It started on the tro journey home from our weekend by the pool in Tamale. Ali got sick first. At first we thought it was just the journey making her feeling nauseous… by the time we reached Bolga I insisted I took her to Afrikids Clinic as I thought it was malaria; unfortunately we didn’t make it through the queue before closing and anyhow, she want to go home as sleeping on a bench and throwing up in the clinic loos was not helping her condition. It was about midnight, maybe one in the morning when I awoke with a need to run to the bathroom, for what I wasn’t sure but made the right decision and vomited, then sat down and peed out of my backside. I spent the remaining 6 or so hours either on or over the loo or in bed thinking about being on or over the loo.
My housemate kindly took us to another clinic the following morning, early. I was so glad she did, for Ali and I weren’t exactly capable of navigating around the system. I don’t need to describe the clinic to you. That archetypal image you have in your head from watching movies/documentaries or whatever is it; is it. The queues...the people… standing, sitting and laying… children…. crying and screaming, malnourished bodies… I could go on. I won’t. Thankfully the Director of the clinic moved us away from the hustle and bustle of the main clinic having seen our sick solomea faces and sent us to the heady heights of the second floor. The breeze was amazing… and then we heard the sound of people vomiting in (maybe it was around) the toilets below… not so amazing…. by this time we were the ones lying on the benches. It was all too much. Two hours after arriving, we had had our blood taken, been tested positively for the malaria parasite and had seen the doctor who had prescribed anti-malarial drugs, multi-vitamins and paracetamol… oh and an anti-nausea injection. A male nurse was to administer this… in our backsides. We were not looking forward to it and when we were led to the theatre (!) for the deed to be done ‘in private’ (preferential treatment for solomeas it would seem, most people just have it done for all to see), we were by each other’s side, holding each other’s hand like children… not a pleasant experience! I wondered why the theatre table I was lying on was so incredibly high (I had difficulty getting on) and what the two metal stirrup things were which weren’t quite stirrups… there is a time when questions shouldn’t be asked for the answer wouldn’t be palatable, I sensed this was one… I’m still wondering. I spent the rest of day either in bed, asleep or on the toilet.
Day two was pretty much the same. Bed. Toilet. Sleep. My housemates kept me fed and hydrated. You have to eat for strength but to be honest you don’t want to and you can only manage small, small amounts. I managed to watch a crap film in bed in the evening.
By Day three I had to go to school to get a meeting sorted for the following week, it was tough getting to school and back, I felt physically exhausted and it’s only down the road so when I got back I rested and watched another crap film. My housemate and another vol offered to distribute the letters to the other schools… how grateful was I! I felt a bit better by 4pm and the water was back on (it had been off for a day and a half), so I filled all the depleted water vessels again, refilled the drinking filters washed my undies and swept. I was still ‘running’, and I don’t mean with my legs... not much as I had not been eating much. The entire evening was spent farting foul smelling farts… I was concerned about following through… it was close. I just hoped my Auntie Carol couldn’t hear me as I skyped her that night. Something wasn’t quite right and in true 21st century style, I googled typhoid fever as I had a suspicion that was the trouble. It often comes with malaria apparently.
Symptoms of typhoid fever in the first week include:
- fever, which will gradually rise and then settle at around 39–40°C (103–104°F) Yes, but not continual and I hope not that high!
- abdominal pain – yes,
- constipation or diarrhea – diarrhea all the way baby!
- vomiting, usually only in children – Early on, now just nauseous, so was probably the malaria
- dry cough, - No
- dull headache in the front of the head, No, unless a dehydration headache counts…
- delirium/mental confusion – does Ghana Brain count?
- skin rash made up of pink spots 1–4cm wide (usually the rash is made up of fewer than five spots) – I have a rash but thought it might be heat rash??
- a feeling of being increasingly unwell - Oh yes!
I didn’t have all, but didn’t need all and thought I ought to ask at the clinic when I got checked to see If I was free of the malaria parasite. It was at this point, having spent a week stuck to the loo, that I was grateful I found that white loo seat so quickly…. As my Auntie Maureen e-mailed ‘hope the new loo seat is as comfy as it sounds as you have tested it well.’ Indeed I have… indeed I have. Thank goodness the loo seats are built for West African bums…
Day four was the day of the retest. When I arrived at the clinic there was no one to distribute my record, I panicked slightly, not sure what to do when I saw the face of the nurse who had stuck me in the arse just 3 days before - Halid. He wanted to help me and said he wanted to be my friend, ‘let’s exchange numbers’… my malaria brain only saw two options; give number and speed through system or spend whole day at clinic queuing with the locals. I gave him my number. It still look me three and a half hours to get through the system and I found myself comforting the locals in the corridor getting injected or having blood taken by Halid the nurse. I decided he didn’t know the meaning of ‘making your patients feel at ease’.
When the results came through it was Halid who told me I had typhoid and that I would need to stay in and be given IV treatment. It seemed a bit suspect to me (the IV not the typhoid) so I asked to see a Doctor. The Doctor then proceeded to tell me that they thought it would be best if I took the IV treatment until early evening… What would they be giving me intravenously I asked, ‘salts to build you up as you are too dehydrated’ I was told after a bit of insistence for an answer. I told them it was not necessary, I had rehydration salts at home which I had been taking and would continue to take but what other drugs did he suggest to get rid of the typhoid. He told me the drug – I asked if they were antibiotics which they were. He also wanted to prescribe something for nausea, and something for diarrhea. There was further discussion between the nurse and the doctor and some pointing to the notes where my symptoms were written at which point the doctor said they would like to give me and injection, ‘for what?’ I said. ‘Nausea’ said the doctor. ‘The same injection I got on Tuesday?’ He nodded and looked at the nurse ‘In my backside? I said, my voice getting more squeaky, loud and high as the conversation continued. He nodded again. ‘I don’t think so’ I practically spat ‘I’ve had it once and really would rather feel sick than have to do that again... I’ll be fine’. I was now convinced Halid had either a fetish for sticking people or wanted a good look at my White West African Arse again… maybe both. It wasn’t going to happen…
I googled the drugs when I got home… well, you’ve gotta check haven’t you? I knew one drug. AKA Rennie… hummm… not having said I had acid indigestion I was unsure why I had been given these. I passed on taking those. The antibiotic drugs rang true after a search. Although, isn’t it funny how you can type something to google… say; ‘what can x x antibiotics be used for?’ and get a whole lot of AIDS treatment websites. Panic. Then type in ‘can x x antibiotics be used to treat Typhoid?’; and find out it can be used to treat typhoid… along with Cholera and other intestinal diseases... The final drug I was given I had never heard of. Following my investigation I found it was for an ulcer of the duodenum/colon. I passed on this drug too, where were the symptoms? The rule does seem to be that if you go to the clinic you must leave with three different drugs. This has been confirmed by old vols privy to a trip to the clinic.
An experience, but I survived (although the 9 missed calls from Halid in less than 12 hours nearly drove me barmy) and I will be more in tune with how my body responds to malaria for next time. There will be a next time. This is Ghana.
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