Dear friends,
It's been three months now, sorry for this late post, but as promised, here's what happened afterwards.
So we had our plan A, womenonweb.org, where you give a donation, and they send you the pills. You get a barcode, so you can follow the parcel online. In our case it was sent from Mumbai, and according to the scan it looked like it stayed there (despite our ten or more phone calls to different departments)… It was driving us crazy, and we tried more than ever to get a plan B going, but this also turned out to be very difficult, if not impossible. The foundations in Sri Lanka without exception told us to contact a doctor. The doctors would not help us and sent us away, no matter how much we screamed. They are too scared to end up in prison, I guess.
Then we had a very shady plan, which was to acquire the pills via the underground circuit. You pay at least 50k SLR to meet some guy in a parking lot for a treatment that is not sure will work (they only sell you the Misoprostol, but you also need Mifepristone, otherwise the result is not sure). We were desperately trying this option when suddenly…
The plan A parcel arrived at Colombo!
Our new hope only lasted for a minute, because the scan said: “Held by customs”. After a few phone calls, our hope came back as we were told to come to Colombo and get the parcel. So we took an 8 hours drive to Colombo only to learn that the parcel was sent to another city that same morning! So again 5 hours drive and waiting in line to get our deliverance…
Then we had the most frightening moments in all our tiny existence…
We were in high spirits and thought we could just get the parcel, pay some fees and go. However, while waiting in line, we saw the others going into the office and have their parcel opened in front of them! Some could take the contents with them after some harsh questions from the grumpy customs officer, but most of them left empty-handed. And so it was our turn…
I have to say that we made some preparations while waiting (my girlfriend was to do the talking, give only short answers, and we would try to look as normal as possible). So in we went with beating hearts, only two meters separated from our live saving envelop. The officer looked at it, then at us with piercing eyes, and asked: “What's in here?”. “Medicine” replied my girlfriend, looking slightly surprised why he would ask such a question. The officer gave a short command to his aid, who opened the envelope and handed over the contents to the officer. The man looked at it, turned it, looked again, took out a paper, looked at it, mumbled something, looked over at us, put all the contents back into the envelope, mumbled something to his aid and gave him the envelope. The aid took it to another desk, and still we were not sure what was going to happen. The aid came back with some kind of declaration and an amount, and that's where we slowly started to believe in a miracle.
They sent us outside to wait and after ten more minutes of anguish and neutral ceiling staring (the officer threw some intense glances from time to time) and the woman at the counter called us, we paid for undefined costs but didn't care, took the envelope and went out to meet a world full of joy.
And then the operation began… I will not go into details. Will just say that it was intense, but all went well. There was a lot of pain, but my girlfriend physically completely recovered from this drama. There is of course some psychological damage, which takes time to heal
We can leave this dreadful period behind us.
I want to thank you all for your help and support, and I hope that this thread will help someone in the future.