It’s always the slowest days that are the hardest. All the other
interns traveled to the Volta Region this weekend, and I stayed behind to do
laundry and work. Usually I like my free time, but the days are always too
long. I am always up at least by 5:30 or 6:00, and my day doesn’t get started
until at least noon. I tried to make my laundry last a long time, but I rubbed
my fingers raw and had to finish up the last of my laundry quickly to avoid the
horrible stinging of soap on open skin.
I’m also pretty sure I have a parasite by now. At least, I like to
think that I do. Sometimes it makes the world seem more humorous, that there
are disgusting little creatures that have learned to thrive off living in a
larger organism. Pretty gross….but pretty fascinating, you know?
This past Tuesday I was supposed to wake up early and travel to
Kwamoano to teach about nutrition. I woke up in the middle of the night with my
abdominal muscles cramping so hard, I couldn’t tell if I needed to puke or go
to the bathroom. My nausea made me almost delirious with pain. I remember
texting my proworld coordinator, Sarah, asking her if she could take me to the
clinic in the morning even though I hadn’t waited the recommended 24 hours to
see if it would pass. I thought I had texted her at almost 6 in the morning,
but it turns out it was around midnight, and I writhed in pain for hours.
I must have dozed off enough to sleep, because I woke up with the sun
shining and my mouth watering from the onslaught of nausea. I remember
stumbling to the clinic with Sarah and my coworker John, where they admitted me
and the doctor said, “You don’t look sick”. I think I just stared at his
mustache. I don’t remember what I said.
He had me lie on his examining table, and I remember I started crying
when he started poking my stomach. It hurt pretty badly, and he said it was
really tight in my lower bowels. He would have taken a stool sample (which dad
very much wanted), but I hadn’t brought enough money with me and he didn’t want
to keep me at the clinic for too long. So he decided I probably have been
eating contaminated food and he would put me on an IV drip with Ciprofloxacin,
a common antibiotic for bowel inflammation. I was already feeling a lot better
with the IV drip, but when the nurse put in the Cipro, my arm started burning
all the way up from the needle to my neck. I remember itching and scratching at
my shoulder, and the doctor came in to tell the nurse to take me off it
completely. I was having an allergic reaction to the Cipro, and dad was on the
phone (at 3:00 AM Utah time) alarmed at why I was hooked up to an IV without
further tests. So to make a long story short, the doctor prescribed me an oral
antibiotic and sent me home. My sweet auntie saw me on my way back, gave me a
hug, and a Ghanaian energy drink that’s the equivalent of Gatorade. So I did
nothing all day but lay in my bed, thinking about those parasitic bugs that eat
off a fish’s tongue and attaches itself to the stump.
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| Sarah took a picture of me before I left the clinic. I think I was laughing because I was a little giddy from the Cipro freaking me out. I was also probably trying to laugh off the thought about whether I had enough Cipro in my system to kill me... |
It’s hard to imagine that I’m counting down at this point. I will miss
Ghana and my friends here so much, but time is no respecter of persons. The
world will continue to move and the sun will rise and set whether I like it or
not. Each day lasts forever, and then it doesn’t last long enough. Before I know
it, I will be on that plane ride home to Utah. How do I know who I will be when
I go home? Am I supposed to know? I hope I am courageous and loving. I hope I
am smart and make good decisions. I hope I make and maintain good
relationships, and do my best to heal those relationships that are hurt. I hope
I can be a better person when I come home.
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