So one of the things that comes with the territory of moving to Africa is adjustment. For my Boston readers out there, we all recall Aquapocalypse. No drinking out of any faucet, just bottled water or boiled water that had been cooled. It was the biggest inconvenience. Well, that was life every day in Grahamstown. I felt dehydrated. Often. So adjusting to the water situation was something that would take some time. And we didn’t just have to adjust to the scarcity of fresh water, our bodies had to adjust to the water itself. It tasted different. It was not completely colorless. So an off-feeling stomach for a while was something to be expected. We also had to adjust to the food. Dining at Rhodes is not like dining at BC. St. Mary’s dining hall made Mac look like heaven. Lets just say my diet mainly consisted of fruit and toast. I definitely ate many of the other things I was served, and I never went hungry, but toast was had at every meal to make sure I was eating enough. Again, adjusting to the food was something I expected and I knew it might take a while. Sarah, Kate, and I used to joke that we were pregnant and that our babies were acting up when our stomachs were hurting. It was because of this adjustment phenomenon that it took me a little longer to realize what was happening inside of me was different.
The Saturday night before my life turned upside down was when it all started, I just had no idea. I had some high chest pains and bloating and was pretty uncomfortable. I met up with Sarah and Kate at dinner, blamed my baby and the mystery meat at lunch, and grabbed an apple and a few pieces of bread for toast. I figured nothing was really that wrong, I’ve felt like that before. We went to a movie that night and then I just went to bed. The next day I was still not feeling well. I stuck to my fruit and toast regimen for the most part but I was really hungry, so I nibbled on things here and there. I was planning on going to church with Kate and a few friends from my res, but when I got back to my room from dinner I had to lie down. I was starting to feel really uncomfortable. My back and shoulders hurt and it hurt to breathe. I convinced myself it was just the baby and that I just needed to rest. I was also really excited because I was finally going to start volunteering the next day, so I was sure I would feel better in the morning. Monday I luckily only had one morning class. I went to it but noticed that I was in pain the whole time and could not get in a comfortable position. I found that odd, but I had too much to do that day to really worry about it. I had finally received notice that my package had arrived and I decided to just go get it right after class, before volunteering. I knew something was not right when I was drenched in a layer of sweat just walking to the post office and I was fatigued. I got the package and carried it home, laboriously. It’s really not a bad walk at all, but I felt like it was killing me. I quickly opened the package to make sure everything was in it (thank God it all was there) and then I headed out to meet Sarah. We went to Settlers Hospital to meet with the nursing staff so that we could start volunteering in the children’s ward. Geoff, our on-campus advisor, drove us there. Well when we arrived we were told all the staff was in a meeting and would not be available until later. So with nothing to do, we walked back to campus. It wasn’t a bad walk, only about 15-20 minutes, but I felt every single step. It didn’t feel good.
We got back just in time for lunch. I sat down with my tray of food and just looked at it. I knew I wasn’t going to eat it. Another thing I had started to notice was that I felt much worse after eating, but again I usually just blamed the baby. Sarah and I were planning on walking back to Settlers at 2, but I knew I physically couldn’t. I left lunch after only about 10 minutes (we are usually there for an hour) and went to lie down in my room. I couldn’t get comfortable. Standing. Sitting. Lying down. Fetal position. Nothing worked. I had noticed over the past few days that sleeping had become difficult, but I was usually able to fall asleep somehow. Not anymore. I spent the majority of that day watching How I Met Your Mother (which I am now obsessed with because it got me through my darkest hours (dramatic, I know)) and talking to my mom. She had known I was struggling for a while, but neither of us ever dreamed I would be seeing her face to face 10 days later as we joked about going to Target if I just came home. Monday night was brutal. I never fell asleep. Not even for 30 minutes. I spent my time with half the screen on HIMYM and half on WebMD. I already had an appointment set up at Health Services for Wednesday so that I could get an ENT referral so I didn’t want to bother them before then. I’m pretty positive I set the Rhodes record for most Student Health visits in one semester and I was only there 6 weeks. Well I had convinced myself I had pancreatitis, which I recently learned is something many people can develop after having gall stones, so I didn’t even realize I was on the right track. My mom kept telling me to wake up Kate and have her come over, but I didn’t want to bother her. I knew she would have come over in a heartbeat, but I didn’t even know for sure if I was really sick so I didn’t want to disturb her over nothing. I called Health Services and they were supposed to call me back, but they never did. My biggest fear was that I was making a big deal out of nothing. I was having bad Student Health flashbacks to sophomore year at BC when I kept getting tested for strep and mono but they kept being negative and I think they thought I was crazy. (Funny story, recent tests have shown I probably had mono in the past so I guess I wasn’t crazy after all.)
Once it hit 6am and I had not had any relief from the pain, I texted Kate and asked her to come over, which she did of course. We went to Health Services to get some pain meds and set up a Dr. appt for later that morning. I was able to rest for one hour thanks to some pepto bismol-like liquid I was given. The Sister (that’s what they call nurses) diagnosed me with gastritis and said the Dr. would take a closer look at it later. I came back later that morning and all the pain had returned. The Dr. I saw said it was my fault. He said I most likely had too much ibuprofen and had destroyed my stomach lining. He also diagnosed me with severe post-nasal drip and explained that this has been the cause of my swollen glands, ear infections, and headaches. He then gave me a bag of medicine to counteract all the previous medicines the Sister had given me. He also gave me this weird metaphor about my lymph nodes as police precincts or something of that nature. I didn’t get it. So I went back to my room and took all the medicine he gave me. I didn’t feel any better. So after about an hour I called Kate again and said I had to see someone else so she came back over. I packed a small bag, not expecting to be there that long, and told my mom (whom I had been talking to all night/day) that I would let her know what was going on. We went back to student health and I explained that I needed to go to the hospital because nothing was working. They wrote me a note and Geoff drove me and Kate over. Thank God for Kate Lucey.
Wow. That was long and I am not even at the hospital yet. I am also pretty sure I have mixed up a few of the details, but whatever it isn’t that important. This is just setting the stage for the weirdest 5 days of my life.
Teaser of the next post: Open vials of blood. “Oh my gooooosh, look at her skin color!” 39.4. Hepatitis.
1 comment:
FIRST POST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let the SAGA continue!
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