So I was at a baby shower this morning (apparently I’ve been here long enough to be invited to such gatherings) telling my friend about my massage experience (see earlier post) when my synapses started firing. Earlier this week I found a tick clung to my upper leg likely from my weekend in the woods. I pried it off, ended its life and briefly thought ‘oh, I hope I don’t come down with something.’ A few days passed. Not wanting to be a hypochondriac I blamed abysmal sleeping hours and dehydration for headaches and fatigue. Blamed the massage for feverish symptoms and achy legs and incoordination for increasing pain in the pelvic area. Well, well, well… within an hour of this conversation (and my friend witnessing my indifference towards a chocolate confection), we found ourselves hopping from one medical clinic to the next in search of a tick bite fever test. Then came the painful process of getting blood drawn. I am cursed with tiny veins, so tiny that the Red Cross always turns me away when I want to give blood, so add a lesser qualified individual to the mix and ouch… meanwhile with each jab I’m thinking about the prevalence of AIDS (or SIDA as it’s known here) and praying that the needles are properly sterilized. I’ve been assured that they are but still… I was tested for malaria and tick bite fever and the verdict received an hour indicated the latter – yep, a parasitic bite, full blown African tick bite fever a cousin to Rocky Mountain spotted fever. A round of antibiotics and days of sleep and I should be trading in my present-sloth habits for energizer bunny-like qualities. Combined American and local remedies (as gifted to me by friends) have included chicken & pumpkin soup, mango juice, honey, a dark chocolate bar, and puppy kisses. The illness by the way can be best described as having a bad hangover 3 days straight and wishing you could walk with one leg (the bit, infected leg makes walking a painfully unpleasant endeavour).
In other news… I have a car to drive now!! So one small step for global warming, one giant leap for my independence! I have nearly mastered left-side driving, driving the wrong way down ill-marked one way streets, and receiving honks whilst conquering this foreign driving concept of round-a-bouts (but significantly less in volume compared to India, the honking that is). More importantly, I have learned that red stoplights, especially in the early a.m. hours, should be observed as 4-way stops. Due to habit, I was sitting at red stoplights for like a good 5 minutes, no sign of traffic in town, just waiting, waiting, waiting… and my boss was wandering why it took me so long to get to work in the morning… I was quickly enlightened of the “stop, look for police, if none, then go” policy. Now I mainly slow down for speed bumps, large potholes, and people who appear to have a blind spot for moving vehicles (hmm, kinda like Miami students).
Stay well, get well... take care.
1 comment:
Miss Mowsers - As I dole out my medications for my currrent condition (alas, dengue fever nabbed me), I realize that I dearly miss you and wish there wasn’t so much distance separating our stumblings. Yesterday, in my sparse moments of clarity, the ones that come between the agonizing fevers and aches, the dizzying drops in blood pressure, and the soil-my-pants-diarrhea, I caught up on your blog, and had to shield my face from the other patrons in the internet café to hide the tears sliding down my face.
When I went home to say goodbye to Grandma, after a day at the hospital I went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house to help Grandpa get his supper ready and to set out his clothes for the following day’s visit to the hospital. That, and to water Grandma’s small indoor jungle of flowers. While puttering around, your postcard from Mozambique caught my eye up on the cabinents above the shelves of National Geographic magazines. It was hung up next to a postcard from Brian from New Zealand.
Your blog helps me laugh, it makes me cry, and it helps shoo away the loneliness. It is comforting to know that someone else is struggling to find the words, the music, and the proper warnings to ease the choques. Thanks for being tangled up in this rediculous family tree with me, cuz! I am here cheering you on.
Un abrazote,
Janell
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