That time I snuck out of the hospital to get a chocolate shake...

I always associated Pneumonia with cold weather and a weakened immune system, so you can imagine my surprise when I, proud owner of an immune system of steel and resident of the ever-tropical Panama, came down with that very ailment this past weekend.

My dad had been mentioning my pesky cough for the past three weeks or so, but until last week that was the only sign I had that something bad was in store.  Sure enough, after a week of work-related travel, I got so sick that all I did was hole up in a hotel and sleep for two days straight.  When my prescribed antibiotics weren’t alleviating any of my symptoms, the Peace Corps medical team decided I needed to be hospitalized. 

Before this past weekend, the only times I had been in a hospital were to visit other people, so naturally I wasn’t excited to change that.  Add to that my fear of needles (it’s pretty ridiculous, guys) and the prescribed IVs and I was not a happy camper.  It all ended in a warm bed though, so my Pneumonia-ridden self couldn’t complain too much. 

That was last Monday.  By Tuesday I was ready to break out for a chocolate shake, and subsequently did.  Wednesday held the same, only this time with a veggie-burger to accompany my sweet escape.  By Wednesday I was also smart enough to know the hospital food was not to be counted on, so that day’s escapade included a little trip to the supermarket, IV bag in hand. 

After what felt like much too long, the doctors let me out on Thursday... with the condition that I be placed on a medical hold in Panama City for 15 days in order to be really, really sure that I'm 100% better and won't re-infect my lungs when I get back to site.   

So what is a budget constricted Peace Corps volunteer to do in one of the most developed cities in Central America for over two weeks?  In addition to hopefully being productive (internet! electricity!) I'm hoping to scope out all of the free and cheap activities the city has to over and experiment with all the food I can't get in site.  Of course, I'll be blogging all along the way.  At least I'll leave this experience, hopefully, as a semi-expert on Panama City.

My First Medical Issue- And it was Gross

At one point during my lengthy interview with a Peace Corps Recruiter, he asked me what my biggest concern would be, should I be offered a position.  I quickly responded with, "Oh, that's easy.  I really, really hate being sick." He simply laughed and said, "Unfortunately, you will definitely be sick, but at least we have a great medical staff!" 

Since then, I've continued to learn about the ailments that plague Peace Corps Panama volunteers.  Other than the "normal" digestive tract issues, my province of Bocas del Toro is also known for other jungle ailments such as a variety of parasites and bacterial and fungal infections.  Sounds great, right? 

To add insult to injury, my site was specifically known for being medically tough because our water isn't sanitary.  The previous volunteer was sick so often that the very first thing my boss said about my town was, "This is a really neat little town... but you have to promise me you will be very, very, very careful with the water."  

After two months with nearly no incidents whatsoever, I thought my iron stomach and I were in the clear... but I obviously spoke too soon.  When I noticed that a bunch of my bug bites started to get infected I called our medical unit and got some anti-biotics to clear them up.  Two days later, most were gone, but the few that remained acted like Mount Vesuvius and swelled, turned black, and started bleeding all within a few hours.  

Obviously, this warranted a trip to the doctor, but thanks to Peace Corps careful regulations the closest approved doctor was in David, the regional capital over 4 hours from my site.  As luck would have it, I didn't start the trip until after dinner (as I didn't realize I'd be going so far) and all of the remaining busses to David were full.  After a tearful ordeal of being left behind (Their fault, not mine...) some sweet Spanish tourists took pity on me and washed my gruesome arm with some antibiotic perfumed soap before splitting the 3 hour taxi ride to David with me.  

Slightly after midnight I finally got to see the Doctor, who gave me antibiotics and some pretty strict directions to stay away from the local water sources.  

And now, a week and a half later, I'm (almost) good as new AND am moved into my house with my boss's blessing.  Thank you, silver linings.