Well, that was scary. I knew I was sick in Iquitos, what with my lower legs all swollen, and the vomiting and such, but I could not isolate what it was until the day I was to get on the plane to come home. Suddenly there were wild chills and teeth chattering and diahhrea and I realized I was in the middle of a relapse of malaria. No big deal, right? I've ridden that storm now and then for a few days for decades. I was, however, a little worried when LATAM said I was too ill to fly. I finally got through and got to Lima.
Boarded my flight to Dallas and assumed I'd sleep. I didn't. Not only didn't I sleep, I had full on bout of ayahuasca for several hour of the flight. The plane ain't the place for that to come on unexpectedly.
Did maintain control till the end and did accept the wheelchair American brought for me. Got out into the street and my son Marco was waiting to take me home. Unfortunately, the chills, hot flashes, visions, hallucinations and the rest of it did not go away.
I took really hot showers and couldn't shake the chills. I forced myself to drink nearly a gallon of water a day. But I knew I should listen to my friend Dian's advice and see a doc.
So I returned Tuesday and saw my doc on Friday morning. He asked if I wanted a day or two in the hospital. I said "no way!" Ten minutes later he said: "I'm the doctor here and you have no say. I'm having you admitted." I asked what would happen if I refused. He said "There is a good chance you will die in the next couple of days." So I was admitted.
They dropped me into ICU, where I stayed three days with massive amounts of antibiotics. Seems my body was way out of whack. Eight docs, all specialists in their fields, took me on and got me from that end of all things and into a regular room where they kept me five more days.
They let me go this afternoon. I start seeing those eight docs again beginning on Monday. If I feel lousy I'll readmit before then.
So I'm better but still bad.
Gonna make it. Still have some work to do here and some more kid raising and a little hell raising.
But I know I'm sick when I'm not reaching for a smoke and don't feel like a glass of wine. Ah well, you all now know as much as I do, except the part where I know how much it hurts.