After you spend some time in the tropics, you learn that getting sick is inevitable and usually more intense than in colder climates. Evidence of this can be offered up by the plethora of exciting illnesses one can catch on an exotic adventure compared to the laundry list of common ailments from back home.
My tenure in the US Virgin Islands offered up my first taste of what it’s like to be attacked by the jungle. I was constantly plagued with minor threats there and always had something to complain about. I ran the gamut of inflamed rashes, swollen shut eyes, debilitating cramps, infections, and was always covered head to toe in mosquito bites. Shortly before I parted ways with the Caribbean, a Doctor at the clinic had said to me; “I don’t think the Caribbean likes you. It might be time to go home.” I have bitterly resented his words sense they left his mouth. The proof of this is that I have found myself, once again, in the jungle. Maybe out of spite, maybe out of masochism, or maybe just because it’s so much damn fun.
While exploring the equator, a place where my peoples were not meant to tread - being scandinavian and all, I have seen many amazing things. I’ve been meeting amazing people every day, seeing beautiful landscapes, interesting and sometimes scary animals, and found lots of interesting foods and plants. I have also finally come to terms with my old friend I avoided so expertly in the Caribbean; Dengue.
I’ve always heard horror stories about Dengue and have had a vague knowledge about what it would be like to become ill with this elusive fever. I was certain I could expect bone crushing pain that would prevent me from moving, vomiting, fevers, and tears. I was however, met with a much different experience.
One night I found myself having trouble sleeping. I had a headache and my joints were sore. I was sleeping on the beach in a tent, so I just assumed it was the sand that was uncomfortable and the lack of a breeze that evening. I woke early, walked the beach and returned to my tent absolutely exhausted and napped a little while longer. For the next day or so I was extra lethargic and had a lingering headache. My eyes starting hurting the next night, a sure sign I was told, of dengue or malaria.
In the morning I decided it was best to trek away from my tiny village in search of some answers to my new lethargy and burning eye pain. After some convincing of the villagers that I had more than just a headache and needed to leave them for the doctor, I hopped on my scooter and made my way across the island for the clinic.
At the clinic I received a blood test and was alerted that I had typhoid. I did not see that one coming. Typhoid is unheard of in the Western World and I’d also been vaccinated before I left the states. In addition I had this eye pain that was so commonly associated with mosquito induced viruses. But the clinic said I had typhoid, so I must have typhoid! I spent the next 3 days at home sleeping it off and getting blood tests every morning. Eventually my blood platelet numbers dropped low enough that the clinic decided I should stay there overnight and receive an IV as I was very dehydrated.
This news was very disappointing to me as I had a ceremony to attend that day in my village for our house they had just finished building. My plans were foiled however and I was to remain there with my typhoid. Missing the big day was one thing in itself, but to now receive a crash course in rugged, remote clinic life was another thing altogether. Learning what hardships are like when you’re already sick is a rough road to go down.
The clinic set me up in my own room with air conditioning, which was nice. But this clinic isn’t well funded and does the best they can with the little money they have. This meant I received no blanket, the nurses checked on me - if I was lucky, I spent a large amount of time monitoring my own IV bag, the bathroom was not cleaned, and they were many, many locals packed into the other beds at the clinic. In order to get to the bathroom, I had to stumble through a room with 5 beds filled with sick locals with my IV stand that didn’t roll, just scraped. The bathroom had no light and the window had no screen. The floor was covered in water and other fluids and it was so small I had to do some quick maneuvering to get myself and my IV stand in the bathroom together.
As I was on a drip IV, I made a lot of trips to the restroom. This quickly became the longest 24 hours of my life. When they took my blood sample the next morning, they informed me my platelet counts had dropped again and that I now had dengue. I was looking at staying in the clinic for around 1 week. Upon hearing that information I laughed and asked them to remove me from my IV. I would not be staying there for a week solely based on the bathroom, disregard the myriad other reasons I was utterly uncomfortable. It took some convincing for them to let me go, but they finally did.
Upon being released I bee lined it for Bali where there are many hospitals with modern technology and janitors. I was instructed by the clinic to go straight to the hospital and get hooked back up to the IV immediately because my typhoid had turned into dengue and that was surely not good. I arrived in Balie to be turned away at the hospital. They explained they didn’t know what I had, but it wasn’t bad enough to treat me as an inpatient.
Oh the confusion!!! You have typhoid, no wait you have dengue. You have to stay here for a week you’re so sick, I’m sorry we can’t let you stay here because you’re not sick enough. Imagine the headache I had now. With this news, I left the hospital in search of a dark hole to climb into and recover in. I found it once again in Sanur where I continue to find myself constantly.
Here I spent the last 3 days hiding from the heat and chugging water. Leaving to receive daily blood tests again at the hospital. They have been checking my platelet counts, for malaria, for typhoid, and finally today for dengue. My platelet counts had still been going down daily with the imminent threat of very expensive hospitalization. However, it was taking them 12 hours each day to get the results back to me, compared to the 15 minute wait in Labuan Bajo at the clinic I had just ran away from.
Nobody anywhere at this point in time could actually tell me what was wrong with me and nobody could actually help me with my unknown illness. I was so bored of the elusiveness and lack of medical knowledge surrounding my situation that I basically gave up on them and decided I would just hide and drink guava juice until I felt better.
Then today I finally received some answers!! It had turned out I never had typhoid even though I had been diagnosed with typhoid AND dengue in Labuan Bajo. I didn’t have malaria, the hospital wanted to rule this out. But it was confirmed that I had dengue - and also - my platelet numbers had increased overnight drastically. So my knowledge of having had dengue was perfectly useless because I was already on the up and up. But at least I know now.
As it stands I feel fine and and am very near to recovery. I have one more date with the hospital tomorrow morning for a final blood test. Where they’re going to get the blood, I don’t know, my veins are all dried up from a week of blood tests. Then I can finally go home and return to work.
Between the medical ‘professionals’ and being sick, this has been one really long week. It’s also been a good reminder to preserve my health and take as good of care as myself as I can, especially when living in the middle of nowhere. It’s been frustrating. It’s been revealing. It’s been interesting…...and hilarious. I am very thankful my case of dengue was not severe and I was able to take care of my self for the most part.
Be careful out there friends, danger lurks and fun awaits. Take care of yourselves and eat healthy, don’t fall victim to the Asian healthcare system, it’s not pretty.
My tenure in the US Virgin Islands offered up my first taste of what it’s like to be attacked by the jungle. I was constantly plagued with minor threats there and always had something to complain about. I ran the gamut of inflamed rashes, swollen shut eyes, debilitating cramps, infections, and was always covered head to toe in mosquito bites. Shortly before I parted ways with the Caribbean, a Doctor at the clinic had said to me; “I don’t think the Caribbean likes you. It might be time to go home.” I have bitterly resented his words sense they left his mouth. The proof of this is that I have found myself, once again, in the jungle. Maybe out of spite, maybe out of masochism, or maybe just because it’s so much damn fun.
While exploring the equator, a place where my peoples were not meant to tread - being scandinavian and all, I have seen many amazing things. I’ve been meeting amazing people every day, seeing beautiful landscapes, interesting and sometimes scary animals, and found lots of interesting foods and plants. I have also finally come to terms with my old friend I avoided so expertly in the Caribbean; Dengue.
I’ve always heard horror stories about Dengue and have had a vague knowledge about what it would be like to become ill with this elusive fever. I was certain I could expect bone crushing pain that would prevent me from moving, vomiting, fevers, and tears. I was however, met with a much different experience.
One night I found myself having trouble sleeping. I had a headache and my joints were sore. I was sleeping on the beach in a tent, so I just assumed it was the sand that was uncomfortable and the lack of a breeze that evening. I woke early, walked the beach and returned to my tent absolutely exhausted and napped a little while longer. For the next day or so I was extra lethargic and had a lingering headache. My eyes starting hurting the next night, a sure sign I was told, of dengue or malaria.
In the morning I decided it was best to trek away from my tiny village in search of some answers to my new lethargy and burning eye pain. After some convincing of the villagers that I had more than just a headache and needed to leave them for the doctor, I hopped on my scooter and made my way across the island for the clinic.
At the clinic I received a blood test and was alerted that I had typhoid. I did not see that one coming. Typhoid is unheard of in the Western World and I’d also been vaccinated before I left the states. In addition I had this eye pain that was so commonly associated with mosquito induced viruses. But the clinic said I had typhoid, so I must have typhoid! I spent the next 3 days at home sleeping it off and getting blood tests every morning. Eventually my blood platelet numbers dropped low enough that the clinic decided I should stay there overnight and receive an IV as I was very dehydrated.
This news was very disappointing to me as I had a ceremony to attend that day in my village for our house they had just finished building. My plans were foiled however and I was to remain there with my typhoid. Missing the big day was one thing in itself, but to now receive a crash course in rugged, remote clinic life was another thing altogether. Learning what hardships are like when you’re already sick is a rough road to go down.
The clinic set me up in my own room with air conditioning, which was nice. But this clinic isn’t well funded and does the best they can with the little money they have. This meant I received no blanket, the nurses checked on me - if I was lucky, I spent a large amount of time monitoring my own IV bag, the bathroom was not cleaned, and they were many, many locals packed into the other beds at the clinic. In order to get to the bathroom, I had to stumble through a room with 5 beds filled with sick locals with my IV stand that didn’t roll, just scraped. The bathroom had no light and the window had no screen. The floor was covered in water and other fluids and it was so small I had to do some quick maneuvering to get myself and my IV stand in the bathroom together.
As I was on a drip IV, I made a lot of trips to the restroom. This quickly became the longest 24 hours of my life. When they took my blood sample the next morning, they informed me my platelet counts had dropped again and that I now had dengue. I was looking at staying in the clinic for around 1 week. Upon hearing that information I laughed and asked them to remove me from my IV. I would not be staying there for a week solely based on the bathroom, disregard the myriad other reasons I was utterly uncomfortable. It took some convincing for them to let me go, but they finally did.
Upon being released I bee lined it for Bali where there are many hospitals with modern technology and janitors. I was instructed by the clinic to go straight to the hospital and get hooked back up to the IV immediately because my typhoid had turned into dengue and that was surely not good. I arrived in Balie to be turned away at the hospital. They explained they didn’t know what I had, but it wasn’t bad enough to treat me as an inpatient.
Oh the confusion!!! You have typhoid, no wait you have dengue. You have to stay here for a week you’re so sick, I’m sorry we can’t let you stay here because you’re not sick enough. Imagine the headache I had now. With this news, I left the hospital in search of a dark hole to climb into and recover in. I found it once again in Sanur where I continue to find myself constantly.
Here I spent the last 3 days hiding from the heat and chugging water. Leaving to receive daily blood tests again at the hospital. They have been checking my platelet counts, for malaria, for typhoid, and finally today for dengue. My platelet counts had still been going down daily with the imminent threat of very expensive hospitalization. However, it was taking them 12 hours each day to get the results back to me, compared to the 15 minute wait in Labuan Bajo at the clinic I had just ran away from.
Nobody anywhere at this point in time could actually tell me what was wrong with me and nobody could actually help me with my unknown illness. I was so bored of the elusiveness and lack of medical knowledge surrounding my situation that I basically gave up on them and decided I would just hide and drink guava juice until I felt better.
Then today I finally received some answers!! It had turned out I never had typhoid even though I had been diagnosed with typhoid AND dengue in Labuan Bajo. I didn’t have malaria, the hospital wanted to rule this out. But it was confirmed that I had dengue - and also - my platelet numbers had increased overnight drastically. So my knowledge of having had dengue was perfectly useless because I was already on the up and up. But at least I know now.
As it stands I feel fine and and am very near to recovery. I have one more date with the hospital tomorrow morning for a final blood test. Where they’re going to get the blood, I don’t know, my veins are all dried up from a week of blood tests. Then I can finally go home and return to work.
Between the medical ‘professionals’ and being sick, this has been one really long week. It’s also been a good reminder to preserve my health and take as good of care as myself as I can, especially when living in the middle of nowhere. It’s been frustrating. It’s been revealing. It’s been interesting…...and hilarious. I am very thankful my case of dengue was not severe and I was able to take care of my self for the most part.
Be careful out there friends, danger lurks and fun awaits. Take care of yourselves and eat healthy, don’t fall victim to the Asian healthcare system, it’s not pretty.