Sometimes you realize you are not at home.
I got sick about four weeks ago. It started when I taught at 7 in the morning and then I went to my Spanish class at ten and had to introduce myself and explain that I was teaching from 7-9, taking class from 10-1:30 and working from 2-8, and everyone in Chile, said "que??" Well I got out of class at 1:30 that day and my head was spinning, I thought I was gaining a migraine and as I walked to the metro for work, I knew I wouldn't make it. I had a few visions of romantic scenes of me fainting on the subway only to wake in a hospital with a lovely new Chilean stranger who carried me up the subway stairs and stayed with me. Then as the walk continued and the fantasy grew, as always, i remembered reality....I actually felt like i was about to faint. I knew that the ground was far away and I could faint in the crossroad and be killed by some crazy driver, I could fall into the metro tracks and that would be the end of me...and as my mind continued and I walked, I wondered, what now? I was sick to my stomach and my head just spun and spun. CAB. I called my lovely friend Chris who deals with all our places of work and told him I just couldn't make it today, I had a headache, I felt like an ass for calling in sick, as this is very much looked down upon in America, but I wanted nothing but my mattress in my bedroom. I hailed a cab and breathed out the address of my apt. I needed my bed NOW. I arrived and collapsed, what was happening, was I just tired, overspent, doing too much...or was something wrong. I chalked it up to be overtired, I had partied hard all weekend, worked hard all Sunday and now my body hated me come Monday morning, i just needed a nap.
So I slept, and I woke on and off again for several hours, but in this time period, there were many times I awoke and was lying face down on the bathroom floor. I did not feel well. Not only now did the room spin but my stomach as well. It hated me and thank god my door adjourned the bathroom door. Now being sick to my stomach is no new story for me. I was born yellow as my mom says, and I have spent 27 years making up for it. I have accepeted these problems after multiple doctors, a few surgeries, acue puncture, pills, diets and more pills....I assumed I had picked up some bug and could stand it out another 24 hours. I went to the doctor five days after the symptoms ceased to stop, got some medication, reassured me I should feel alright by Monday. Slight improvements over the weekend only to wake at square one the following Tuesday, stayed in bed another three days to return to the Dr. that Thursday. New meds, reassurance I had a pesticide in my body and to stick to rice and bread and wait it out. I waited a week and collapsed, no difference, cept my pant size had decreased (back to the size I arrived in Chile with... minus sopaipillas and empanadas.) Back to the doctor again?
I had decisions to make, I had been twice, no change, I was becoming desperate for normal food, wine, and the return on my social life...but I was also leaving for a planned vacation the next day to Patagonia, I listened to my stubborn side that I could cure my self with some tea and rice and adventure...and left the next day for my 20 hour bus ride to Bariloche.
Fast forward ten more days, one more trip to the Dr. after cutting vacation a bit short, now some exames tomorrow and its been four weeks. Weird that it feels like an eternity. Whatever it is, it is an experience, like my amazingly funny friend Cassie writes in her email yesterday, "if you got sick at least you are sick in Chile." With some other non publishable words attached. I have hope for health again and normalcy, but in retrospect, I have little to complain about. Now I focus on three goals during recovery and my experience with Chilean doctors and hospitals...1. become fluent in Spanish 2. spend more time with my teenage girls and 3. write more. I am sure my liver is thanking me for all the time off, although my feet ache for some good old fashion dancing, salsa, reggae or otherwise known.
I shall return!
So I slept, and I woke on and off again for several hours, but in this time period, there were many times I awoke and was lying face down on the bathroom floor. I did not feel well. Not only now did the room spin but my stomach as well. It hated me and thank god my door adjourned the bathroom door. Now being sick to my stomach is no new story for me. I was born yellow as my mom says, and I have spent 27 years making up for it. I have accepeted these problems after multiple doctors, a few surgeries, acue puncture, pills, diets and more pills....I assumed I had picked up some bug and could stand it out another 24 hours. I went to the doctor five days after the symptoms ceased to stop, got some medication, reassured me I should feel alright by Monday. Slight improvements over the weekend only to wake at square one the following Tuesday, stayed in bed another three days to return to the Dr. that Thursday. New meds, reassurance I had a pesticide in my body and to stick to rice and bread and wait it out. I waited a week and collapsed, no difference, cept my pant size had decreased (back to the size I arrived in Chile with... minus sopaipillas and empanadas.) Back to the doctor again?
I had decisions to make, I had been twice, no change, I was becoming desperate for normal food, wine, and the return on my social life...but I was also leaving for a planned vacation the next day to Patagonia, I listened to my stubborn side that I could cure my self with some tea and rice and adventure...and left the next day for my 20 hour bus ride to Bariloche.
Fast forward ten more days, one more trip to the Dr. after cutting vacation a bit short, now some exames tomorrow and its been four weeks. Weird that it feels like an eternity. Whatever it is, it is an experience, like my amazingly funny friend Cassie writes in her email yesterday, "if you got sick at least you are sick in Chile." With some other non publishable words attached. I have hope for health again and normalcy, but in retrospect, I have little to complain about. Now I focus on three goals during recovery and my experience with Chilean doctors and hospitals...1. become fluent in Spanish 2. spend more time with my teenage girls and 3. write more. I am sure my liver is thanking me for all the time off, although my feet ache for some good old fashion dancing, salsa, reggae or otherwise known.
I shall return!
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