It's late, but I can't sleep. The last couple months have been hard on me, but I think I'm finally ready to start sorting things out. I'm sick again, which is probably why I can't sleep. I haven't slept very much lately, so I've spent a lot of nights just tossing, turning, and thinking--about everything. The whole of my life. And 20 years is a long time to sift through. But I won't give you 20 years of thoughts here. This post will be a health update. Reflection will follow, when I have more energy.
To begin with, I have dysentery. I had a whole slew of health problems after returning from Ghana, including digestive issues and weight gain, but all the testing I went through gave me a clean bill of health. So I started eating better, picked up running again, and got a natural detox going (just to be sure I didn't have any microscopic passengers tagging along from Ghana). It didn't take long before my old jeans fit again and I was back on top of my game. I was ecstatic! Then last Friday, out of the blue, I was doubled over in pain trying to serve customers at my new job. By 8:30 I was sitting in Ottawa General with my poor sister-in-law waiting to see a doctor. I was so dehydrated from being sick I thought I might pass out. I felt bad for the doctor they sent in to see me, he was a resident and obviously had no idea what he was getting into when he asked for my medical history. He furiously scribbled away for half an hour while I rambled on about all the different things I'd been diagnosed with in the past. The tests they took were horrible. The nurse kept poking my right arm but all my veins were dried up from dehydration so she couldn't get any blood out of them for samples. She then moved to my left, at which point I got queasy feeling. Her response to my warning of a potential "man-down!" was "Just think happy thoughts!" She seemed genuinely disappointed when she asked what I was thinking about and I said "Nothing. My head feels like a bubble." She then requested if I could please try not to pass out on my way back to the waiting room. My condition had only worsened, they had not given me an IV, and yes, as shocking as this may sound, they were sending me home because they just didn't have room for me and according to the head doctor "It's not our problem". I walked out of the hospitable at 2:30 AM wondering whose problem it was...
I went to my brother's for the night so I didn't have to be alone and decided to travel home the next day with his family despite intentions to stay in Ottawa over Thanksgiving. I couldn't look after myself and had no family left in town that weekend to rely on. The trip back to Peterborough was one of the longest I'd ever made, including all the Greyhound milk-runs I've been on through the years. We had to keep stopping when I felt sick, my niece was grumpy from pulling her first all-nighter, and my nephew didn't understand why we weren't "there yet". The comfort of arriving home didn't last long though. At 3AM my mom rushed me to Peterborough Emergency, my second home, because I was in so much pain. I went through the ropes again. The waiting, the medical history, the waiting, the testing, the waiting... But this time I was rewarded: HELLO SALINE INFUSION! It only took three tries to get the IV in (a new record by Canadian healthcare professionals-I currently look like a junkie I have so many holes and bruises up my arms) and then sweet, sweet, bliss! (Saline is one of my best friends to date, although I'm hoping we see each other less often in the future.)
I returned home on Sunday with a little more pep and hope that I would get some news soon about my condition. Thursday rolled around. I was still sick and I still hadn't heard anything. So I called my doctor, who was on vacation. I called his on-call, who isn't open all day Thursday or at all on Fridays. So I called the on-call's on-call, who is open all day but only answers the phone between 7-10 AM and 2-4PM. Fed up, I called Emerge and asked to speak to the "Charged Physician", which I was told isn't usually okay, but I must've sounded desperate enough that the operator put me through. The doctor on-duty put me on hold while he went down to the lab to personally look for my file, which they "forgot" to send to my doctor or call me about. Turns out I have a shigella bacterial infection, causing dysentery. The doctor figures its the same infection I had while I was in Ghana, but the doctors there only gave me enough treatment to put the little guys in remission. Last Friday was their "Welcome Back" party (don't be offended if you weren't invited, the party games sucked). The doctor had never seen a two-month lapse before, but then again, he'd never had me for a patient either. He wrote me a prescription for ciprofloxacin and asked me to stay in town due to my bad track record with antibiotics.
I also found out that, in Canada, shigella infection is considered a rare disease. By law, the hospital had to report my case to the Public Health Unit, who then had to report to the government. I also received a home visit from a nurse so she could write up a report on my condition and inform me as to how I should proceed. Essentially, read the info packet on shigella that was downloaded off the internet and wash your hands lots. It was very enlightening!
I am now off school for another week, after already missing a week and three midterms, while I wait to see whether or not these antibiotics work. I'm not getting my hopes up--these are the same antibiotics I was on in Ghana, and shigella are known to build resistance to treatment, especially after multiple drug exposures. The cipro has already started to wreak havoc on my stomach, which constantly aches when empty. To try and counteract the terrorization of my gut I'm downing a 50 billion count acidophilus capsule once a day (the highest dose you can legally obtain). I like to think of them as my little mercenary team.
Today was a better day. I didn't nap once, got through some homework, and was able to take my dog for a walk without feeling like I was going to collapse. I also ate a veggie burger and a piece of apple pie--it sure beat broth and jello!
On the upside I am incredibly thankful that I am at home where I can get treatment for this sickness, even if it is slow-moving. Dysentery kills numerous people every day who simply can't afford, or don't have access to, treatment, healthcare, hygiene education, or sanitation facilities. I have all these things, along with an amazing support team made up of all those I love. There are a lot of sick people in the world who have no one but medical staff to rely on and illness is scary enough without having to go through it alone. I'm really one of the lucky ones, and that's what I'll think about next time anyone asks me to "think happy thoughts". Also, I would take a hundred cases of dysentery before I would ever regret traveling to Ghana, so if you're thinking about traveling overseas to learn something about the world, don't let this stop you! A little infection is a small price to pay for a wealth of knowledge. Shigella is just one of the many exciting things I brought home from Ghana, so be sure to read my follow up in a couple days!
Sweet dreams world...
