Last night when I entered my bathroom to get ready for bed, there was a gecko hanging out on the window screen. Even after establishing that it was on the outside of the screen, I still couldn’t relax, and a moment later, it had somehow managed to squeeze through a gap in the window and into my bathroom. I know these lizards are completely harmless and are more scared of me than I am of them, and I also think they’re sort of cute, but they freak the heck out of me all the same! The way it wiggled around when it moved and the speed with which it descended the wall towards my toilet made my skin crawl. I left, shut the door, and had to recompose myself. When I used the toilet later, it was only after making a thorough inspection of the room.
I know I need to get used to critters like lizards and bugs being around. I’m sure I will encounter many of them in the next seven weeks, and the ones big enough to notice are harmless. I will have to become desensitized by exposure.
I’m super happy to be living with other, adventurous young people. Tonight, the girls suggested we all go for a walk to find wine. We wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the Tanzanian guy coming with us, and even so I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea. I certainly never would have even considered it if I were on my own. The road was muddy, rutted, and lit only by the moon. At times, I would look behind us to see a dark form following. That freaked me out at first, but people left us alone and soon we were in town, where there was more light. The “grocery store” was a trip! Tiny “aisles” crammed full of all sorts of random things. For example, plastic sachets of alcohol, clothing in Ziploc bags labeled “boys,” flip flops, and stacks of what look like used (or at least very old) paper pads and art supplies. On the wine shelf, alongside African wines were a few bottles of “Altar Wine.” We decided to also get a couple beers as well, and scanned the selection via the crates of empty, battered Guinness and Kronenburg bottles. The woman went into the back of the store and returned with full bottles, obviously recycled several times. A large group of children escorted us most of the way home, turning cartwheels and saying, “See this! See this!” At one point, one of them walked up to me and made motions like he was painting his face, while they said, “Butter!” “Butter on your face?” I asked. “Yes!” “Why?” I asked, but they had lost interest already. I wondered if this was some reference to my pale complexion…
The girls arranged for someone to show us around Kampala (the capital city) tomorrow. This makes me super happy, as I know that if I were here alone, I would spend seven weeks within the one-mile radius surrounding my home and work. I don’t create my own adventures; I let others arrange them for me. So I consider myself extremely lucky to be living with people who like to arrange adventures.
The internet in the guesthouse is still broken, and as it’s now the weekend, I’m sure it won’t be fixed before Monday. However, I was happy to discover today that the office I’m working in is outside of the institute’s proxy network, so I can access Facebook, gmail chat, the remote desktop, and anything else I want to! I can’t go in on the weekend, so can’t chat with the fam, and I’ll have to find some non-internety way to entertain myself for the next two days (how does one do that? The TV is all in Swahili!)
My gecko friend is back tonight, though happily, he’s back on the outer side of the screen. I think I could become quite fond of him, as long as he stays out there. And now it’s 1am, so I must skedaddle off to bed.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Uganda Day 1
When I arrived in Uganda, it was pouring rain. It was a refreshing break to the sweltering heat of London (hotter than Bangkok on Tuesday!) I was kindly picked up from the airport and deposited at the guest house with no idea where to go or what to do from there. I was also informed that I have to pay rent (my supervisor didn’t bother to mention that before I got here). I asked the housekeeper to show me the way to the research institution (a 5-10 walk away), but when I got there and faced the security guard at the front gate, I wasn’t sure what to say or who to ask for. We finally figured something out and I was shown to my supervisor (she’d told me she wouldn’t be here). She informed me that she would give me a bunch of uncrunched data to stew over for the next two weeks while she’s out of the country, starting tomorrow. So yeah, I’m on my own for my first two weeks. But there is a lot of data to process, so I should have my hands full, and there are other people who can answer my questions about it.
I’m living in a four-bedroom guesthouse and each bedroom has it’s own toilet and shower, which is very nice. The housekeeper was kind to give me a larger, sunnier room since I’m staying so long. There is another girl from my school here, whom I’ve never met before today, but she seems super nice. There’s also a girl from Cambridge and a guy from Tanzania, and everyone is very nice. The girls have been here for a week already, so know a couple of the ins and outs (which are not at all easy to figure out!)
Despite having a pretty good idea of what most of Africa is like, I had for some reason expected Entebbe to be fairly upscale. Don’t ask where I got that impression. It is false. Many of the locals live in or work out of shacks (possibly both in the same shack?) A major industry around here appears to be taxiing people around on the backs of motor bikes (boda boda). I have not tried this yet and do not currently have any intention to do so. There are white people here, at least in the institution, so I know I’m not a complete novelty, but people still stare (perhaps it is my level of whiteness, which borders on glow-in-the-dark). As I was walking to the institute, I could hear little footsteps behind me, running to catch up. They slowed to a walk and followed me about a pace behind. I turned and the little boy said, “OwareYOU!” To which I said, “Hello, how are you?” and he responded, “Fine.” English is the official language of Uganda and most people with rudimentary education speak it, but I’m not sure exactly how much English the children know.
My supervisor had informed me that the internet was both quick and reliable, but so far it doesn’t seem to be either (I’m writing this in Word because I have no internet access in the guesthouse.) Apparently, rain is enough to disrupt the connection in the guesthouse. I also discovered that the institution I’m working and living at blocks Facebook and Gmail chat, my main ways of communicating with friends and family, respectively. Also, perhaps more importantly, I can’t seem to access the remote desktop system our school provides for us to be able to use certain software programs. This could be bad if I end up needing any of those programs for my project (though I don’t think I will.)
Anyway, I’m lucky I have any internet access at all. And this place is way cool. There are tons of cool bird sounds and when I was walking to the institute earlier, I saw monkeys jumping from tree to tree. Monkeys! In a residential area! Despite the culture shock, I think I could get used to this. Unless I get malaria, food poisoning, my room becomes infested with any sort of pest, or a tick burrows into my skin. Then I’ll be on the next plane out. What can I say? I’m a wuss.
I’m living in a four-bedroom guesthouse and each bedroom has it’s own toilet and shower, which is very nice. The housekeeper was kind to give me a larger, sunnier room since I’m staying so long. There is another girl from my school here, whom I’ve never met before today, but she seems super nice. There’s also a girl from Cambridge and a guy from Tanzania, and everyone is very nice. The girls have been here for a week already, so know a couple of the ins and outs (which are not at all easy to figure out!)
Despite having a pretty good idea of what most of Africa is like, I had for some reason expected Entebbe to be fairly upscale. Don’t ask where I got that impression. It is false. Many of the locals live in or work out of shacks (possibly both in the same shack?) A major industry around here appears to be taxiing people around on the backs of motor bikes (boda boda). I have not tried this yet and do not currently have any intention to do so. There are white people here, at least in the institution, so I know I’m not a complete novelty, but people still stare (perhaps it is my level of whiteness, which borders on glow-in-the-dark). As I was walking to the institute, I could hear little footsteps behind me, running to catch up. They slowed to a walk and followed me about a pace behind. I turned and the little boy said, “OwareYOU!” To which I said, “Hello, how are you?” and he responded, “Fine.” English is the official language of Uganda and most people with rudimentary education speak it, but I’m not sure exactly how much English the children know.
My supervisor had informed me that the internet was both quick and reliable, but so far it doesn’t seem to be either (I’m writing this in Word because I have no internet access in the guesthouse.) Apparently, rain is enough to disrupt the connection in the guesthouse. I also discovered that the institution I’m working and living at blocks Facebook and Gmail chat, my main ways of communicating with friends and family, respectively. Also, perhaps more importantly, I can’t seem to access the remote desktop system our school provides for us to be able to use certain software programs. This could be bad if I end up needing any of those programs for my project (though I don’t think I will.)
Anyway, I’m lucky I have any internet access at all. And this place is way cool. There are tons of cool bird sounds and when I was walking to the institute earlier, I saw monkeys jumping from tree to tree. Monkeys! In a residential area! Despite the culture shock, I think I could get used to this. Unless I get malaria, food poisoning, my room becomes infested with any sort of pest, or a tick burrows into my skin. Then I’ll be on the next plane out. What can I say? I’m a wuss.
Missed flight
So yeah, I’m an idiot and I missed my flight. Well, I missed baggage check-in for my flight, to be more exact, by 20 minutes. Panicked, I ran to the ticket counter to see what could be done, but as soon as I got there, the woman disappeared for an hour to work the boarding gate. When she returned, she put me on the list for stand-by for tonight’s flight, saying I just needed to pay £75 changing fee today. She said the baggage check-in would open at 3:30pm and her window would open at 4.
So I headed back to London and spent the night in Holly’s room (I moved out of my room yesterday). We got back to the airport today at 2pm, hoping that we could be first in line for baggage check-in. We were and check-in opened early at 3, but the check-in lady said I had to pay the fee first, at the ticket window which didn’t open until 4. So I camped out in front of the ticket window for an hour, with a line forming behind me, but it didn’t open until 4:30. Knowing that stand-by was first come, first served, I was worried that there would be people on the list before me. I paid my fee, then headed back to check-in to get my bags tagged. They checked me in as stand-by and tagged my bags and told me to come back at 6:50, but just as I was about to walk away to wait, a woman came up and told them to book me on the flight. I even got to choose a window seat! Happy day!
In the end, it was probably slightly good that I spent an extra day in London, because I discovered this morning that my residence hall had direct-debited a full month’s rent from my bank account even though I moved out yesterday. Since I was still in London, I was able to go yell at them and demand my £815 back. Morons.
So I headed back to London and spent the night in Holly’s room (I moved out of my room yesterday). We got back to the airport today at 2pm, hoping that we could be first in line for baggage check-in. We were and check-in opened early at 3, but the check-in lady said I had to pay the fee first, at the ticket window which didn’t open until 4. So I camped out in front of the ticket window for an hour, with a line forming behind me, but it didn’t open until 4:30. Knowing that stand-by was first come, first served, I was worried that there would be people on the list before me. I paid my fee, then headed back to check-in to get my bags tagged. They checked me in as stand-by and tagged my bags and told me to come back at 6:50, but just as I was about to walk away to wait, a woman came up and told them to book me on the flight. I even got to choose a window seat! Happy day!
In the end, it was probably slightly good that I spent an extra day in London, because I discovered this morning that my residence hall had direct-debited a full month’s rent from my bank account even though I moved out yesterday. Since I was still in London, I was able to go yell at them and demand my £815 back. Morons.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Bad news at the Arts Club
Alex lives (lived) in Notting Hill, right across the street from a place called the Notting Hill Arts Club. It sounds like a community center, but it's an uber-hip, alternative nightclub where they play emergent hip-hop artists. Alex says there's always a line in front of it and we've talked about going there someday. But she's in Africa now, and Alicia wanted to go, so I jumped at the opportunity. It was a really cool place and I'd like to go back. The performers were talented and I was really enjoying myself, until one group, in the middle of their set, announced that Michael Jackson had just died. They were visibly shaken, as they clearly saw him as an influence, so they had the dj play some MJ songs. It was so bizarre, no one could believe it and we all got on our cell phones or Blackberries to verify the news. But the weird thing was that people were dancing. I mean, it's hard to deny the urge to dance to a Michael Jackson song, but it didn't feel right. I've never been a big fan of the man, but I couldn't get jiggy to his music immediately after hearing of his death. It didn't seem reverent. I genuinely hope he finds peace in death. It certainly seemed out of his reach during life.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
More Amazing Adventures in London
GRRR! People in administrative positions who process many applications should learn how to read them properly! I turned in a form to get travel insurance from the school and received a confirmation for travel cover for Kenya...even though I'm going to Uganda. And I received an email about my ethics form (which they are taking their SWEET TIME processing!) asking me if I have local ethical approval for my project and could I please submit the info sheet and consent form I'll be using to interview people...even though I stated very clearly on my form that I do have local approval (and I listed the multiple institutions which granted it) and that I will not be interviewing anyone, so I don't need friggin' consent forms. READ, people!
Grr. Mustn't get cranky now. I've had a good (if tense) week.
Exams are over. I feel that I did not fail either of them, which makes me happy. With this school/course, the point isn't really to pass with a good grade; the point is just to pass, which is nice. After the second exam, on Wednesday, we all headed to a nice pub where I proceeded to get tipsy (and then announce to everyone repeatedly that I was drunk). Then a few of us went for karaoke, which was super fun, then I met Carina and Alex at a nightclub. It was absolutely packed (with people under 21 years old) and we were all dripping with sweat. At one point, some dude with his back to mine was trying to edge me out of my dance space, so I kind of gently pushed him backwards to give myself more space. He then leaned against me really hard to push me into Alex, so I elbowed him...several times in a row. He didn't like this, so he shoved me hard into Alex, spilling both our drinks on us and Carina so we were all dripping. I turned around in full fight mode, and Carina and Alex were pissed off as well. We all started yelling at him and I looked at him and realized he was a full head taller than me. I came up to his shoulder. This of course made me feel feistier, because I knew that a guy that big wouldn't dare fight a girl my size. There was a tense moment until he realized he had shoved a 5'3" girl, and then I think he might have realized that wasn't cool. Meanwhile, his girlfriend was also in fight mode and started wiping the two drops of spilled drink off of his arm as if we were bitches for having spilled our drinks on him. This made Carina angry, seeing as how we were all dripping from our own drinks, so she wiped the drink (which was mostly sweat, really) off of her face and wiped it on the girl's face. Is that not the most amazing thing you've ever heard? Carina's insane. Of course, the girl didn't take too kindly to that and she looked ready for a fight, but for some reason, thought better of it and the whole situation diffused. Weird, huh? I *almost* got in my first bar fight!
Later on in the evening, some guy was dancing behind me (I hate when they do that; it really makes you feel like an object) and he kept sliding his hands up to my boobs, and I kept redirecting them back down to my hips. I turned to look at him, and he could not have been older than 18. I got felt-up by a kid. Ew.
Last night was our school's end-of-classes-and-exams party. It was super fun, although Alex had to leave early in order to get ready for her 3:30 am taxi to Heathrow. Poor thing. I'm going to miss her massively. Back at school, my crush randomly walked up to me and showed me his underwear. Yep, his underwear, which had his name on them. Classy. I sure know how to pick 'em. At the end of the night, he told me I should "email and stuff" so naturally I started imagining our wedding (JUST KIDDING!) Holly and Kate both danced with the Silver Fox, a teacher at our school who they're both gaga over, and Holly has decided to never wash again in order to keep his DNA on her as long as possible.
Now my friends will start disappearing one by one. Well, not really. Many of them are doing summer projects in London, but we are all dispersing and I need to deal with the fact that my super amazing year in London is over. I'll stay here until December at least, and probably still have an amazing time, but it won't be the same without everyone, without school. My closest friends will still be here, but everyone else will be gone. Time to let go and move on.
But if you'll excuse, I need to go shopping for a Tinkerbell costume for a Disney-themed birthday party tomorrow. Guess it's not time to move on just yet.
PS I miss you all!
Grr. Mustn't get cranky now. I've had a good (if tense) week.
Exams are over. I feel that I did not fail either of them, which makes me happy. With this school/course, the point isn't really to pass with a good grade; the point is just to pass, which is nice. After the second exam, on Wednesday, we all headed to a nice pub where I proceeded to get tipsy (and then announce to everyone repeatedly that I was drunk). Then a few of us went for karaoke, which was super fun, then I met Carina and Alex at a nightclub. It was absolutely packed (with people under 21 years old) and we were all dripping with sweat. At one point, some dude with his back to mine was trying to edge me out of my dance space, so I kind of gently pushed him backwards to give myself more space. He then leaned against me really hard to push me into Alex, so I elbowed him...several times in a row. He didn't like this, so he shoved me hard into Alex, spilling both our drinks on us and Carina so we were all dripping. I turned around in full fight mode, and Carina and Alex were pissed off as well. We all started yelling at him and I looked at him and realized he was a full head taller than me. I came up to his shoulder. This of course made me feel feistier, because I knew that a guy that big wouldn't dare fight a girl my size. There was a tense moment until he realized he had shoved a 5'3" girl, and then I think he might have realized that wasn't cool. Meanwhile, his girlfriend was also in fight mode and started wiping the two drops of spilled drink off of his arm as if we were bitches for having spilled our drinks on him. This made Carina angry, seeing as how we were all dripping from our own drinks, so she wiped the drink (which was mostly sweat, really) off of her face and wiped it on the girl's face. Is that not the most amazing thing you've ever heard? Carina's insane. Of course, the girl didn't take too kindly to that and she looked ready for a fight, but for some reason, thought better of it and the whole situation diffused. Weird, huh? I *almost* got in my first bar fight!
Later on in the evening, some guy was dancing behind me (I hate when they do that; it really makes you feel like an object) and he kept sliding his hands up to my boobs, and I kept redirecting them back down to my hips. I turned to look at him, and he could not have been older than 18. I got felt-up by a kid. Ew.
Last night was our school's end-of-classes-and-exams party. It was super fun, although Alex had to leave early in order to get ready for her 3:30 am taxi to Heathrow. Poor thing. I'm going to miss her massively. Back at school, my crush randomly walked up to me and showed me his underwear. Yep, his underwear, which had his name on them. Classy. I sure know how to pick 'em. At the end of the night, he told me I should "email and stuff" so naturally I started imagining our wedding (JUST KIDDING!) Holly and Kate both danced with the Silver Fox, a teacher at our school who they're both gaga over, and Holly has decided to never wash again in order to keep his DNA on her as long as possible.
Now my friends will start disappearing one by one. Well, not really. Many of them are doing summer projects in London, but we are all dispersing and I need to deal with the fact that my super amazing year in London is over. I'll stay here until December at least, and probably still have an amazing time, but it won't be the same without everyone, without school. My closest friends will still be here, but everyone else will be gone. Time to let go and move on.
But if you'll excuse, I need to go shopping for a Tinkerbell costume for a Disney-themed birthday party tomorrow. Guess it's not time to move on just yet.
PS I miss you all!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Stress starts with S, just like Schistosomiasis!
Another day of studying and I'm back in stress zone. This time, no wine was involved. Coincidence? I think not.
I hate stress. It feels awful. It makes me feel like I want to die (without actually wanting to die, of course). I can't wait for this to be over, even though I know I'll just replace this stress with other stress. But at least it'll be stress minus the hours and hours and days and days of cramming facts into my brain, facts which I will, without doubt, forget as soon as exams are over.
Hugs, please?
And yay for Jody for graduating (and Amy back in May)! As I'm sure everyone in the family has said (and if they haven't, they're missing prime teasing fodder), It's about time! j/k
I'm gonna go put my poor, beleaguered brain to bed, as it has obviously already turned to mush.
I hate stress. It feels awful. It makes me feel like I want to die (without actually wanting to die, of course). I can't wait for this to be over, even though I know I'll just replace this stress with other stress. But at least it'll be stress minus the hours and hours and days and days of cramming facts into my brain, facts which I will, without doubt, forget as soon as exams are over.
Hugs, please?
And yay for Jody for graduating (and Amy back in May)! As I'm sure everyone in the family has said (and if they haven't, they're missing prime teasing fodder), It's about time! j/k
I'm gonna go put my poor, beleaguered brain to bed, as it has obviously already turned to mush.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
I am studying REALLY hard
It's 2am on a Friday night (make that Saturday morning) and I just got home. Out partying all night? Dancing the night away in a club? No, way better than that. There ain't nothing like hanging out at school with friends until the wee hours, drinking stolen, quality red wine, listening to country music (which I still hate) and studying communicable diseases. Ah, this is the life.
I have more or less been studying for 5 weeks now. Two weeks of working on assignments for my last term of classes, and three weeks studying for the big final exams. I have two 3-hour exams, one each on Monday and Wednesday. I have spent the past few weeks fluctuating between a quiet acceptance that I will do poorly on the exams and full-on panic that I will know nothing I'll be tested on. It wasn't until around midnight tonight that I started to feel like I might finally be absorbing some of the facts I've been staring at for two weeks. I'm sure the wine helped. I totally feel like I could respond to an outbreak if I needed to! You just have to assemble a team, confirm that there is actually an outbreak, come up with a case definition, and...oh, some other stuff. Hypotheses and shit like that. I still only know four of the five criteria for figuring out whether a diarrheal disease is water-borne or water-washed, but that's better than knowing none!
I'm feeling prit-tee good. And now it's time to put myself to bed.
I have more or less been studying for 5 weeks now. Two weeks of working on assignments for my last term of classes, and three weeks studying for the big final exams. I have two 3-hour exams, one each on Monday and Wednesday. I have spent the past few weeks fluctuating between a quiet acceptance that I will do poorly on the exams and full-on panic that I will know nothing I'll be tested on. It wasn't until around midnight tonight that I started to feel like I might finally be absorbing some of the facts I've been staring at for two weeks. I'm sure the wine helped. I totally feel like I could respond to an outbreak if I needed to! You just have to assemble a team, confirm that there is actually an outbreak, come up with a case definition, and...oh, some other stuff. Hypotheses and shit like that. I still only know four of the five criteria for figuring out whether a diarrheal disease is water-borne or water-washed, but that's better than knowing none!
I'm feeling prit-tee good. And now it's time to put myself to bed.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
A rather odd day
In preparation for my impending trip to Uganda, I visited the travel clinic on Monday to discuss vaccines and malaria tablets. The school gives each of us 200 pounds to spend at the travel clinic, and if we go over that, we have to pay out of pocket. The nurse and I discussed vaccines, and it was recommended that I get the yellow fever vaccine, Hepatitis A vaccine, and a polio booster. I decided to wait on all and see if my GP would give them to me for free. Turns out, they charge more for yellow fever, but they'll give me Hep A and polio vaccines for free (thanks, NHS!) So then we discussed malaria prophylaxis. For those who don't know, malaria prophylaxis, which helps protect you from getting malaria, is notorious for side effects. They are very unpleasant drugs to be on, but the idea is that malaria sucks a lot worse than the side effects of the drugs. The nurse recommended against the cheapest ones, Mefloquine, because of my history of depression and anxiety. (Also, my friends were telling me that this one can cause delusions.) She recommended against the second cheapest one, Doxycycline, because of my ongoing stomach problems. So I got sent home with the most expensive malaria pills on the market, Malarone. Nine weeks' worth of Malarone costs roughly 200 pounds, which ate up my entire budget for travel meds. I'll have to pay for the yellow fever vaccine out of pocket. On the plus side, Malarone has the fewest side effects, so maybe my body won't hate me too much for taking it.
So, here's where the fun begins. Yesterday, I went back to the travel clinic to get the yellow fever vaccine. People had said the needle was really big and the vaccine can make you sick, but I was determined not to get freaked out. I stayed calm through the whole process, even as the nurse set the needle down directly in front of me. I thought, "I'll just look over at these insect repellants sitting here on the desk," but she the needle was in my arm and out again before I had the chance to. And it wasn't big. It was totally alright! I felt fine. The nurse sat back down and started to write, and I just sat and waited.
Hm, my arm feels a tiny bit funny. I'll just flex it so it doesn't get sore.
Okay, now it feels really funny. Just keep flexing.
Within seconds, a wave of nauseau flooded over me. "I don't feel so good," I said.
"Do you want to lie down?" the nurse asked.
I remember answering "yes," but after that there's a blank spot in my memory. When I came to, the nurse was struggling to keep me in the chair with my head between my legs, telling me to take deep breaths and calling for backup. It occured to me that I had fainted, which I found fascinating. It also occured to me that my head hurt, and that I must have hit it on the table on the way down.
The aftermath was, in a word, ridiculous. They asked me if I was afraid of needles and if I had eaten breakfast. I answered "yes" to both, but they decided to check my blood sugar anyway. Right, prick the finger of the girl who just fainted because of a needle. So the nurse pricked my finger, but couldn't get the machine to read correctly, and wanted to do another finger prick. I decided to put my foot down, as I was in no state to be stabbed again. Luckily, another nurse came in and got the machine to work, so they were able to use my first prick. Once I stabilized and felt better, a doctor was called in to look at the cut on my head. She was slightly worried that I might have a concussion, and she asked if I lived with anyone who could watch me for the next several hours. I said I lived alone. The phrase "because you live alone" or "because she lives alone" was then repeated several times. They decided that, because I lived alone and they didn't have the capacity to keep an eye on me, they should send me to the emergency room. The hospital with the emergency room is located about 500 yards from the travel clinic, and though I could walk just fine, they decided to call an ambulance to drive me over. I sat in the waiting room for 20 minutes waiting for the ambulance, enough time for me to have walked to the ER and back 10 or 15 times.
As no wheelchairs were available, I walked with the ambulance drivers down to the car. It was really less of an ambulance and more of a van with individual seats on either side. They drove me the two minutes to the hospital, then took me to A&E Minors (minor accidents and emergencies). The travel clinic said that Minors was expecting me, but they weren't. They had no idea what to do with me, so they stuck me in a bed and told me to undress and put on a gown. A nurse took my vitals (including another finger prick for blood sugar). Everything was normal. After a while, two doctors stopped and looked at me. The first explained what had happened, and the second asked how I was feeling. I said I felt alright, so she said, "She doesn't need to be here either," then they both walked off. A nurse came a couple minutes later, so I asked her what that meant, and she said it was just a manner of speaking and that I should lie back and relax. I did this for a few more minutes, then decided to do a urine sample. When I came out of the bathroom, the second doctor was standing in front of the door holding my clothes and my purse. "We needed that bed for someone else. You can get dressed. You don't need a bed." She practically threw my stuff on the floor of the bathroom and walked off.
When I came out of the bathroom, the doctor called to me from 10 feet away to go wait in the waiting room. I wasn't sure what waiting room she meant, but she was far too busy to answer stupid questions like that, so she waved for me to follow her as she took off down the hall.
"Go through those doors and wait to be called," she barked. I walked up to the doors and pulled the handle. Nothing happened. As she walked away from me down the hall, she called, "Push the green button" as if I was an idiot.
Feeling completely confused, disoriented, and abused, I sat down in the waiting room to wait for I knew not what. I waited for this Great Unknown for about 20 minutes, when Alex texted me to say she had finished her exam. I asked her to come pick me up, then I went to find the doctor to tell her I was leaving. I tried going back through the same doors I had come in through, but of course, those are locked to keep people like me from harassing the busy doctors. So I went to the receptionist and explained that I didn't know why I was there, and could I leave? She said I hadn't been discharged, that a doctor was supposed to talk to me at some point, but that I could leave if I wanted. So I did. I figured I probably didn't have a concussion, but even if I did, I had planned to spend the whole day with friends, anyway.
So Alex came to pick me up and we went to Oxford Street to buy make-up. I mean, that's what everyone does after fainting and spending the entire morning in the ER, right? After that, we went to T-Mobile, where I switched from pay-as-you-go to a cheaper, non-contracted plan wherein I get unlimited text messages. Why did I wait until now to do this???
Towards dinner time, I went to Carina's to study (which I didn't do, but it's okay, because I've been working really hard lately and could afford to take a night off). Last week, Carina decided she wanted a massage, and found a guy advertising free massages on gumtree (the equivalent of Craigslist). He claimed he was trying to build up a client base. Everyone thought Carina was insane for emailing him. He was obviously: a) a prostitute, b) a rapist, or c) an axe-murderer. But Carina is smart, and she arranged to have a friend get a free massage with her (that friend was not me, by the way). I showed up at her house unaware that the free massage was taking place that very evening. And Carina was right to trust him. He really was just offering free massages. Or maybe he was an axe-murderer, but didn't want to take his chances with three girls in the house, one of whom was on her way to hockey and thus sporting a hockey stick. But he gave Carina and her friend massages while I watched Britain's Next Top Model over his shoulder.
All in all, a very surreal day. And now it is time to polish off my Tropical Environmental Health essay, which, if I manage to finish it today, will be done two days before it's due date. I rock this term (that's not to say I'll get a good grade, though).
So, here's where the fun begins. Yesterday, I went back to the travel clinic to get the yellow fever vaccine. People had said the needle was really big and the vaccine can make you sick, but I was determined not to get freaked out. I stayed calm through the whole process, even as the nurse set the needle down directly in front of me. I thought, "I'll just look over at these insect repellants sitting here on the desk," but she the needle was in my arm and out again before I had the chance to. And it wasn't big. It was totally alright! I felt fine. The nurse sat back down and started to write, and I just sat and waited.
Hm, my arm feels a tiny bit funny. I'll just flex it so it doesn't get sore.
Okay, now it feels really funny. Just keep flexing.
Within seconds, a wave of nauseau flooded over me. "I don't feel so good," I said.
"Do you want to lie down?" the nurse asked.
I remember answering "yes," but after that there's a blank spot in my memory. When I came to, the nurse was struggling to keep me in the chair with my head between my legs, telling me to take deep breaths and calling for backup. It occured to me that I had fainted, which I found fascinating. It also occured to me that my head hurt, and that I must have hit it on the table on the way down.
The aftermath was, in a word, ridiculous. They asked me if I was afraid of needles and if I had eaten breakfast. I answered "yes" to both, but they decided to check my blood sugar anyway. Right, prick the finger of the girl who just fainted because of a needle. So the nurse pricked my finger, but couldn't get the machine to read correctly, and wanted to do another finger prick. I decided to put my foot down, as I was in no state to be stabbed again. Luckily, another nurse came in and got the machine to work, so they were able to use my first prick. Once I stabilized and felt better, a doctor was called in to look at the cut on my head. She was slightly worried that I might have a concussion, and she asked if I lived with anyone who could watch me for the next several hours. I said I lived alone. The phrase "because you live alone" or "because she lives alone" was then repeated several times. They decided that, because I lived alone and they didn't have the capacity to keep an eye on me, they should send me to the emergency room. The hospital with the emergency room is located about 500 yards from the travel clinic, and though I could walk just fine, they decided to call an ambulance to drive me over. I sat in the waiting room for 20 minutes waiting for the ambulance, enough time for me to have walked to the ER and back 10 or 15 times.
As no wheelchairs were available, I walked with the ambulance drivers down to the car. It was really less of an ambulance and more of a van with individual seats on either side. They drove me the two minutes to the hospital, then took me to A&E Minors (minor accidents and emergencies). The travel clinic said that Minors was expecting me, but they weren't. They had no idea what to do with me, so they stuck me in a bed and told me to undress and put on a gown. A nurse took my vitals (including another finger prick for blood sugar). Everything was normal. After a while, two doctors stopped and looked at me. The first explained what had happened, and the second asked how I was feeling. I said I felt alright, so she said, "She doesn't need to be here either," then they both walked off. A nurse came a couple minutes later, so I asked her what that meant, and she said it was just a manner of speaking and that I should lie back and relax. I did this for a few more minutes, then decided to do a urine sample. When I came out of the bathroom, the second doctor was standing in front of the door holding my clothes and my purse. "We needed that bed for someone else. You can get dressed. You don't need a bed." She practically threw my stuff on the floor of the bathroom and walked off.
When I came out of the bathroom, the doctor called to me from 10 feet away to go wait in the waiting room. I wasn't sure what waiting room she meant, but she was far too busy to answer stupid questions like that, so she waved for me to follow her as she took off down the hall.
"Go through those doors and wait to be called," she barked. I walked up to the doors and pulled the handle. Nothing happened. As she walked away from me down the hall, she called, "Push the green button" as if I was an idiot.
Feeling completely confused, disoriented, and abused, I sat down in the waiting room to wait for I knew not what. I waited for this Great Unknown for about 20 minutes, when Alex texted me to say she had finished her exam. I asked her to come pick me up, then I went to find the doctor to tell her I was leaving. I tried going back through the same doors I had come in through, but of course, those are locked to keep people like me from harassing the busy doctors. So I went to the receptionist and explained that I didn't know why I was there, and could I leave? She said I hadn't been discharged, that a doctor was supposed to talk to me at some point, but that I could leave if I wanted. So I did. I figured I probably didn't have a concussion, but even if I did, I had planned to spend the whole day with friends, anyway.
So Alex came to pick me up and we went to Oxford Street to buy make-up. I mean, that's what everyone does after fainting and spending the entire morning in the ER, right? After that, we went to T-Mobile, where I switched from pay-as-you-go to a cheaper, non-contracted plan wherein I get unlimited text messages. Why did I wait until now to do this???
Towards dinner time, I went to Carina's to study (which I didn't do, but it's okay, because I've been working really hard lately and could afford to take a night off). Last week, Carina decided she wanted a massage, and found a guy advertising free massages on gumtree (the equivalent of Craigslist). He claimed he was trying to build up a client base. Everyone thought Carina was insane for emailing him. He was obviously: a) a prostitute, b) a rapist, or c) an axe-murderer. But Carina is smart, and she arranged to have a friend get a free massage with her (that friend was not me, by the way). I showed up at her house unaware that the free massage was taking place that very evening. And Carina was right to trust him. He really was just offering free massages. Or maybe he was an axe-murderer, but didn't want to take his chances with three girls in the house, one of whom was on her way to hockey and thus sporting a hockey stick. But he gave Carina and her friend massages while I watched Britain's Next Top Model over his shoulder.
All in all, a very surreal day. And now it is time to polish off my Tropical Environmental Health essay, which, if I manage to finish it today, will be done two days before it's due date. I rock this term (that's not to say I'll get a good grade, though).
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Sleeeeeep
I just finished the third week of my final term of classes. I have two more weeks of classes, then three weeks to hard-core study for final exams, then I'm off to Uganda! (plane tickets not yet purchased, visa not yet acquired, project not yet figured out)
My classes this term are AIDS and Tropical Environmental Health. In other words, I spend the first half of the week talking about sex, and the second half of the week talking about poop. One of our professors in TEH is hoping to win the world record for saying "shit" more times than anyone else.
I have decided to take it easy this weekend. I've been sleep-deprived (and therefore, cranky and depressed) for the past two weeks, so I decided to give myself a rest. Having said that, though, Carina is headed tonight to a club I've been wanting to go to, and I seriously considered going back on my promise to myself to chill out. But then I took a quick nap, and once I tasted the sweet, sweet rapture of sleep, the thought of getting gussied up, going to Camden, dancing, and then having to find my way back home was just too much. So home and sleep it is. Tomorrow is a bridal shower in the park, so that shouldn't interfere with my plan.
Speaking of sleep, I FINALLY saw a doctor yesterday. Let's recap the timeline:
October: asked GP to refer me to sleep specialist
December: appointment with sleep specialist; referral for overnight sleep study
February: overnight sleep study cancelled due to record snowfall
March: microspirometry test replaces overnight sleep study (a tiny machine I take home and clip to my finger to measure oxygen levels in my blood)
April: receive letter saying microspirometry is negative for sleep apnea; appointment scheduled for June; I call to move appointment sooner, since June is more or less when I leave the UK indefinitely
So yesterday, six months after starting the process, I saw a doctor about test results. I had to wait an hour in the waiting room (lucky I didn't have class). He started by saying that I didn't have sleep apnea, my oxygen levels were a flat line. He looked at my file, which says that nothing I've ever tried has worked, then he said that they can't do anything more for me except repeat the same tests I've already done multiple times. He said he could refer me to a neurologist to confirm a diagnosis of narcolepsy, but as it could take a couple months to get an appointment, I told him not to bother. I'm leaving for Africa at the end of June, then may or may not come back to the UK in September (and may or may not have health insurance, depending on whether I get a job). So we decided together not to pursue this anymore for now. He did put a referral letter on my file, so that if I do come back to the UK, I can go see a neurologist immediately.
So that was a bit disappointing, until I remembered what my original objective was back in October: I really just wanted to know if I should be using my CPAP machine (I haven't used it in almost a year). According to the microspirometry test (which I'm not sure I trust, but whatevs), I don't need to use the CPAP. Yay!!! Now I can continue to not use it, but guilt-free!
My classes this term are AIDS and Tropical Environmental Health. In other words, I spend the first half of the week talking about sex, and the second half of the week talking about poop. One of our professors in TEH is hoping to win the world record for saying "shit" more times than anyone else.
I have decided to take it easy this weekend. I've been sleep-deprived (and therefore, cranky and depressed) for the past two weeks, so I decided to give myself a rest. Having said that, though, Carina is headed tonight to a club I've been wanting to go to, and I seriously considered going back on my promise to myself to chill out. But then I took a quick nap, and once I tasted the sweet, sweet rapture of sleep, the thought of getting gussied up, going to Camden, dancing, and then having to find my way back home was just too much. So home and sleep it is. Tomorrow is a bridal shower in the park, so that shouldn't interfere with my plan.
Speaking of sleep, I FINALLY saw a doctor yesterday. Let's recap the timeline:
October: asked GP to refer me to sleep specialist
December: appointment with sleep specialist; referral for overnight sleep study
February: overnight sleep study cancelled due to record snowfall
March: microspirometry test replaces overnight sleep study (a tiny machine I take home and clip to my finger to measure oxygen levels in my blood)
April: receive letter saying microspirometry is negative for sleep apnea; appointment scheduled for June; I call to move appointment sooner, since June is more or less when I leave the UK indefinitely
So yesterday, six months after starting the process, I saw a doctor about test results. I had to wait an hour in the waiting room (lucky I didn't have class). He started by saying that I didn't have sleep apnea, my oxygen levels were a flat line. He looked at my file, which says that nothing I've ever tried has worked, then he said that they can't do anything more for me except repeat the same tests I've already done multiple times. He said he could refer me to a neurologist to confirm a diagnosis of narcolepsy, but as it could take a couple months to get an appointment, I told him not to bother. I'm leaving for Africa at the end of June, then may or may not come back to the UK in September (and may or may not have health insurance, depending on whether I get a job). So we decided together not to pursue this anymore for now. He did put a referral letter on my file, so that if I do come back to the UK, I can go see a neurologist immediately.
So that was a bit disappointing, until I remembered what my original objective was back in October: I really just wanted to know if I should be using my CPAP machine (I haven't used it in almost a year). According to the microspirometry test (which I'm not sure I trust, but whatevs), I don't need to use the CPAP. Yay!!! Now I can continue to not use it, but guilt-free!
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Conversations
I should probably just give up the ghost and shut this blog down. I never even think about blogging anymore. It's pathetic.
Why I love my friends (and professors):
Tanya: "I thought that was a pancake and I got excited, but it's just a crab."
Holly: (in reference to partying at the Leicester Square Wetherspoon's) "I'd rather have bowel surgery in a wood with a small branch."
Professor Sandy Cairncross (Guru of sanitation): "A virus is like a P.S. at the end of a letter. 'P.S. Double-helix, when copying yourself, could you make five copies of me?'" Personally, I think this needs a "kthxbye!" at the end.
Why I love my friends (and professors):
Tanya: "I thought that was a pancake and I got excited, but it's just a crab."
Holly: (in reference to partying at the Leicester Square Wetherspoon's) "I'd rather have bowel surgery in a wood with a small branch."
Professor Sandy Cairncross (Guru of sanitation): "A virus is like a P.S. at the end of a letter. 'P.S. Double-helix, when copying yourself, could you make five copies of me?'" Personally, I think this needs a "kthxbye!" at the end.
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