Cocktail Cure

Wow. My last post was Monday.

Who knew that the rest of my week would be spent as a lazy slug.

I woke up on Tuesday, not feeling great, and by 16h00, I was a shivering, grey-faced, fevery mess. I went to the Doctor at the village, who then told me I should go to the camp doctor to be tested for the works, so off we went. It's only a... 15 minute ride... but on very, extremly bumpy roads... and when you're body aches when you simply take a deep breath....those 15 minutes can last forever.

I got all my testing done immediately, results within the hour (makes me wonder about these lab results in Canada that day 2-5 business days....) and (THANK GOODNESS!!!) I didn't have Malaria, I just had a "strong infection in my intestine". The doctor didn't speak very good English, and in states of extreme stress or excitement....I don't speak or understand French (isn't that convenient).

I'll save you the details of the next three days. It involves me. And a toilet. And nothing else.

Fast forward three days of taking some drug cocktail and I'm eating, walking, EVEN HAVING A SHOWER!!! Life seems so much more worth living when I'm keeping food down and able to things like walk without holding a wall for support, and get out of bed without resembling Walter Breuning (the 3rd oldest verified man in the world, born September 21, 1896).

I would like to say that things are getting better for me, health wise since I first moved here. That I've physically adapted to all the different germs and bateria and stuff. But, without fail, each and every rotation, I have at least a full day of throwing up or diareah (look, it's my blog, so I'll be as gross as I wanna be). It's usually just a day or so, where I can work from home in between toilet visits. It now seems like a minor embarrasement/inconvenience as I email my boss to tell him ONCE more that I'll be spending the day at home and am taking the necessary precautions.

And yet...I don't drink the water (though I use it to brush my teeth - I am currently reconsidering this), I don't eat at restaurants that are known to have poor hygiene habits, I wash my hands, I take a vitamin (but have stopped taking probiotics...which I should start back pronto!), I eat reasonably well, I'm active, and yet, I have taken to accept that having a puke day every month is the norm. Then - there are these guys - that drink more than any human liver could ever process, eat whatever/whenever, smoke three packs a day - and they get like... a runny nose once a year.

Noooooo...this isn't frustrating AT ALL.....

And yet, I want to stay here for another year??? I'm hoping to extend my contract? Am I trying to prove to myself that I can conquer Madagascar's ugly bacteria? To stay here until I can partake in the "10 second rule"; to eat un-bleached raw carrots; or even scarrier DRINK THE TAP WATER (!?!?!?!), without any nasty five-day-long side effects and an emergency trip to the doctors????

I don't know.

I think my drug cocktail has gone to my head.

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