Recovering

After a month + of travelling around developing countries, one would think your immune system would become impervious to parasites, not so. I´m not sure what I had or did in Bocas, maybe it was eating at local $1.00 cafeterias or brushing my teeth with the non-potable water, but whatever it was, I got sick…

Thursday, 8th of August
I would liken Thursday night similar to getting stuck in a sauna, for a whole evening, with no effective means of truly cooling yourself. What ever laid its hands on me proved merciless and, would not give way. A thermometer would have done me well, if only to appease my temperature curiosity.

Friday, 9th of August
Obviously, I am now travelling alone and being sick isn’t the greatest thing to have happen to a solo traveller. Fortunately, the world is filled with other wonderful people, many, happen to be other travellers.

My next door neighbours, a young German couple who I met on the bus from David to Bocas, became saviours. Seeing not the slightest glimpse of me throughout the day, they knocked on my door to check on how I was feeling. With a nurses concern, and care, they headed to the grocery, returned with some juice (I had just run out of liquids), gave me some Panadol –for fevers-, and lent me their thermometer.

Thinking my fever had lifted, I considered the Pandol excessive. But, after converting the thermometers Celsius reading, I downed a pill- 38.4C = about 100F (this number worried me a bit as the previous nights temp was definitely higher).

Saturday, 10th of August
With my nurses departed, all drinkable fluids depleted, food at empty, and the new necessity of drinking plenty of water because I started using Cipro, I left the hotel. In a walk similar to one who is inebriated, I headed to the grocery. On my way, I passed the Clinic. With a confused and dazed look, I stood, contemplating on whether I should check myself in… ¨Should I go in?¨, ¨Should I wait another day?¨… with my legs uninterested in bearing my weight much longer, I decided to check myself in.

The Clinic-
Me to nurse: ¨Hola, Habla Ingles?¨
Nurse: ¨No¨
Me to myself: ¨shit...¨
Me to nurse: “yo soy enfermo, me siento mal, yo tengo fiebre¨

After many hand gestures and bad Spanish, she took my pulse, wrote down some personal information and escorted me to the doctor.

The doctor proved a bit more difficult to speak with. I’ve learned in my years of life that if someone doesn’t understand you, the best thing you can do is either rephrase the statement, or repeat, but speak more slowly. This never really seemed to trigger with my doctor. When displaying a confused look or, when I would tell him in Spanish that I didn’t understand, he would repeat what he had just said but faster… Finally, after 20 minutes of me trying my hardest to understand the doctor -while at the same time trying not to pass out- he handed over the piece of paper that I so sought, the prescription.

Ironically, after visiting him, I headed to the grocery, got some food, water, and then went back to the hotel; Never filling the prescriptions.

Today:
I had my first solid meal. It was pancakes, from a lovely café about a block away from my hotel. I am feeling better, and expect in another couple days to have made almost a full recovery… Nasty parasites!