My Nose And The Security Guard’s Tonic

By BobbyRica | April 14, 2011


It’s been two months and a half after that incident in Playas del Coco where a part my nostril got sliced free. Since I haven’t talked openly about it since the incident, I guess now is the time to do so. When my friends finally drove me to the emergency room, the doctor looked at my nose and I notice that the loose flap of bloody skin had been my right nostril.

The doctor didn’t waste any time and operated on me. It took three agonizing hours before they carefully stitched the flap back into my face. Since then, my face had gotten a bit swollen. Fifteen stitches and a bottle of Jack Daniels later, Akasha drove me back home. God bless him.

Despite my nose being fixed, I was always in constant state of pain. If it weren’t for painkillers, I would have gotten crazy!

A month had passed and my face was still swollen. It was difficult to smile, let alone talk. During my welcome back party, I couldn’t even muster up the strength to talk like I’d normally do because my cheeks would sting like a mother!

I have been dealing with this like a stoic. And yet the people around me were concerned. As brave as I wanted to be, I was getting concerned too. My physician told me that my nose was healing just fine, and I should keep on taking the meds. No cigars for the meantime and to take lots of Vitamin C. But managing this was far more than I thought it would be.

As it turns out, the nose is the most delicate part of of the face. Not just because it allows me to breathe, it’s situated near a tender bone that’s near the brain. One bump in the right part of the nose, and the bone would dislodge and break off inside my brain. And presto, I’d be dead as a doornail. That part also happens to be susceptible to disease. So I really had to take care of it.

Healing herbs and edible flowers

Rivas, our security guard, was pestering me that I should go to a witch doctor and get “more healing”. I kept on ignoring him up until the time that he was offering me this brew that he says he concocted for me.

It took me five days before I finally relented and drank the damn thing. I didn’t know what I drunk, but minutes later, I felt a certain buzz. A subtle one that you get when you drink coffee. Somehow, the pain in my face slowly subsided. It was as if a veil had been lifted and I felt I can do anything. What in heck did Rivas give me?

“You didn’t give me weed now, did you?” I asked the portly security guard.

He flashed me a grin and said, “It’s just something my mother taught me when I have wounds. I’ve been using it since I was a kid living alone in the jungle. It’s just a bunch of dried leaves and barks that I got from the local Semillas Sagradas.”

“Whatever it is, it’s working. Maybe you should send me more of the stuff later tonight.”

Rivas looked at my swollen face and said, “why don’t I just teach you how to make it? The ingredients can be bought in the neighborhood wet market anyway.”

So from that time on, I start the day drinking Rivas special tonic. Don’t be surprised if you happen to see me in the kitchen grinding and boiling leaves like a witch doctor. It’s been only a week, and I feel better than before. Even the stitches in my nose is healing quite nicely.

If you’re curious what the recipe is, you have to come to me in person and ask for it.

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