Malaria, typhoid, and salmonella - oh my!

Well it's been a while. A long while. And I think that most of you know why. I've been extremely sick. I no sooner moved into my teacher's home in Port on Monday then I started to feel sick on Tuesday and by Wednesday I had a temperature that kept climbing til it got to 104.8!

 A few days of feverish delirium ensued before a doctor was called in - he wanted to do some tests at the hospital so away we went. The next day revealed apparently no malaria - but he started me on malaria meds anyway. When my fever did not improve he asked me to come back to the hospital only for more tests but ended up keeping me for observation. I had an IV put in as I had not been able to keep anything down for the past few days - including jello water - you know that was bad! I'm not an easy stick when I'm partially hydrated - it was even harder being so dehydrated - but they did get it after a few attempts.

My tests results came back with Salmonella O and Salmonella H being 1/320 and 1/600 - I was so sick I asked what the normal was?!? :D

The room I was in was nice. Air conditioned and cool. I shared with two other patients both with respiratory infections - praise the Lord I didn't come down with pneumonia as well. They each had a a person staying with them. And Camitha my friend from 'home' stayed with me the whole night. She was such a good friend.

The doctor made fairly regular check ups on me. Sometimes by himself and sometimes with another doctor friend. At one point we got talking about the action films we all liked :D

The rest of the hospital was horrible. I've since been told that it (the General Hospital) is the worst hospital in Haiti. The beds of the patients were sometimes just mats on the floor. Friends or relatives would hold up IV fluids where there were no IV poles. Gaunt faces stared out from emaciated bodies. The smells were a mixture of cleaning fluid and rotting flesh.

Whenever I needed to use the bathroom the doctor would walk with me holding my IV fluids as we walked through various wards - the last of which was the worst. It smelled the worst and it was the ward for prisoners. So the patients were all chained to their beds - some of the beds had two patients one chained to each siderail. I saw one patient who was an arm amputee he was chained by the leg.

The bathroom was just a tiny little room with the toilet and sink. Trying to use the facilities with an IV and a skirt with barely enough room to turn around in was an adventure - but not a fun one. The one time I had TWO IV bags - one was the antibiotic - there was a screw that was holding a pipe in the wall and we had hung the IV bags on that!

Every time I came back I vomited. I don't know if it was the sickness? The smells? the walk? or a combination. The one time we came back they were carrying a litter with a body under a sheet - rather ominous. I almost dreaded coming back because I knew I was going to be sick. But someone was always there - Camitha borrowed the bucket from the lady with the respiratory infection and the doctor patted my back or held my hand.

I did manage to get a few hours sleep sometime between 2 and 4 in the morning.

I was discharged from the hospital late the following morning and taken back to Charlotte's house. The Doctor said he'd usually keep a patient like me in for another day but he trusted me. That I would take the medicine he was prescribing on time and with diligence. He wanted me on them for 10 days and he didn't think I should go to Cap any time soon.

When we got home I was still out of it - I can't remember all that happened a lot is a blur, a lot I WANT to forget. I know that they brought me food and I said I was sorry I couldn't eat it - it was Haitian food and 'strange' to my stomach. They were able to get some 'american' food for me but even that wasn't appetizing. I didn't eat for a few days.

The Sunday I came home after the church service some of the members came up and sang, and prayed around my bed - very cultural but a little embarrassing. I think there were nine people including two children and two men. The two men turned out to be the Doctor's brothers. One a policeman and the other a doctor himself. So after the 'blessing service' they stayed and talked for a bit - the doctor making sure I was taking my meds and drinking - I said I was trying.

On Monday I was moved back to the Villa - where it became apparent that I was reacting to the Ciprofloxacin - the antibiotic I had been instructed to take - the palms of my hands were so itchy and felt like they would never stop. I felt well enough to join a prayer/praise meeting that a group was having. They laid hands on me and asked the Lord to bring healing. The next day I felt a lot better but then began to get worse again - the decision was made to fly me to Cap Haitian where OMS's Clinic is - so that our Doctor and Nurses there could take care of me.

So a short flight the next morning brought me to Cap! I went to the clinic and was eventually put into a bed and a few more IV attempts later started on another round of fluids and a different antibiotic. I was transferred to the house I wil be living in now - Number 6 with Erica who teaches at Cowman.

I made a few trips back to the Clinic after my feet and legs began to itch like crazy - two separate days -  the first Miss Prudence practically dragged me down to the Clinic I was repeating 'itchy, itchy, itchy' over and over - I couldn't figure out why they were so itchy? nothing I had done at home helped? washing with cold water/ washing with warm water/putting anti-itch powder on them. She put hydrocortisone cream all over them and someone jabbed me in the thigh with a shot of phenergen - it's STILL sore. The next day I dragged myself down there and had almost the same thing happen. Only it was the other thigh that got the jab - it's still sore too but not as bad.

Most of what happened wasn't too clear - I kept telling myself: this isn't real. This isn't happening. they wouldn't treat me like this. For example the day after I got in was a Sunday - I lost track of days but I know it was a Sunday - because there was nobody around. I felt like I was dying. I wanted to die. I know so many people ALL around the world were praying for me. From Japan to Australia, and the UK to Mozambique not to mention people here in Haiti and in the States. Thankfully internet was working and one of my friends - Jessica - was on - I'm sure she knew I was crazy because I kept telling her not to leave me, and please don't leave me - Jessica don't leave me - she didn't, she stayed right there and talked me through making oatmeal and jello to get something into my system.

I had fairly constant communication with my family/parents. My Mom just kept encouraging me to drink, drink, drink. I felt miserable. I wanted to come home - but I knew I needed to stay here - for one thing I wasn't strong enough to be moved. I did want to go - but it's one thing to say "We'll fly you to the States." but it's quite another to actually DO it. I mean where would I go when I got there? Who would look after me? How would I pay for a hospital stay? Most American doctors don't know a lot about Typhoid/Malaria - no I was much better off where I was. And the doctors and nurses not only knew me here but they love me.

Prudence kept telling me that she loved me and that she was here there was nothing to be afraid of. She taught me to pray: Jezi ede m'; Jezi geri m'. Bondye kenbe men mwen. - Jesus help me, Jesus heal me. Lord God hold my hand. I repeated that over and over til I fell asleep.

One night after I had started to get better I had a return of the fever. I felt so close to death - I prayed Psalm 23 - I called my family and cried that I would never hold my niece, Abigail - I had been so brave - I had not cried but maybe twice through the whole ordeal but this was just too much - I felt so alone and so helpless and so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being sick, tired of not being able to do anything without setbacks. My mom sang to me In the Name of Jesus We have the Victory and reminded me of the Haitian song: Eske Ou Vle Ale Lakay Papa Mwen - Would You Like to Go to My Father's House. Which of course I REALLY did want too!

I prayed in anguish that night - Jezi kenbe men mwen, pa kite m'. Jezi geri m' tanpri, si ou pa vle geri m' pran mwen vit - si tou ple; mwen vle ale lakay ou si ou vle; tanpri Jezi ede m' - Jesus hold my hand, don't leave me. Jesus heal me please, if you don't want to heal me, take me quickly - please; I want to go to your house if you want; please Jesus help me. Praying like that I fell asleep feeling as though he held my right hand in His and my head in His lap - soothing me.

Last Monday I went back to the clinic and had lab work done - I was declared free of Malaria and Typhoid - salmonella typhi is the bacteria that CAUSES typhoid so that explained the salmonella part - kind of. But I was also diagnosed with a urinary tract infection - thankfully it is asymptomatic (meaning I don't have any of the symptoms :D) I was ordered back to bedrest for the next several weeks and to drink a gallon of water a day - for someone who is lucky to drink a gallon of water a week - this is a challenge.

I continue to improve slightly day by day. I've been on a steady carb diet for the past number of weeks and STILL love mashed potatoes. They have been my staple since I've been here. I still get tired out easily and spend most of my time in bed or the bathroom - all that water ;)

I'm learning patience and that God sees us through our darkest hour - I will have much more empathy for typhoid and malaria patients than I would've before now that I've gone through this - of course I could become cynical and say - Oh get over it I had malaria AND typhoid! If I had both you can handle one! :D But all joking aside - I know that when you suffer with the ones who are suffering they are have a deeper respect and love for you.

Thank you so much to everyone who was and is praying. I wish you knew how MUCH it means to know when you're laying here that there are people who love you and are continually bringing you before the throne of grace - begging for mercy and healing. It's not over yet - the next few weeks of recovery will be difficult as I like to be DOING things. I may get a few odd jobs - last night I helped Erica grade papers - that wasn't too exhausting :D but very hilarious. One student when asked on a history test to list two things that Miles Standish did for the Pilgrims stated: 1. he wooch the cohte. - We still have no idea what that means - but we found it hilarious!

Well this post has gone on quite enough I am sure. But I just want to leave you with this:

I knew Haiti would not be easy - it's not. But I knew God would be faithful - and He is.