Tropical Diseases, Finally We Meet!

It's been four years since I first came to Africa, and in those four years I never contracted any of the various illnesses floating around me. That's a pretty decent run, I'd say. Well, the run is now finished.

I came down first with malaria, and then typhoid, in the space of one week.

On the evening of the previous Thursday (14th), I noticed a headache. Then it was there again Friday afternoon and evening. Except I wasn't exactly sure what it was, because I never get headaches. I chalked it up to weariness--my body demanding the sleep it hadn't been getting in a busy, stressful season. But I still felt less than great Saturday, head aching continually (unless I was eating... hmm!). By Sunday I was glad the weirdness had passed... except it hadn't. Evening came, and I realized the returning headache was now a low fever. I called my teammates to tell them I wouldn't be able to teach the next day.

So now I know how my body reacts to malaria. I'd heard about getting chills & stuff, but apparently that's not my style.

Because the "weirdness" was indeed malaria, in its beginning stages. As I was lying around Monday feeling weak from the temperature I was running, but not sick in any other way, my more experienced colleagues decided it was time to take me in for a blood test. Thanks to them, we caught it very early.

The fun thing about malaria is that the meds you take often make you feel worse than the disease itself. (That is, if you don't wait. Malaria is cyclical, coming back harder each time.) My fever kept rising, subsiding a little, and then rising even higher. To amuse myself, I cheered it on. "Come on, white blood cells! You can do more than that! Let's make 102.5°!" My WBC did even better, pushing the fever to 103° late that first night. I thought that was satisfactory, but Tuesday saw the thermometer register 103.7°. (That's 39.8°C, the highest I recorded.)

This was me on Tuesday, countering a 103+° fever with wet washcloths.

I didn't worry too much when the fever was still there on Wednesday. But when Thursday rolled around and my fever was still flaring, my friends took me back to the clinic for another test. This time it turned up typhoid! Why not? Anything else I can contract? Let's get this over with.

Generally I enjoy excellent health, so some part of my brain found it interesting to make observations during the whole episode. I watched my energy decline farther than I knew possible from my own experience. Sure, on Monday I could put some of my forced "down time" to good use. Later I couldn't really do more than take stuff in, like watching a game or a show. Eventually even that was just not necessary. I would lie still for ages, not thinking, not bored, just... still. Sometimes I would remember that if I wanted a drink, all I had to do was move my arm--but did I really want it that much?

Meanwhile my teammates took good care of me. A couple of the moms stepped in to substitute teach, so my students' education continued, too. Because the classrooms share the property with my house, the adults would come check on me during breaks. The whole team filled my fridge with food. They also kept after me to actually eat it! (Even eating took so much energy, I could eat very little at a time.)

Has my refrigerator ever held so much food?

Here's a shot of one special gift I received: chocolate cake with a lovely get-well letter. :)

The typhoid antibiotics made a difference, and I was feeling better even by the next day (Friday). I gradually recovered over the weekend, but couldn't quite summon the energy to teach Monday, so one of the fabulous parents came yet again. They let me ease back into normal life by teaching just a half day on Tuesday. Everyone has been great, showing patience as I recover--and urging me to be patient with myself!

Now I feel like I can say I'm an experienced missionary in Africa, ha ha!