Alive and kicking

So here is how it happened…….
A little over a week ago, on a Sunday, I got a headache. I went to church, and as the service progressed I was developing a fever. I went back to my room and slept for most of the day, but the fever was just getting worse. I learned then, that in Thailand, if your fever gets too hot you can choke and die. Not welcomed news. So every 15 minutes I or someone else if I couldn’t keep awake, would scrub my skin with a wet towel. I came to the conclusion then that if a towel starts warming up after just a few seconds on your skin, you are too hot. And I was. I was radiating heat. I could have heated Sarah Palin’s home for a week in mid January, I was that hot.
On Monday, my fever would go up and down, so that evening I went to the clinic. After waiting for, what I believed to be an unusually large amount of time, I saw the doctor. In the end all he did was say it was not far enough to test, but he thought I had dengue fever. He also informed me I should stop letting mosquitoes bite me, as if I letting them feast on my legs for fun.
Tuesday was uneventful till I threw up.
Wednesday morning I went to the hospital to be tested, and yes, I had dengue fever. I was given three different medications, and would have to come in every morning to have my blood drawn (you should have seen how pissed I was). If my “blood count” (still don’t know what it really is) got too low I would have to stay in the hospital.
Thursday morning my body was really weak, I could barely get dressed and make it down the stairs. And by the time I got to the hospital I was put in a wheel chair. I was about to go home after having my blood drawn and meeting with the doctor, but my joints started to hurt and it was decided I would spend the night. It was my first time ever sleeping in a hospital and I was not thrilled.
For the next few days my “blood count” kept going down, my body was really weak, and I couldn’t eat. Because of all that, all I could do was lie in my hospital bed and move to and from the toilet. I was going crazy with boredom, and I think I was getting to the nurses. Not all of them could speak English, but within hours I stopped caring. I would talk to whoever came into the room about whatever came to my mind. For some reason “who’s line is it anyways” and Ricky Gervais were quite prevalent to my mind for those few days.
Finally, after three days and more than a few sing-alongs to “the sound of music,” they were letting me go. One of the nice couples from church gave me a ride back to the house, and from there I went to the pastors’ house.
And that is where I am now. I am in the lovely living room of the pastor’s and his wife’s home. They have been really kind, and are letting me spend a few nights with them. All that is left of my hospital stay are the marks from the IV, my hospital bracelet, and an ugly rash that comes with the fever. I’m eating, drinking, and resting; all is well.
I want to say “thanks” to the people here and back at home. I know many of you were praying for me, and I am really grateful. I thought about everyone while I was in the hospital, and it was encouraging to know that in both Thailand and in the States there were people looking out for me.
Catch you on the flip side.