Guet me out of here

I left my boys last night for a much needed personal restreat. Ive been trailed by a brave group of 22 year old boys who refer to me as ¨nurse J¨. One boy with cystic fibrosis, living out his last days, portable respirator in hand, one 17 yo at heart, and one kid with more near death stories than one ought to ever have. They were good friends to me- giving me hugs and endless shit as I stared nervously at potential landslides. I arrived in San Marcos, a tiny village on the lake, in the rain. I changed rooms twice. ´mi solo´ I said motioning to lack of locks. So I was put with one very strange boy and another one who was seriously ill, thinking why me. The heavens opened up again with serious rage and I was grateful to have someone to take care of cause I was so scared with the rising water and my little cabana in the valley. I was up all night with the rain and thunder and booming that I was sure was the land coming crashing through the valley. There is no time that you feel more alone, farther away from home, then when you are sick as a dog in a forgien country imagining what kind of sickness you must have contracted. But the one thing I can say is that in the morning I had the most amazing breakfast, the sun came out, i did yoga for 2 hours... and then jumped the boat to Panajachel. My plan .... maybe home when the weather is safe for travel.