Triangle of Death

 As I mentioned in the last post, my lip bothered me during our day in East Berlin. As we woke up to take the long train ride back to Mainz, my upper lip had become swollen on the left side. 

I don't recall much of anything about our train ride back. If I'm not mistaken, it took seven or eight hours to get back. Did we change trains? I don't recall that either. 

Way more vivid in my mind is waking up early the next morning to a disturbing sight. The left side of my face was inflamed to the point that my left eye was mostly swollen shut. I recall knocking on my host parents' bedroom door to show them what had happened. They were understandably startled. That morning we went to a clinic.

They numbed my lip and the Dr. made an incision to drain the swelling. Realize, I didn't really understand a lot of what was being said. I'm not sure anyone explained things to me. Perhaps they did, but it's fuzzy now. Anyway, at some point they phoned Bergren, our teacher and, in turn, he phoned my parents. 

I was made to understand that for the next few days, I required bed rest. Imagine how pleased you would be as a sixteen year old having the time of his life, but suddenly you're told you have to stay home while everyone else gets to hang out and do fun things in Germany. 

What I didn't know at the time is that the doctor suggested admitting me to the hospital. Infections in that area of the face, popularly known as the triangle of death, are occasionally very dangerous, since the blood flow in that area of the face is direct to the brain.

In the above photo, if you look closely you can see a bandage on my face, following a follow-up visit to the Dr.'s clinic.

So I was mostly in bed for the next few days. I think I missed the tour of the Gutenberg museum, but I'm not sure what else. Mostly as a love-sick teen, I missed seeing more of Funda, although she did visit me one afternoon. What I also didn't realize at the time was that Rudiger's mom had promised to change my bandages and keep me on bed rest, rather than have me admitted, so I am very grateful for her care. 

Naturally my parents were concerned....about the cost of treatment. 😅During that same follow-up visit, I asked the Dr. (wish I had his name written down - I did in my original scrapbook that was not acid-free) how we would figure out payment. He said the treatment was a gift to further German-American friendship and understanding. Turns out my pimple served a higher purpose. Below is that Dr. and a nurse at the clinic:

Thanks, Doc and Nurse!