In my last major post I alluded to being sick but never said exactly what it is that I had. Because at that time, I didn't know myself. I just knew that I had extreme nausea and feces that was different from the norm in both colour and form. (Don't worry, Fred, that's as detailed as I'm going to go). It was only when I started vomiting that I got really scared. I never vomit. At all. In fact, the only time that I can remember throwing up within the last 15 years involved 6 shots of tequila and one hideous shot of this absolutely disgusting alcohol that I don't remember the name of. But I never throw up when I'm sick. I love food too much. And yet, for a period of 5 days, I didn't keep anything down. Scary stuff, man. I went to the hospital and they gave me some pills, but I was still so sick.
(Here's a funny story, though. When I was in Dharamsalah, I was at probably the height of my illness and due to food deprivation since I couldn't eat, sleep deprivation after waking up 3 am to vomit, and just overall feeling of crapiness, I wasn't my usual perky self. So when these two skeezy Tibetans kept on trying to chat me up when I was walking on the street, I was not in a very good mood. Nothing I could do would discourage them...until one day when I went to buy bottled water. As the store owner went to get some, I was hit by this wave of nausea and knew what was coming next. The two skeezy Tibetans were right beside me, trying to talk, when suddenly I leaned over, and in the middle of the street, vomited. Twice. They jumped out of the way, but I'm not sure if they did it fast enough. And let's just say that after that incident, they never bothered me again.)
So, like, anywho, I continued to feel ill and somehow made my way into Delhi where I just broke down and went to another doctor. He did a stool test and found out that I had a bacterial infection so gave me antibiotics and some other pills. I took the meds and slowly, slowly started to feel better. Luckily, I didn't have to fly home early and I gradually started eating again, so I didn't have to go on an IV. But when I came back home to Canada, one of the first things that my mother did was take me to a doctor. A blood test revealed that I also had Hepatitis A, which explained why my symptoms were so severe. Hep A is transmitted via contaminated food and water so I am not horribly contagious. In some twisted way, I was relieved by hearing that it was Hep because it proved that I wasn't just exaggerating how sick I felt.
Actually, those few weeks were the sickest that I've ever been in my entire life...and the most scared. I sort of thought that I was strong and capable of withstanding severe hardships, but getting so sick really made me realize how weak I actually am. When I was lying in bed or leaning against the toilet, all I wanted was my mommy to come and take care of me. It was an awful experience but really helped ground me. And it also made me realize how much I appreciate being healthy. There are so many people in the world in chronic pain and I was so wimpy after a few weeks of being sick. Yikes. Plus, since I had no energy to do anything more exerting than lying in bed, I got to catch up on my television watching and have officially become an Oprah fan. And finally, I am a reasonably competitive person and can almost match my sister Ilana who came to India and got Malaria and Dengue fever. I got Hepatitis A and a bacterial infection. Who was sicker? It's a pretty close draw, eh?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment