My life becomes more unpredictable each day. At first this made me uncomfortable. Now I revel in it.
Every ninety days I must leave Malawi to renew my visa. Consequently, three weeks ago I flew back to the USA. I took the opportunity to see the dentist and visit the dermatologist. I taught at the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences and at George Washington University. I saw patients at Children’s National Hospital and met with the students who I am mentoring. I attended the theatre (which felt terrific) and went out to dinner, visited friends, and spent time with my spouse.
Shortly after arrival in the USA, I began to receive requests from researchers in Malawi to bring back supplies with me, items needed for research studies. When asked, my default answer was “yes.” The result is nearly 150 pounds of supplies distributed over three pieces of luggage. I packed everything 3 days before departure back to Malawi and made a list of “last minute” things to stick into my carry on. I was organized and ready.
The day before departure, I was sitting in the dentist’s chair when the mobile phone in my pocket received a dozen text messages and emails almost simultaneously.
The day before departure, I was sitting in the dentist’s chair when the mobile phone in my pocket received a dozen text messages and emails almost simultaneously. This, of course, is always worrying. Did someone die? Had our apartment burned down? During a break with the dental assistant, I pried my phone out of my pocket.
My flight was cancelled. Since I travel frequently, the likelihood of such things happening is high. Though I was mentally ready to depart the USA, I was not very upset with the cancellation. No one was expecting me back in Malawi. A few days either way would not really matter. When the dentist released me (no cavities!) I phoned the travel agent. She gave me options. After lots of debate, I eventually decided to reschedule to depart 5 days later.
My unexpected days in the USA have been interesting. Since I did not anticipate being here, I have no scheduled appointments. I wake up, wade through my email, exercise, and fill the remainder of the day with the myriad activities required to live in the USA: shopping, cooking, and cleaning. This lagniappe has brought me joy. I sleep well, our apartment is clean, and I hurry less. Perhaps the key to my better mental health is to plan less, and try to live like my next flight home might be cancelled at any minute.
