“I’m not squeamish.”

Yesterday was pretty interesting.  Actually, “interesting” might not be the right word…

Two people from our group were quite sick.  Both were having a lot of pain in their stomachs, as well as vomiting and having diarrhea.  Somehow they managed to take themselves to the doctor, at which point they called us and needed money.

Two people were ill in St. Louis, but this was the worst that anyone has been ill.  One of the girls had lost so much fluid that she needed an IV, but now everyone is fine.

Three of us came to the rescue with money, at which point I had my own little embarrassing episode.

I suppose it shouldn’t really be embarrassing, and I should preface this by saying that there is nothing wrong with me at all.  Actually, please laugh because it turns out to be quite funny in the end.

I was feeling a little off yesterday.  Not ill, just headache-y and…off.  I didn’t have class in the morning so I just sat around, but once I went out and walked in the heat I got a little bit worse.  I realized later that I was pretty dehydrated, and that I’d had coffee for breakfast.

Okay, this is the fun part!!  Mix that with a rather stupidly bad reaction to being at doctors offices and hospitals.  About three minutes after walking into the office-which was a huge temperature change-I started to feel sick to my stomach.  So I bolted to the bathroom, closed the door,  and positioned myself over the toilet to wait.  This was all good, except I’d just closed myself in alone and instead of vomiting I started to pass out.

So there I was sweating like a mad person.  I could feel my heartrate dropping down to nothing, and without really deciding to do it I started slapping myself to stay awake.  I had the vague thought that “this is really stupid” and forced myself to continue slapping anyway for lack of a better plan. It finally occurred to me that I didn’t want to pass out alone in a closed bathroom in Africa when everyone was busy with the actual sick people, so I started to also kick the door and call out “Leah…LEAH…”

Okay, pause and appreciate the full effect of that spectacular image.  We’ve been laughing about it ever since because it just about surpasses being ridiculous.

She couldn’t hear me, but I eventually slapped in enough consciousness to open the door.  Leah came to the rescue (and had no idea why I was slapping myself), at which point I just remember mumbling “Leah…we’re in Africa…” before a very nice doctor scooped me up and carried me off to an exam room.

After testing my blood pressure and sugar, as well as giving me a completely unnecessary cardiogram-which determined absolutely nothing about my health, but apparently determined that I am “in love with three men” and left 12 circles on my chest where the blood vessels are broken-they let me out.

So next time, water it is.  I went home and slept off my dehydration headache, and today I am completely fine.

Oh yeah, and next time??  Some one else gets to rescue the sick people who don’t have money for the doctor.

5 Responses to ““I’m not squeamish.””

  1. Your Squeaky Says:

    SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEEEEEEEEEAK! I hope you’re okay! And if you’re in love with three men, you better pick one that won’t laugh at your little mousey. SQUEAK!

  2. Amanda Says:

    EEK! oh dear… that sounds like quite the adventure… in love with three men?…

  3. gg Says:

    Dearest Moues,

    It is experiences like this that make it all worth while!


  4. Sneak Says:

    i love you mouse.

    p.s. i’m wearing the dress you made me this saturday to the fancy pants fundraising gala my work is having =)

  5. Rachel Says:

    Oh my my. I’m glad you’re ok!

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