Sick and Tired

A few weeks ago I came down with a fever.  I wasn’t too worried; I get fevers here all the time.  The fever continued, the worst was at night when I had to try to sleep under the tap-dancing pigeons and tail-thumping rats.  They have lately had quite a lot of talent at keeping me up at night.  One night I was so chilled that I decided I should check my temperature.  As I shook the thermometer (we use the old-fashioned mercury kind down here) I crashed it into my cell phone which I was using for light.  The thing shattered broken glass and bits of mercury all over my face.  That was a pretty low moment for the past few years.  I was too sick to change the sheets, especially in the dark, so I rolled over to the other side of the bed and prayed that that stuff about mercury poisoning was all just hype. 

On a Sunday morning I woke up feeling very faint.  I knew I was going to pass out so I had to decide if I’d rather sit or lay down and pass out, still alone and still without anything to help me to feel better, or if I’d rather try to get myself some sugar or something.  I decided to try.  I ate a bite of leftover pasta and realized I couldn’t eat another one. Then I shoved some peanut butter in my mouth and, while drinking water, decided to try to get to the shower, and even sit in it if I had to, to try to cool off.  On my way to the shower I passed out and fell.  When I came to I heard the men outside my house screaming as usual and realized I was lying in the water from my bottle.  It was their screaming and that water that sort of pulled me out of the fainting.  Before I was fully conscious I ran my tongue over my teeth and thought that something felt a little off.  I wondered, briefly, if I’d broken my teeth in the fall, but decided that I hadn’t-my mouth was still full of peanut butter anyways, so what could I really tell.  When I became fully conscious I realized that I had, in fact, broken 3 teeth.  I looked at Lina as I slowly stood up.  She didn’t seem too worried.  Then I looked at myself briefly in the mirror.  It was not a pretty site.  I got immediately in the shower.

I called to my neighbor, who wasn’t home, then called the PC doctor who told me to come down to the capital as soon as possible and go directly to the hotel they have us stay in when we’re sick.  I called another neighbor, who came slowly down the street, to help me.  She helped me to get a ride with a neighbor all the way to Santiago, and even came with.  Before that I had to pack and try to get the house into some sort of shape for my departure.  I filled the cat’s food bowl to the top, as well as the water bowl, and sent Lina off to the house of the woman who watches her.  I had many visitors in those moments, even people who had never been inside my house before.  They all came over to look at my teeth and feel the bump on my head.  (I later figured out that I must have hit my water bottle into the sink, causing the sink to turn over, and then fallen back to hit my head on the bathroom wall.  I didn’t cut my lips or my tongue which is how I figured that I’d fallen with the water bottle in my mouth.) 

I rode to Santiago in a leather-interior jeep, with air conditioning, which was exactly what I needed.  I’d put my foot down about getting a ride just to Isabela (which would have mean that I needed to get myself on 2 buses alone) or about taking a motorcycle anywhere.  I’m so glad I did.  My neighbor and the man who drove me to Santiago got me on the bus to the capital, from where I took a taxi to the hotel.  I was glad to see some other PCVs in the hotel who were all very supportive, and all of them avoided the temptation to laugh at my yokel mouth. 

The next morning I went to the PC doctor who sent me to get blood work done and then to go to the dentist.  When they drew the blood at the lab I got very light-headed again, put this time I didn’t pass out because, as you might imagine, labs are well-equipped to deal with light-headedness.  They put me on a bed with my legs up above my head and I laid there for a while, the lab tech coming in every once in a while to ask if I was ready to move.  I wasn’t.  She finally asked if I should go to the ER, which seemed a little dramatic to me, so I told her to call the PC doctor.  She came back to tell me that the PC doctor said someone would come from PC to pick me up soon.  Then she came back to say that actually, I’d be going to the ER.  I told myself that if I could get up in that moment, I could probably avoid going to the ER, which did seem a little excessive.  But, I really couldn’t do it.  So, I let them put me in a wheel chair and wheel me down the street to the hospital.  It was hot and people on the street stared at me, but I tried not to think about it. 

When I got there I met what seemed to be hundreds of doctors, none of whom introduced themselves to me, although I was later expected to know whom they all were.  I was so out of it and everyone asked me the same questions, but I tried to answer them all.  A nurse came in and put in an IV needle which, and you must believe me when I tell you that I don’t ordinarily complain about such things this way, was the most uncomfortable, painful feeling.  It felt like she was cutting my hand with a knife, and it didn’t feel much better when the IV entered my arm.  This continued over the next few days that I stayed in the hospital.  Every time the IV ran out, blood would drip into the needle and when they reattached a new IV the blood would reenter, quite painfully, with air bubbles which were also quite unpleasant.  The antibiotics going in weren’t a treat either. 

They finally got me up to a room, but along the way I was put through a few exams, again, no one ever telling me what was going on.  When I got to the room, a very nice doctor explained to me that I’d have to wash my hair because they were going to do an exam of my brain the next day and I needed to have very clean hair.  When I realized that there was no hot water in my room, I asked the nurse if she could get someone to fix it.  She first told me I was doing it wrong.  Then she admitted that it needed to be fixed.  When she found out it would be a while before someone could come to fix it, she suggested that I take a cold shower because of my high fever.  I told her I was cold so I couldn’t take a cold shower, and she told me that was ridiculous.  I’d been working with the faucets for a while and was beginning to notice the lack of IV fluid entering my body so I simply told her I would not be taking a cold shower.  (I was incredibly proud of myself for standing up to her like that.)  Unfortunately this was only the beginning of the incompetence that I would get to see at the hospital among the nursing staff.  I have about 10 other stories, but I bet you’ve heard of similar stories and can imagine pretty well what could have gone wrong: everything.

After my brain exam, and a few nights of getting no sleep, I was finally able to fall asleep.  I looked like crap, and I was sweating profusely.  I was woken up at some point in the afternoon to the PC doctor and my mom walking into the room!  She’d come down as a complete surprise to me, and I was just thrilled to see her, but first I was completely out of it and almost thought I was dreaming.  I can’t imagine what she thought when she looked at me in that state… So we spent the next few days in the hospital talking a ton.  She would always encourage me to eat my soft foods, and I would try to explain how not-hungry I was.  She was an advocate for me to the doctors and nurses, while I interpreted, and she went to get me chocolate and other treats which also helped immensely.  I told someone just the other day, when you’re sick, there’s no one you’d rather see than your mom. 

They took the IV out on a Friday and I was so happy I almost cried.  It had been some of the worst pain I’d ever felt, including all of my aches and pains when I climbed Pico Duarte a few months ago and anything else I can think of, honestly ( besides one ear infection I had in high school which was very bad). 

On Saturday I got cleared to leave the hospital, although they never did diagnose me with anything.  My mom and I went to the hotel and stayed there until Wednesday.  On that Monday I went with her to the dentist and got my teeth fixed, and according to people who have seen them, they look completely natural, although I can obviously tell a difference.  On Tuesday I got some blood work done, a throat culture (my throat had been/still is) covered with white plaque which never responded to antibiotics, and I got my ears cleaned out.   I was starting to feel much better, and now I completely do.  So as I said, Wednesday we came up to my site, with diet coke and snacks in our bags.  We got here quite tired, but came back to a home full of over a weeks’ worth of dust.  I did my best to clean it up for my visitor, who I bet didn’t even care that it was messy.  I had many visitors from my town, coming over to see if I was better and to check out my new teeth.  I wasn’t completely better, but eventually the throat pain went away.  I spent then, 2 full days with my mom in my site, dealing with the heat (we were without power, and so were without a fan) for those 2 days, but she was a great sport.  She got a chance to see my site a bit and everyone remarked at how young she is.  They still are asking me if she’s my sister.  No one, despite the fact that they all have their children quite young, can believe that she is old enough to have a daughter my age.  Maybe it’s also that I look so old. 

I took her to Santiago to get a flight back to the US on Saturday.  I’ll see her again soon, with my 2 younger siblings and my dad in a few weeks, after a trip to visit another PCV in St. Kitts this week.  It’s going to be a very busy summer!  

We Hate It When Our Friends...

When I first got to my site, one of the most depressing things for me to observe was the family across the street from my host family’s house. It consists of 3 little girls (I refer to them as the muchachas) and their mother (who is just a few years older than me) and their father (who drinks all the time and is in his 60s.) She screamed all day long at them, he was never around, and when I did see him at home he had a bottle of rum with him, and the girls treated one another pretty recklessly, even going so far as to earn the littlest of the bunch the nickname of “the football” since she was treated as such. (The incident that cemented in my mind that name for her was one day when they came to play at my host mom’s house. The older 2 sisters had the baby loosely on a chair near the kitchen table. All of the sudden they were no longer near her and though her chin was resting on the table, her body wasn’t being supported by anything and was slipping. She banged her chin down hard on the table and crumpled underneath it. Of course, she was very shook up and cried, which was very unlike her because usually, like most footballs, she didn’t cry when treated roughly.)

But perhaps the most disturbing thing to witness about the family was when the father sent his daughters (of just 5 and 7 years) to the store to buy him some things. Those things: a bottle of rum and a few cigarettes sold individually (commonly referred to in the US as “loosies.”)

Tonight I witnessed an errand even more despicable. At the fried food stand where I spend most of my evenings, a little boy came up with something in his hand. I couldn’t see what it was but he stared intently at the fire going. He reached into the pit with what I guessed was either a cigarette or a cigar, no doubt having been sent to light it for his parent. I was right; when he withdrew his hand from the pit I saw that he held a now lit cigar. But there was something wrong, the flame hadn’t caught. So back he went with the cigar in his hand to attempt to light it again. Again, it wouldn’t take. Finally he withdrew a lit log from the flame and held it up to the cigar which he had placed in his mouth. By inhaling on the cigar while lighting it on the log he was able to get the cigar lit, and this was clearly not the first time he had performed this act. He replaced the log and as he was leaving I asked him how old he was. Six.

May Showers

I have never been afraid in my home. Not once. I say this not to impress you, but merely as a matter of fact. I have never been afraid, although there have been many instances to be afraid, because of this recently-acquired ability not too feel too many real emotions. (It’s called a coping strategy and I do understand that it’s not healthy.)

That was true up until last night. You see, we’ve been having some rains lately. I guess that’s putting it mildly. It has been raining, without fail, at least once, every day for almost 2 weeks. And last night it wasn’t just rain to contend with, it was wild winds, loud thunder, and shiny lightning. (Yes, shiny.) I guess I should start at the beginning…

I was on the phone with a fellow PCV who was telling me about his water project. I commented on the strength of the winds and rain that had just picked up and he concurred that it sounded strong from his end. It continued and as it did, the lightning and thunder began. A bolt came down very near to me and I screamed. I apologized to my friend for having screamed into the phone, and considered hanging up with him but decided the distraction of talking to him might make this storm seem less dramatic. We continued to talk and then all of the sudden what seemed to be about 100 bolts came crashing down all around me. I screamed, took a minute to regroup and then there fell another one, so I screamed again. When I was finally able to put myself together enough to realize that I was screaming into my friend’s ear I got so embarrassed that I couldn’t stop laughing. So it went on like that for a while: screaming, laughing, and of course there was the plugging of the ears and keeling over on the floor because apparently things are less scary from the floor.

He continued to talk and I periodically interrupted his story with a good scream from another bolt. We decided that I was safe in my house, even if my roof was made entirely of metal (which formed a new leak from the rain, dripping into my “closet” which is the cardboard box from my refrigerator). I decided to move to a place where I couldn’t see the lightning as well: my bedroom. The doors in my house all began to crash closed and open from the air coming into the house and I realized that the cat had gotten out of her room. (She and my dog can’t be in the same room because they hate one another, so I’ve been keeping them separated.) So I went chasing after the cat, hoping to catch her before she found my dog, while the lightning and thunder continued. I got her, put her back, and then she was out again from the door having opened back up. She ran under my bed, which I had found out was where the dog was hiding, but neither animal attacked the other. Perhaps they were too petrified. (Certainly their owner would have been giving them reason to be alarmed if the lightning hadn’t had an effect.)

I decided to lock the dog in, and me and the cat out. In so doing I positioned myself to see what was going on outside again and got to see my power lines fall down as a piece of tin roof came rolling down the street. The sky went yellow from the storm (something I learned in Chicago is a sure sign that the storm is worse than originally thought.) The wind made the rain come in at an angle and before long there was rain coming into my porch and underneath my front door. On the porch I watched as 12 bags of cement got effectively ruined from the rain and as the ceramic, tin and steel beams got a nice bath. The rain also collected in a pool in front of my front door until later in the night when a neighbor was nice enough to dig a trench to lead the water away.

Eventually the sky turned from eerie yellow to mellow pink, and then it got dark. The lightning continued for a while but it wasn’t so bad that I stayed inside. I went to take some videos of the rain waters rushing down our street and forming a river in the unpaved road. It’s manageable, however, because it’s not the first time that has happened here, and it certainly won’t be the last.