Be careful what you wish for!
Well the day has arrived. Ekyaha!
Before then…. Well in a lot of good families there resides a warning that normally comes from your mother. “BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR”
A while back we were discussing our expanding waist lines and I glibly stated “all I need is a dose of Malaria and that should be good for 5kg”
Well. The fate gods – and 1 monster fucking mozzie who loves Captains and Garlic – laughed and gave me what I wished for.
Now you can go back in this blog and see that in the almost two years I have been in this wonderful jungle I have had malaria but once. I LIED! I have not had malaria before this past Saturday.
OH MY FUCK! If death was an option I would have welcomed it with open arms and paid for the joy.
I woke up at around 2am on Saturday morning after what I call “you have a high temperature “ series of dreams. You know those dreams that are pretty weird and warped and redefine life as it could be if you took acid when you were young. Those dreams.
By 4am I had a headache to rival all headaches. I was sweating, shivering and generally feeling like death. I still like a fool went to work.
I lasted the sum total of 15 minutes at work. I went home and slept the sleep of the dead, after popping pain pills to allow the headache to recede behind a ring of fire.
As sure as god made lil apples, crises time and it appears that our major client had a small mishap with a stacker conveyor crashing down onto its side. We were called in – flashing lights and all – to please assist.
I managed 2pm. You have to believe I was so bloody cold – in Ghana 38 degree heat - that I climbed into the car, closed the windows and lay in the sun until Albert decided it would look bad on his resume if his GM died in the car outside the office. He told me to go home and “chill”
I slept the rest of the day and night.
Sunday morning I woke and again had to go to work to price this stacker collapse. Again I made around one hour, before staggering home. A phone call at 12 reminded me I had a meeting with a guy who drove through from Accra.
Back in the car and 20 mins with said guy before I begged off. At this stage I was sweating so much my shirt was literally sticking to me.
Carlos decided I needed to see a Doctor.
(Oh yes – up until this stage I had been self medicating with Chinese Malarial Remedy and Panado)
There is a reason why I do not care much for the medical fraternity as a whole and Ghana quacks in particular. They are all subject to guess work and errors are rife.
The good doctor I had the pleasure of seeing was a case in point.
Doc: Whats wrong
Me Maleria
Doc how do you know
Me Cause I am sweating, sore, nausea, headache, etc
Doc Yes that sounds like malaria.
(No shit Sherlock)
Doc My lab people are off, so I cannot do a blood test
Me I have been taking (name of muti)
Doc Oh well, then I cannot do a blood test as the medication will mask the parasites
Me Good thing you do not have a lab person in then.
The doc proceeds to take my blood pressure. 90/60
Aha - that’s where the headache and nausea is coming from I think
Doc Good to see you have avoided all the stresses of life
Me erm I think my blood pressure is normally higher that what it is now
Doc Oh – must be the malaria then.
(no shit Sherlock)
Doc then starts preparing injections.
Me hopefully no penicillin in that
Doc No
Me Good cause if you had asked – I am allergic
Doc To all sorts?
Me There is more than one sort?
Doc Well there is synthetic penicillin
Me Ah – but that’s synthetic
Doc yes
Now: again
Remember when your doc takes out a vial that has dried powder in it, mixes the powder with STERILE water and makes up the muti mix. Well the pharmaceutical companies have made it easier since my days of jabbing people. The make a nice little glass vial with two compartments. One with the water, one with the dry powder. Simple logic says you stick the needle into compartment “water” – draw up the water – pierce from compartment water to compartment powder. – Squirt – shake – draw
Not my paragon of wisdom
He comes back with a small plastic vial of water. You know those cheap plastic bottles that you use for erm…. No idea what you use them for but I can lay odds that the manufacturers did not envision it been used for a replacement of sterile water.
When I pointed this out to said doctor, his response was a glib “it is distilled water”
I gave up at this point.
Received 3 injections in my arse.
My headache vanished!
The only reason why my headache vanished was my arse was so fucking sore from the injections my pain receptacles were over ridden.
I swore – volumes of sailor type words and went home.
I slept the sleep of the dead - sore arse and all.
Well today is Wednesday. My headache is gone; I retch continuously and sweat buckets.
You know you are really sick when you smoke 3 ciggies a day instead of 40. I cannot handle a smoke. Tis sad.
All this and I go home in two days.
Say after me – FUCK!!
Another more worrying factor is my basic knowledge that the color of ones urine is an important indicator as to ones health. My pee is the color of tea. Black Tea.
Do you think I can find some pee sticks to see what interesting things I am secreting? Not a fuck in this place.
So one of the things I am doing when I get home is toddling off for a urine test to see what funny stuff is coming out of my body.
Am I unhappy
You damn right I am unhappy.
(and Bubs – when you read this – do NOT tell the old man. I will never hear the end of it!)
I go now!
Before then…. Well in a lot of good families there resides a warning that normally comes from your mother. “BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR”
A while back we were discussing our expanding waist lines and I glibly stated “all I need is a dose of Malaria and that should be good for 5kg”
Well. The fate gods – and 1 monster fucking mozzie who loves Captains and Garlic – laughed and gave me what I wished for.
Now you can go back in this blog and see that in the almost two years I have been in this wonderful jungle I have had malaria but once. I LIED! I have not had malaria before this past Saturday.
OH MY FUCK! If death was an option I would have welcomed it with open arms and paid for the joy.
I woke up at around 2am on Saturday morning after what I call “you have a high temperature “ series of dreams. You know those dreams that are pretty weird and warped and redefine life as it could be if you took acid when you were young. Those dreams.
By 4am I had a headache to rival all headaches. I was sweating, shivering and generally feeling like death. I still like a fool went to work.
I lasted the sum total of 15 minutes at work. I went home and slept the sleep of the dead, after popping pain pills to allow the headache to recede behind a ring of fire.
As sure as god made lil apples, crises time and it appears that our major client had a small mishap with a stacker conveyor crashing down onto its side. We were called in – flashing lights and all – to please assist.
I managed 2pm. You have to believe I was so bloody cold – in Ghana 38 degree heat - that I climbed into the car, closed the windows and lay in the sun until Albert decided it would look bad on his resume if his GM died in the car outside the office. He told me to go home and “chill”
I slept the rest of the day and night.
Sunday morning I woke and again had to go to work to price this stacker collapse. Again I made around one hour, before staggering home. A phone call at 12 reminded me I had a meeting with a guy who drove through from Accra.
Back in the car and 20 mins with said guy before I begged off. At this stage I was sweating so much my shirt was literally sticking to me.
Carlos decided I needed to see a Doctor.
(Oh yes – up until this stage I had been self medicating with Chinese Malarial Remedy and Panado)
There is a reason why I do not care much for the medical fraternity as a whole and Ghana quacks in particular. They are all subject to guess work and errors are rife.
The good doctor I had the pleasure of seeing was a case in point.
Doc: Whats wrong
Me Maleria
Doc how do you know
Me Cause I am sweating, sore, nausea, headache, etc
Doc Yes that sounds like malaria.
(No shit Sherlock)
Doc My lab people are off, so I cannot do a blood test
Me I have been taking (name of muti)
Doc Oh well, then I cannot do a blood test as the medication will mask the parasites
Me Good thing you do not have a lab person in then.
The doc proceeds to take my blood pressure. 90/60
Aha - that’s where the headache and nausea is coming from I think
Doc Good to see you have avoided all the stresses of life
Me erm I think my blood pressure is normally higher that what it is now
Doc Oh – must be the malaria then.
(no shit Sherlock)
Doc then starts preparing injections.
Me hopefully no penicillin in that
Doc No
Me Good cause if you had asked – I am allergic
Doc To all sorts?
Me There is more than one sort?
Doc Well there is synthetic penicillin
Me Ah – but that’s synthetic
Doc yes
Now: again
Remember when your doc takes out a vial that has dried powder in it, mixes the powder with STERILE water and makes up the muti mix. Well the pharmaceutical companies have made it easier since my days of jabbing people. The make a nice little glass vial with two compartments. One with the water, one with the dry powder. Simple logic says you stick the needle into compartment “water” – draw up the water – pierce from compartment water to compartment powder. – Squirt – shake – draw
Not my paragon of wisdom
He comes back with a small plastic vial of water. You know those cheap plastic bottles that you use for erm…. No idea what you use them for but I can lay odds that the manufacturers did not envision it been used for a replacement of sterile water.
When I pointed this out to said doctor, his response was a glib “it is distilled water”
I gave up at this point.
Received 3 injections in my arse.
My headache vanished!
The only reason why my headache vanished was my arse was so fucking sore from the injections my pain receptacles were over ridden.
I swore – volumes of sailor type words and went home.
I slept the sleep of the dead - sore arse and all.
Well today is Wednesday. My headache is gone; I retch continuously and sweat buckets.
You know you are really sick when you smoke 3 ciggies a day instead of 40. I cannot handle a smoke. Tis sad.
All this and I go home in two days.
Say after me – FUCK!!
Another more worrying factor is my basic knowledge that the color of ones urine is an important indicator as to ones health. My pee is the color of tea. Black Tea.
Do you think I can find some pee sticks to see what interesting things I am secreting? Not a fuck in this place.
So one of the things I am doing when I get home is toddling off for a urine test to see what funny stuff is coming out of my body.
Am I unhappy
You damn right I am unhappy.
(and Bubs – when you read this – do NOT tell the old man. I will never hear the end of it!)
I go now!
2 Comments:
proper doctors, in clean western style hospitals are a must when Malaria strikes.
There are easier ways to loose weight ;)
lil bro, I am so sorry that you are not well but you have to be the only person that I know who can be so sick and still come up with some smart comment. I still had my giggle at your descriptions! No, I won't tell the old man, didn't plan on speaking to him before Sunday, you know Easter!! But not the Greek Easter, we celebrate next week. Hope you feel better by the time to get down South and please Nessers diversion straight to the hospital, clinic or doctor. Lots of love and kisses and thinking about you. Will chat on the weekend when you are home safe. xxx
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