Grace

After an uneventful flight (other than sitting next to a man who sucked his teeth after meals and snored so loudly I could hear it over my headphones), I’ve arrived safely in Bangkok. It’s the end of day one and things were going well. Were.

We made it through our first day of training sessions without any major problems. The Internet connection at the training center was painfully slow, but the center’s IT personnel promised improvements by tomorrow. I’m not sure what they’ll do to achieve that, but there’s little to do but trust them.

My co-workers and I were about to head back to the hotel this afternoon when I unconsciously decided to show my least favorite side me: klutzy me. As I stepped off the curb to get into the cab, I stepped right into a pothole and sprained my ankle. Bad. Down I went, as the colorful words flew from my lips and the tears streamed from my eyes.

My co-workers, who I really don’t know that well, were absolutely amazing. They helped me into the cab, gave me a shoulder to lean on as I hobbled through the hotel, carried all my stuff to my room (Brad even carried my little red purse without a second thought), gathered everything I could need or want (extra pillows to prop up my leg, tons of ice for the ankle, an Ace bandage, Advil, an offer to order room service or bring me something for dinner), and have since been checking on me very frequently, almost annoyingly so, to see how I’m feeling and if I need anything else.

So here I sit, leg propped up, icing my ankle, laughing at myself to keep from crying, and thanking God for my thoughtful co-workers.