The day that
Nikki almost died but didn’t
I find
evidence of the miraculous everywhere and usually it’s nonsensical. Perhaps it does make sense to a greater or
simpler mind than mine. Perhaps there’s
an overarching plan that I’m too small to see.
Perhaps there’s a reason or perhaps there’s nothing but I know the meant
to be when I see it and I’ve seen it enough not to question it anymore. Without one small link in a chain of
occurrences the outcome would have been so much different, but it wasn’t; that
link was there and everything fell into place exactly so. Sometimes it ends in tragedy, sometimes in
triumph – today she could have died but didn’t.
We’d taken the students to Montezuma, a remote
town on the tip of the Nicoya peninsula. From there we hiked to a beautiful
deep jungle waterfall and set intentions with silence, solemnity and a healing
mantra that we all chanted together; circled and hand-holding. When it was over we dispersed and climbed up
the falls to document it with a photo.
On her path up the water Nikki brushed by a tree laden with ants and received
many bites on her upper thigh. Since
they were only ants and this is the jungle where everything eats you she
thought nothing of it, posing for photos and taking photos as the group walked
down to the bigger set of falls below.
After she’d finished taking my photo and I swam back to her rock I found
her seated and alarmed. She had flushed
skin and told me her lips felt numb.
I ran down to tell Russ what had
happened and that we needed to leave. By
the time we’d gotten back to where she sat her face and neck were red with
hives, her lips and eyes were swelling and it was clear that this situation was
more serious than we thought.
Moments later Jake showed up with
Benadryl and a random couple. We gave
her the pills as the strange man knelt and said, “I’m a doctor.” He was Dr. Kiav Nemati. Having just graduated
from UCLA medical school he’d surprised his girlfriend Miss Emily Groves, who was
a nurse, with this trip to Costa Rica.
They’d been debating whether to go to the waterfall or the beach
that morning and at about the same time that we had joined hands and started
chanting, the waterfall had won. They’d
been there only fifteen minutes when he’d overheard my cries to Russ and found
us kneeling around Nikki. He proceeded
calmly to ask a series of questions both comforting and terrifying. What was her name? What had stung her? Did she have any allergies, any history of
hospitalization or medical issues? Did
she feel any numbness, any tingling or dizziness? Was she having trouble breathing? As the questions and answers continued with
affirmations the gravity of the situation became clear. We needed epinephrine he said, which none
of us had. She needed urgent care he
said and at that moment Nikki stood up saying, “I have to go,” and she and I
just started going, leaving them behind to figure out details.
