” the doctor tells me.

Well. What. An. Experience.

It is 40 degrees outside. I find myself walking down the hill, on which the Hospital of the University of Jordan is, looking for a taxi. When I finally find one, I can barely pronounce the name of the street I live in so the cab driver, thinking that I am kidding him, starts laughing at me.

Conclusion of the story?

I had the wonderful chance to meet the sweetest people at the University of Jordan and in Amman and they really took care of me. Among them, a young doctor who prescribed me a real pain killer and really cared about me; a lovely roommate who took me to the pharmacy and buy soups and ice cream, and made me laugh more than once; amazing American guys and a Bolivian girl from school who came to visit with presents, medicines and advices; and a sweet Lebanese guy who kept texting me to know how I was feeling; and several other people who kept asking if I needed help. This is definitely the best part of the story.

After all, what does not kill makes you stronger!