Hey, Frog Face

Seems that Bolivia and I are still working out the health and sanitation aspects of our new friendship. I understood the stomach bug I had a few weeks ago –everyone, apparently, suffers from amoebas, bacteria, giardia, salmonella, etc. every now and then on account of the lack of clean water, clean surfaces, and soap in these parts.

But I was a little irked this past Saturday when I felt a cold coming on, given that this is the city of eternal spring (not cold season), and because I’ve made a concerted effort not to touch my face or lick any fingers before washing my hands. Hoping to beat the bug, I took it easy and slept most of the day Sunday, but by Monday I was sleeping in a puddle of my own sweat with a fever of 103. I didn’t bother calling the doc because the hour and a half bus ride to the medical office sounded like more than my aching body could handle. Fortunately, whatever was in me pretty much cleared itself out by midday Tuesday, and I made it to class that afternoon, glad to be back in the game.

Same day at 2:30 I had an eye booger. By 5:00 my eyes were swelling shut and oozing yellow yogurt. Disgusting. I know. I guess somehow between 10 am, when I emerged from the mosquito net, and 2 pm, when I went to class, I touched something dirty and wrong and then stuck one of my conjunctivitis covered fingers in both my eyes. It’s that easy, kids.

Things were not looking good (namely me), so I called the doc, shared the details, and made the three hour journey to the city, accompanied by my loving hubby, to pick up some meds she prescribed for me. I was half blind by the time we got home at 9:00 last night. I put in the drops before bed and woke up this morning looking a lot like a frog with Trisomy 21. On the sunny side, I got out of class again, and it’s a beautiful, spring-like day here in Matenda, Bolivia.

Be grateful, ye in clean America, for all the times you’ve licked your fingers, picked your nose, sucked your thumb, bit your nails, or rubbed your eyes, and walked away unscathed.