It ain't no sin to be glad you're alive

I did it. I conquered Malaria. Well, hopefully. On Wednesday I was feeling a little nauseous during the day, but being the tough guy I am I thought nothing of it. That night I started to feel some abdominal pain but again, being the tough guy I am I was willing to brush it off as a case of food poisoning or rabies. Nothing serious. I left the dinner table on Wednesday to go up to our room and that was when things really went downhill. the pain escalated in a hurry and before I knew it I was curled up in a ball on our bathroom floor pleading to God to let me live. I can't help but feel partially responsible for the Canucks game 7 loss to the Bruins as part of the deal I made with God was that if he would let me live I would be willing to see the Canucks lose that game. Before you get mad at me please think back to some of the great times we've shared together. Still mad? Didn't think so. So there I was, laying on our bathroom floor. I had been too busy trying to make my peace with kicking the bucket that I had forgot about Jen. Jennifer... lovely Jennifer. What would she do without me around? I called her phone and was barely able to get out the words, "I think you need to come here now." Jennifer came into the room and saw me laying on the floor and said, "Oh my goodness we need to go to the hospital." I told her that I didn't need to go as this was just a mild case of constapation. I like to think that I was just being tough by telling her I didn't need to go to the hospital but the reality is I didn't want to go becuase I just plain old hate hospitals. The smell, the needles, the blood and guts... Give me wallowing around on the bathroom floor any day. Then the puking started. That, combined with being in the worst pain I had ever experienced, was enough to convince me that maybe it was time to go visit a Doctor. The sweating and shaking were also minor factors. Jen called a taxi and I started worrying about how I was going to make it down the stairs and to the taxi. Not wanting to have Jen get back surgery in Tanzania we decided it would not be good for her to try carry me to the taxi. I walked and crawled my way to the taxi and we drove down the pothole-filled road to the hospital. The gate at the entrance to the hospital has a big speed bump that our taxi driver tried to drive over slowly. The first couple of times he didn't give it enough gas so we just sort of rocked back and forth a few times. It was a good time to get in a last slew of f-bombs before leaving this world for a place free of f-bombs... and all other bombs. It was mid-night so thankfully the hospital was pretty empty. We were in an office ith a doctor in 5 minutes. He told me to lay on a bed where he poked at different sections of my stomach. He informed me was just checking for appendicidis. I informed him I was going to either punch or puke on his face if he poked me one more time. He told us we needed to go to the lab to get some tests. We went into the lab where we were greeted by a lady who was talking on her cell phone. We sat on a couple of chairs and she came and pricked my finger to get a blood sample. She put her phone down for a second and also gave me a little cup, pointed to it and said, "Urine." She looked at Jen and told her she can leave. I told Jen I didn't think I had it in me to pee in a little cup at that moment. It turned out I didn't have to as a couple minutes later the lady tucked her phone between her chin and her shoulder to tell us, "You have Malaria. Sorry!" Before going back to talking on her phone. Jen and I looked at eachother and didn't know what to think. After a few seconds we both just laughed. Our next stop was a little room with two nurses who were holding a giant needle. I wasn't sure if the size of the needle was me not being able to see properly or some hallucinating, but I was informed after that it actually was a very large needle. Man I hate needles. The nurses couldn't speak english so they held the needle and pointed to me and said, "Buttox" then started to laugh. I layed on the bed, pulled down my shorts and felt the massive needle prick my bum. Afterwards Jen described the shot by saying, "It just kept going further and further into your bum." We then went to the pharmacy counter where we loaded up on pain killers, laxatives and anti-malaria pills. The needle started to work right away and by the time we got back to our place I was feeling a little less pain. I spent the next couple of days in bed and in the bathroom. Yesterday I took the last of the anti-malaria pills and today I am almost feeling back to normal and am back at the University working/writing this blog. It feels weird to know that Malaria kills so many people in Africa. All it took for me was a short trip to the hospital, $30 Canadian on pills and one enormous shot in the bum and I am pretty much back to normal after 5 days. I couldn't imagine going through that pain without any medication and not knowing when it was going to stop. As much as I hate hospitals I am sure glad they exist and extremely thankful that we are able to go to one to get help. Going through something like that makes me understand why people are so desperate that they do anything to get any amount of money. I know that if Jen or another family member was in that much pain I would try steal or do anything to try get money to help.
Anyways, time to get back to work. Suck it Malaria.