third world medicine

As I write this, my head aches...throbs...and exists in an imagined vice. My throat is back to a normal size and only a slight stuffiness remains in my nose.

Three nights ago I became sick. Not drastically so, but dramatically enough (courtesy of my nose)to trigger concern and the idea that I couldn't possibly teach like that. The bartender made me a fabulous hot ginger tea (with a bit of brandy, methinks) and sent me to bed.

The downside of being sick in paradise is that in order to take a sick day, one has to go to the Doctor and get a note. To go to the doctor, one needs to embark upon a journey by boat.

I went to reception to get a confirmation of times for the boat to Male' as well as the return. The receptionsist confirmed the departure time thrice, writing it down for me as a final measure. I left an hour and a half later, at noon.

I arrived without event to Male' where I walked to the hospital. I had two problems: a cold, and an infection from a cut on my leg. I thought I might as well get a blood test to make sure I didn't have anything bad in my system, as I've been having a lot of stomach problems since coming back from the local islands (I've now been to three). I was given slips to get me into both a general practice doctor and a skin doctor.

First up: the general doctor. I walked in, he motioned me to sit down and looked at me with a question in his eyes. "I have a cold, but in order to take a couple of days of rest, I need a note from a doctor." He nodded, took my pulse and blood pressure. The nurse stuck a thermometer in my ear. He looked at my throat and asked if it hurt. "A little," I replied. "You have a throat infection."

Ok, I was a little surprised, but not terribly, since I have a history of throat infections. That would also explain why my ears hurt. So far, so good. I told him about the stomach problems and asked if I could get a blood test for any kind of parasites, or anything that could possibly be wrong. No problem.

He wrote me a prescription that seemed a little long, I thanked him and left. Next up was the skin doctor. He took one look, said that it was minor, but the infection was beginning to spread. That's why I came. He took a look at the prescriptions given by the other doctor and blanched. He stumbled for words, seemed a bit shocked. Said that he wouldn't give me any more pills, as the antibiotic prescribed by the other doctor should work for this as well. He gave me a cortizone cream. I thanked him and made my way to the pharmacy.

A few minutes later, after my purse was relieved of almost 400 Rufiya, I found myself the confused owner of a large quantity of drugs.

I did a little food shopping, then made my way to Seagulls, the local overpriced ice-cream haven for ex-pats. The courtyard is enclosed by a large wooden fence, and inside it's typical tropical decor: umbrellas, sand, wooden benches, palm fronds, and plastic chairs. Ex-pats come there to get away from the local population. Face it, our white skin makes us a bit of a freak parade in brown countries. It's nice to just not be watched sometimes. I looked around, every table spoke a different European language. I settled in with a book in the far corner. I tried ordering four or five different types of fruit juices they didn't have that day, before finally giving up and getting a bottle of water.

Peace at last. (sniff) I thought about the medicine. Dragging out the bag I was amazed to discover no less than 6 different kinds! Although quite sure this was overkill, I wanted relief. "Take before food," hmmm..."Take after food," hmm..looking at my bottle of water, I decided that since I was fasting that day, this wasn't a point of contention. I downed the lot.

Ten minutes later, Seagulls went hippy. There were swirls everywhere. Everyone seemed to move with a special "jive". I texted my best friend. He didn't respond. I tried to ignore the pretty fairies and butterflies on the edge of my vision. Everything was in slow motion. I was panicked. I read my book. The naughty fairies flitted about. I read my book more intensely. Finally, I figured it was time to make a move. I tried to walk without staggering or falling sideways. Most of all, in this drug hating Muslim country, I tried NOT to attract attention.

I made my way to the airport to meet my boat. I took the ferry and arrived 40 minutes before the receptionist had said to be there. Not seeing our boat, I called the airport rep. He was already back at the resort, and the next boat didn't leave for another 5.5 hours! I was so very angry. I hopped on the next ferry back to Male. What else to do?

I...sorry, it's no good. All I really remember about that day are the things dancing in the air. No. Wait...I remember that then I was sitting at Jetty number 1, waiting for a ferry. There were some young men trying to get me to eat bananas. They were really surreal in the way they insisted. "They're Maldivian bananas..." one took and peeled one offering it to me. I shook my head no and thanked him. "Very tasty... try one..." another went to take a bite of his and offered me another. I was reminded of Snow White and the scene where the old woman gives her an apple. I told them I was fasting, thank you. Suddenly I remembered the hospital. A cab stopped in front of me. I got in. Then I was at the hospital. I asked the doctor what all of the medicines were for. Half were for individual symptoms, and the other half were for the side effects of the first half.

I thanked him and then...I was at the airport jetty. I had enough of Male' and decided to go and spend the rest of my hours in the airport hotel bar by the pool. The guys there greeted me warmly and I settled into my safe place with my book, two liters of water and a plate of limes. I spent about four hours there. I didn't make it home until 11pm. I didn't pass "Go, or collect $200," but went straight to my room. I unpacked my purchases and upon closer examination, the bag revealed one more drug marked "take one at night". This one didn't even have a drug name on it. I thought it must be to help me sleep.

I took all the medication again (as scheduled) including the new one to take at night. I had the most beautiful sleep of my life! The dreams were vivid, yet soft. I slept in a warm protective cloud, in the arms of someone from years ago, very special to my soul. He held me tenderly, leading me into each dream. Then I dreamed of my grandmother, dead these 17 years. The last time she visited me so clearly was 11 years ago. I was happy. Even returning to this world, to my single bed couldn't take this happiness. I got up and got dressed in the afternoon of the following day.

I looked up all of the drugs on the internet (save the nameless one to be taken at night) and found that they were truly excessive. An antihistimine (because I sneezed), an anti-biotic (fair enough, I had an infection), cough medicine in case I coughed, something in case I developed pain, and Zantac (an ULCER medicine)in case any of the others hurt my stomach! The effects of all of them combined left me terrified of my phone ringing, let alone any other sound!

"croak, croak" (my phone rings like a softly croaking frog) This would be followed by strong reverbations of terror through my system as I identified the source. "It's my phone. It's only my phone. Relax."

As I related my story today to a couple of friends (separately), they both had the same response, "Was this the Indian Dr?" "Yes." I replied.

It's been 24 hours now since I decided that the only medicine I needed to take was the anti-biotic. I'm happy to say that my phone can now ring as it will, the naughty fairies have gone, as have the butterflies and everyone hoola dancing.

I feel a bit beaten around the edges, but I know I'm going to be ok...God save me from ever being actually hospitalised here!