My First International Hospital Visit

This was one post I was hoping I wouldn't have to make.

Ever since I landed in South Africa, I've been dealing with some rather annoying stomach issues - primarily some pretty painful cramping and other symptoms. I actually thought I had food poisoning.

My first night here was horrible. I didn't sleep at all, thanks to jet lag and to the stomach illness. I was up every hour with pain. In fact, I spoke to our facilitator the next morning, because I was concerned I might not make it through our first day of meetings. I rallied as best I could and followed along, but the first day was brutal. I was breaking out into cold sweats, cramping, wishing I was in bed. By Sunday (three days after I started having issues), I finally started to feel better again. I began eating normally - instead of relying solely on bread, toast and crackers.

I thought I was good to go, until last Wednesday, when the cramping started again. This time it was worse. That same day, I did a more demanding workout and ended up simultaneously throwing out my back. Thursday into Friday was the worst night here so far. In addition to terrible stomach cramps, I could hardly move, because my back was in so much pain. My guess is I aggravated my herniated discs. By 4 a.m. I had about given up on the day - just getting out of bed was a challenge. I ended up staying in bed until 4:30 p.m., icing my back and popping ibuprofen.

By the end of the day, our facilitator thought it was best if I was checked out by a doctor, so she took me to the hospital, which is across the street from our hotel. This hospital was a private hospital, which accepts foreign visitors. Our facilitator said the level of care is much higher in a private African hospital, as opposed to a public one.

Even though we all speak English, it was still difficult to communicate with accents and such, mine included. We had to sort out my insurance, among other paperwork, as well as insure proof of payment through a company IBM uses when employees travel abroad. Lots of miscommunication happened between the hospital and the company, which caused a lot of frustration. Just when we thought we had everything sorted out, I realized they had transcribed my wrong birthdate, which meant they had to reprint all the forms and have be re-fill them out again, which just meant more time spent before getting treated.

When I finally got into my hospital room, I was assigned a nurse. Her name was Roxy and she was so nice and patient. She was funny too and said she loved treating Americans because we were so friendly, as compared to other countries. She also understood how difficult it was for me to sometimes understand what was happening - there are some thick accents here in South Africa, so she  would help translate what people were saying or write things down for me, so I could better comprehend what was happening. This was probably the scariest part - not knowing why a needle was going into my arm, or not understanding the instructions for medicine. I was very thankful to have had her as my nurse, she made the process so much easier.

They did a number of tests - blood work, urine samples, x-rays. Each time someone came to administer a test, I had to pull out my credit card to pay ahead of time, before they would be able to move forward. I think I ended up spending about $500 total - which ultimately isn't too terrible for an emergency visit (I should be reimbursed by my insurance company when I go home). When the tests came back, my white blood cells were fairly high, which they said indicated my body was fighting what they believed to be a bacterial infection. It wasn't worth figuring out what kind of infection it was they said, but that likely I picked something up on the plane or ate something here in Africa that caused the infection. I was given an IV with pain medication and a broad spectrum antibiotic. They also sent me back to the hotel late that night with a stack of pills.

Now, day seven into the second wave of this infection and my stomach is starting to feel normal again. I'm just hoping this is finally the end of this - it's been so frustrating.

Being away from home for so many weeks, has been an amazing experience. But it has also made me realize just how lucky I am. I never worry about housing, I never worry about electricity or internet connections, I never worry about good medical care or access to medicine. Even though this infection has been frustrating, it could have been so much worse and I'm sure thankful it wasn't.