Going on ten months here in Uganda and I got my first taste of sickness. The ironic thing is that the day I fell ill I was at the hospital helping out a friend who was also sick. We spent hours there waiting to be seen as my throat got more and more painful and my head began to swim. I told my other friend Betty, "I am NOT feeling well at all." I made it home and went to bed. By the middle of the night I couldn't swallow at all and was the most miserable I'd been in a long long time. By 5:30 am I knew I needed a doctor after I tried swallowing a Tylenol 3 pill and it got stuck in my enlarged tonsils.
I hopped on a boda and had a harrowing early morining ride through Kampala. Luckily I was the only one at the clinic that early. By the time the doctor called me into his office I warned him I might vomit. He chuckled good naturedly and said, "Go ahead...I'm a doctor." I eyed him suspiciously. He handed me a HUGE cup of liquid tylenol for kids and told me to drink it down. I warned him again that I would for sure throw up if he made me do it. Again he gave a little shrug and said, "Go stand by the trash can then." So I get the first revolting sip down and start to sweat. The second sip barely makes it down and I just know what is coming. The third sip put me over the edge and sure enough I puked right there in the doctor's office. It was a strange satisfying moment. I wanted to say, "I told you so" and stick out my toungue but I was too busy retching.
I think he finally realized that yes I was indeed sick. So what does he make me do? He wants to stick a speculum down my already enraged throat. I sighed with resignation as if to say, "You want me to puke again?". He came at me and stuck it on my tongue and had to jump back as I started to gag. He gave up. "Well, lets do a blood test." He says.
So after a blood test and a shot to alleviate my puke-fest tendencies I waited for an hour to find out what was wrong with me. I begged them to let me go home but them made me wait in a room and lie down. Dan arrived and sat patiently while we waited for the diagnosis. This doc was not quick to say I had strep but I was certain. Anytime you'd rather rub pepper in your eye than swallow I think you can say you have strep.
Turns out I did have some bacterial infection going on so he puts me on sulpha and sends me home. My sister is allergic to sulpha and apparently so am I. I broke out in a rash (that thankfully didn't itch) and turned bright red. Aiden came in at one point to check on me and said, "Mom, your head looks like a strawberry!". Great. Another sleepless painful night. The next morning after gagging on my pills again and getting one stuck in one of my tonsils I begged Dan to put me out of my misery.
He wisely called the doctor back and asked if we could do injections of antibiotics instead of pills. They told him to bring me back in to see the head doctor. Off we go again. The head doctor is a super sarcastic British guy who I adore. He is so funny and says inappropriate things yet manages to convey doctorly wisdom. He tells me to stop taking the sulpha and go home. I was not happy. Then he says come to the nurses station and get some meds and lets do another blood test. "I'm sure you've got H1N1." He says. So after swallowing more absolutely vile concoctions I rest in the emergency room for an hour waiting for the blood labs. The doctor determines that while I do have a bacterial "something" going on he doesn't think it's strep but still maintains the likelyhood of it being swine flu.
They send me home all full of gross meds again promising me that in a few days I'll feel human again. Well here I am on day five of this illness and I may not be human yet but I'm on my way. I had a break down last night and threw myself down on the bed in hysterics while my husband looked on in amused silence. (This has been hard on him too!).
All the time I was feeling poorly I kept think about thanking God even in the hard times. I DID NOT want to say thank you for the illness at all. I wanted to wallow in bitterness and misery OR I wanted a miraculous healing. It doesn't look like the miraculous healing is coming but I do know God is faithful. This has been one of the hardest tests of my faith and patience since we've been here. It's so easy to say we "will praise YOU in the storm" but DO we really do it? If this stupid illness continues for another two weeks will I still be able to praise God? It is always harder to put into practice what you preach about God. So please pray NOT for the miraculous healing that I long for but for a miraculous heart change even in the illness. I want to feel better for sure but I want God to get His glory even when I feel miserable.
Thanks for all you who have been praying for me through this last week. Do pray that God would protect my kids from this illness but as always...His will be done. This little piggy is going back to bed but I praise God for stustaining me even in this! Love you all!
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