I thought I had escaped the illness that seemed to be plaguing everyone in my group. Wrong. With less than two hours of sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night only to find myself holed-up in the bathroom for the next three or four hours. Another girl on my program was similarly violently ill so the greatest program director ever walked from her flat at five am to take us to the only doctor open at that time of day – the trauma center in the ER. Luckily we were placed in a side room with other patients of less severe problems so avoided seeing some more potentially gruesome scenes. The girl who ended up in the ER last week wasn't quite as lucky. That’s not to say it was a particularly pleasant experience though.
We were each assigned a metal cot with a tiny pad and sheet covering it; mine spotted with lovely rust-colored bloodstains, in what looked like an old classroom. We were eventually given several injections through an IV, including one that stopped the vomiting and nausea (thank god!). The healthcare staff working were mostly interns finishing up their final years in medical school. Some of the nurses joked throughout the process, forgetting to give the other girl her injections entirely until one of the other staff finally realized and scolded him. We spent the next four hours on the hard cots curled up in pain as Katie Jo ran back in forth to the pharmacy to fill all the prescriptions for the medicines we were to take the next few days, oral re-hydration salts, and the injections (which apparently you have to get yourself rather than them just being administered). We waited to see a doctor about the other girl’s fever and my continuing stomach pain. He finally came just fifteen minutes before we left, without even reading our files or asking what the previous symptoms were. But I finally ended up getting another injection for the pain that still hadn’t subsided and the other girl got some pills to calm the fever. While it obviously wasn’t the greatest time, the hospital we were at is one of the nicest in the areas and I am so grateful we have such easy access to it. Also, the cost for my entire experience was just over $10, maybe the cost of a single pill in the US.
I spent the next twenty-four hours curled up in my hostel in and out of slight fever, body aches, and stomach pain that seemed to subside only at glacial speeds. In the morning, almost thirty-six hours after the whole ordeal and hours of rest, I felt much better. Good enough to down a few bites of plain rice and join my group on the day’s excursion anyway. It is still a struggle to smell or eat anything not horribly bland, but I am beyond grateful to be more or less done with the experience.
We were each assigned a metal cot with a tiny pad and sheet covering it; mine spotted with lovely rust-colored bloodstains, in what looked like an old classroom. We were eventually given several injections through an IV, including one that stopped the vomiting and nausea (thank god!). The healthcare staff working were mostly interns finishing up their final years in medical school. Some of the nurses joked throughout the process, forgetting to give the other girl her injections entirely until one of the other staff finally realized and scolded him. We spent the next four hours on the hard cots curled up in pain as Katie Jo ran back in forth to the pharmacy to fill all the prescriptions for the medicines we were to take the next few days, oral re-hydration salts, and the injections (which apparently you have to get yourself rather than them just being administered). We waited to see a doctor about the other girl’s fever and my continuing stomach pain. He finally came just fifteen minutes before we left, without even reading our files or asking what the previous symptoms were. But I finally ended up getting another injection for the pain that still hadn’t subsided and the other girl got some pills to calm the fever. While it obviously wasn’t the greatest time, the hospital we were at is one of the nicest in the areas and I am so grateful we have such easy access to it. Also, the cost for my entire experience was just over $10, maybe the cost of a single pill in the US.
I spent the next twenty-four hours curled up in my hostel in and out of slight fever, body aches, and stomach pain that seemed to subside only at glacial speeds. In the morning, almost thirty-six hours after the whole ordeal and hours of rest, I felt much better. Good enough to down a few bites of plain rice and join my group on the day’s excursion anyway. It is still a struggle to smell or eat anything not horribly bland, but I am beyond grateful to be more or less done with the experience.