The ER, part 2

16-Jul-06

 

            So I know it's been a while, but I have another great excuse!   Wednesday I was going to send out an email about my weekend, which I will get to later, but I had to go back to the hospital.

            It started around 10 or so I started getting really cold but my face was very hot.   I put on my fleece and sat though Spanish class for as long as I could, we get 10 or 15 minute breaks every hour, so during one of them I asked if I could have my temperature taken, of course they said.   I suppose it was easier said than done.  The thermometer they tried using didn't work and this other thing, a strip you stick on your forehead, wasn't sticking.   So they told me to we had to call the PCMO (Peace Corps medical officer).  I talked to her and described my symptoms, chills, what felt like a fairly high fever, and a headache.   She told me she thought it was allergies and that she would send some allergy medicine up to the training center for me to try, but for now take some Panadol (which is like Tylenol, but the Central American version I guess).   The problem with this instruction was that there was no Panadol around the training site for volunteers.  Luckily, one of the secretaries had some in her desk that she gave to me.   So I took that and went back to Spanish class.  We have lunch at 11:30 everyday and when that rolled around I wasn't feeling THAT much better, but the sun was out so I wasn't as cold.   I kept asking everyone, are you guys cold?  For lunch that day I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because my host mom and her sister-in-law were both going to be in Tegus.   I was excited about the Americanism of it, but I didn't feel like eating, but I ate it anyway. 

            I hate making long stories short, can't you tell?   Anyway after lunch ended we had some other classes to go to, I went to the first one and after it ended decided I couldn't do anymore and asked to lie down.  By then it was only one o'clock.   A little later I was so cold I was shaking lying down.  I went back out to the main office and asked them what I should do, so we called the PCMO again.   By this time my allergy medicine arrived and she told me to take it and drink a lot of water.  So I took it and tried drinking water; every time I did though I felt like I was going to throw it up, so I quite that.   Around 4 I gave up on trying to warm myself up and went back out to the office, I told them I thought I still had a fever and I was so cold my teeth were chattering.   The duty officer told me we had to call the PCMO again, and I had to tell her my symptoms again.  She told me I had to go to the hospital, and that I would have to spend the night.   Spend the night?  Why?  She told me it was so the doctors could monitor me over night.   The next day all of us were supposed to be leaving for our volunteer visits.  Don't worry, Bridget, you'll probably still be able to make it, and another trainee is in the hospital now too, so we'll put you in a room together.  

            By then all I wanted were some antibiotics to feel better.   I got into one of the PC trucks going to Tegus to take some Spanish teachers home, and I don't know if it was because of the driving or what but I started throwing up.  That was fun.   Finally after what seemed like most round about way to get to the hospital we finally got there.  But Junior, the driver, and one of the secretaries went in with me.   They took my temperature and I tried asking what it was but that didn't really work so well.  I think it was 40-something and everyone seemed very alarmed, which didn't make me feel better.   Then the IV came, I knew from the way they were looking at my veins that it wasn't going to be easy.  First they tried my left hand and then my right hand and then my right elbow joint and then my left and finally they seemed to get it to work.   They injected something into the IV that made my whole body go warm and soon I passed out.  Several doctors came in and talked to me, some in Spanish and some in English, but I don't remember what they said.   A person from PC came in too and talked to me, said they were going to move me upstairs, but it felt like I waited there forever in the ER.

            Finally they moved me up to the other room with Molly, the other PCT (Peace Corps trainee) that was in the hospital.   We sat around and watched a Point Break in English and then soon I fell asleep.  During my sleep I woke up several times to nurses fiddling with my IV, I guess I bent the one in my arm during my sleep because they had to redo it in my hand.   Needless to say I didn't get a whole lot of sleep.  When we woke up I felt better and I thought it was a good sign that for breakfast they brought me French toast with syrup and Molly crackers and jelly. But apparently it wasn't because Molly had a bacteria and I had a virus.   She got to leave and I had to stay for another night and they would see in the morning how I was doing.

            The room at the hospital was nice, the nurses were nice but didn't speak English, and the doctor spoke English perfectly, but it was so boring and lonely.   My host mom and dad stopped by to see me and a lady from PC called me several times but the only thing I wanted was to get out of there, anywhere but in that hospital with the IV strapped to my hand.   I passed the day by watching American television with Spanish subtitles.  Dawson's Creek, Gilmore Girls, The OC, some movies, Seinfeld.   I learned how to say great phrases in Spanish like, "oh my god," and "coming up next." 

I didn't actually eat the breakfast they served me, I just had a banana, and I wasn't really up to French toast.   So I was pretty excited when they brought lunch, but it was only three pieces of toast with jelly.  And dinner was refried beans (which are frijoles – I don't know what they call beans that aren't refried) and avocado and this bologna meat stuff.   I'm sure most Hondurans after being in a hospital for almost a full day looks forward to having a traditional Honduran meal, but after watching commercials all day of TGIF and Wendy's and other American restaurants, all I wanted was one of my dad's hamburgers.  

I slept better the 2^nd night but the nurse woke me up in the morning for breakfast, pancakes (nothing compared to home's or Maribel's).   I asked the nurse if I could go home and she went to look for the doctor.  So I settled into watching more American TV.   Finally, after they insisted on me eating their lunch, which I only picked at, I was allowed to go back to Sainta Lucia.  My motorista friend, Miguel came to pick me up and came up to my room to get me, I have never been so happy to talk to someone in Spanish before.  So Miguel took me home and I kind of sat around the house for a while, watched my host mom prepare frijoles and she told me about cooking them and harvesting them and storing them.   Then I went to bed fairly early and didn't get up until 1 the next day.  That was on Friday/Saturday.  Now it's Sunday and I feel better but not completely better.   I still can't really eat a lot, it tires me out.  But the headache and general body ache is gone.  Oh, forgot to mention that the doctor said it was just a three day stomach virus, "as you call it in the states."   I've never had anything like this in the states.  No Malaria, Typhoid, or Dengue (yet at least).  Just wanted to let everyone know I was alive.   I'll write more tonight and hopefully send it out tomorrow with replies.  Take care.

PC Love,

Bridget

 

 

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Bridget Kathleen French
954.650.5084