Monday- Thursday:
Man is it hot or what?
Why am I sweating so much?
Why does no one else have sweat pouring down their faces?
Why does my body hurts everywhere? I have been working a
lot.
Man I can feel my heart beating super fast and hard. Slow
deep breaths. I’m not nervous so it must be the heat.
Oh no! Please God don’t let it be Malaria.
Friday:
It is international women’s day. No women are working at the
hospital today. Well no Tchadian women at least. Fete (Party) at the Nettenbergs.
Woot!
POSITIVE malaria
test. 0.05%. Ok its low that’s good.
All the women that work at the hospital have prepared food
for us to eat YUM I love local food. I just hope my hot flashes and urge to
vomit controls itself.
I feel like I just jumped into the river. My clothes are
sticking to me. My hair is matted to my face and neck. I think I’m going to
pass out.
I just need to make it through the meal and get home.
The food comes and it is so hot that it makes me sweat even
more. The rice and sauce smell great but I push the meat away. There is no way
I’m chocking that down.
I get 5 bits in and I can go no further. My sweat glands are
working over time and I’m getting more anxious by the minute. I have to get out
of here.
Home at last. Now to chock down 4 Malarone pills. I hate
taking pills. Malarone or death? Hmmm I guess ill go with the Malarone.
Couldn’t it come in a fun fruit flavored syrup?
Saturday:
I wish death would face me when it decides to beat me with
his stick instead I have to wake up to his brutal assault. Headache, stomachache,
whole body weakness.
I spend the whole day in bed. Until sundown when I have to
go to work for a few hours. It’s miserable but its going to be worth not having
to work on Sunday so I can get away and go to Moundou.
Sunday:
Still not feeling 100%.
I’m off toMoundou. YES!!! The big city.
I feel so miserable my nose will not stop running. My head
feels like its going to explode and its so HOT.
A grocery store, yum. Juice, chips, coffee, ketchup and
SNICKERS!!! Doth my eyes deceive me. Its been to long. Even this hole in the
wall with shelves looks just as good as Hy-Vee back home compared to the dirt
vegetable stands in Béré.
This man has been following me for a while…hmm why does he
keep bumping into me. He thinks I’m stupid. I know he’s trying to get into my
backpack. I put my bag in front of me. He is so not smooth. But he’s going to
try again. It’s crowded and people are bumping to each other on all sides. He
runs into me again this time from the front I see his hand go for the zipper to my
small front pocket and for a second I just look at him. “Dude I
can see you.” I grab his hand and give him a shove and yell at him as I
give him my grrr face. He may not understand the words coming out my mouth but
trust me my face speaks every language and he knew what it was saying.
Not the best trip but it was good to get away from Béré for
a little while.
On the car ride back home I choke down the last 4 Malarone
pills and 3 Fansidar to kill the off the malaria. And as I gag and almost puke
with each pill I pray to God that I never get Malaria again. I hate taking
pills.
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