Cards of Dengue
Right before I acquired
dengue, I was celebrating the Chinese New Year with a Chinese Indonesian family
that lives near my area. Because
of several invites from friends in my village that would be going into Bandung and
returning back to good old Cikedung-I left site to spend some time in the
city with my Indonesian friends. Usually to get out of site is so much of a pain, I don’t
bother. I had an amazing time and even got to see some fellow Barat
pack members before heading back. I left feeling grateful to have Indonesian
friends and such a strong Catholic community that have welcomed me into their
congregation in so many ways. I came back to Cikedung with two of my friends who were
returning from a wedding in Bandung. As I met them that Sunday afternoon, I realized how much God
has affected my peace corps service. As soon as I embraced the religion all around me
both my own and Islam, my peace corps experience transformed. I've
been accepted into several different communities and I've been able to see the
dynamics between minority and majority populations; ethnically, religiously and
economically as well. What more could I ask for than an almost 360
vision of lives in Indonesia.
That same Sunday as I was returning back to my village, dengue symptoms started to set-in. I spent the 7 hour car ride back, shivering with a fever in the fetal position, headache and stomach pains. These same symptoms did not stop for 6 days. The first 2 days I took some non-aspirin and still managed to teach and hold English Club with a fever and a headache. I was riding my bike so slowly that the men rolling food carts were passing me. On the third day, I stayed home from school and called the Peace Corps doctors at this point my fever was not letting up and instead had increased to 103 and held steady at that temperature for another 3 days. The next day, I had to take a hired van back to Bandung. The car picks up passengers and drops them all off at different destinations in the city. The security guard from the school drove me to the meeting point where we waited 3 hours for the van, after leaving my village at 7am I arrived at the hospital at 7pm that evening. Dengue was so painful that first week, I did not eat anything until after 5-6 days of having a fever. The next day was Friday, still going strong with a fever and no food in my system , I head to the lab to get some blood tests done. I went back to the hospital where I was staying in the guesthouse and hours later, my lab tests came back positive for dengue.
Before I knew it, there was an attendant at my door ready to escort me to the ER. Two student nurses were poking at the sides of my wrist looking for a vein for 15 minutes before they realized there's veins on top of my hands. After the saline drip was in, I just laid there bundled in an ER bed for an hour or so before they moved me to another room. I spent the next 5 days in that same hospital room. With nurses poking at me telling me I still have a fever, my skin itching so much I wanted to tear it off and often screamed and cursed to myself because it was so uncomfortable it just made me angry. After not seeing anything but clouds changing outside my window accompanied with nurses routinely giving me sponge baths and easily irritated by every little thing I did. On the last few days, one of the Peace Corps doctors flew in and gave me some relief from Indonesian hospital life. Throughout my time in the hospital, a fellow volunteer was also stuck on a medical visit and was kind enough to keep me company although I cannot imagine I was much company. My host family drove down to Bandung to spend a few minutes with me during visiting hours, only to head back home right after. My parents and family members would call every few hours asking how I was, because I was frustrated and unable to change my situation I wish I seemed more grateful for their worried phone calls.
Eventually, my red blood cell count was getting higher each day and my white blood cells were back up and running too. There was a point during this horrible episode where my body did not have enough white blood cells to protect me if I were not in a controlled environment. That last day in the hospital all of a sudden, the nurses are interested in where I'm from and what I do and I can’t muster much to tell them because for almost a week they treated me like I was some idiot that asked to be put in their service. My last day in the hospital, I got a surprise visit from our Country Director and one of the regional managers who were in town for a meeting with the provincial government and minutes later my principal and some teachers from school arrived to my hospital room to bring me back home to Cikedung.
I do not know if its illness, hospitals, lack of mobility and independence but dengue broke me a little. I came back to my village, 4 kilos (8.8 lbs) lighter, and drained of any and most energy. I ran out of pulsa while I was in the hospital, so I went on a walk to the Telkomsel counter to get some more minutes on my phone. While I was there I stopped in to see some old neighbors and my old host family. I tried to smile as much as I could but instead all I could manage was nervous laughter every time someone would comment on how much weight I lost or how I should be resting. My old host mom looked at me with a worried face as if she was looking at a ghost and said that I'm usually so happy but right now I look like I'm missing something. Dengue had sucked the semangat (spirit) right out of me. I was sitting on my neighbor's porch and she started crying, her daughter who is my age and pregnant with her second child chimed in that they've been worried sick and felt horrible that I had to be in the hospital by myself and away from my family.
I've been out of the hospital for 4 days now, and throughout 3 days on house arrest all I could think about was how I did not want to be here in Cikedung. How I wanted to be back home in New York with my family surrounded by snow and tucked under my covers and wake up to eat real American food. Friday afternoon, I snuck out for my first bike ride to school so I could see my dance club kids at practice. I watched them as they already had new routines down for 3 different songs while I sat there having mixed feelings between pride and being completely useless. Today I went out and got some wifi and tried to spend some quality time with some friends in my village. I came back home today feeling a little more loved and useful. After I ate dinner I signed onto facebook with my new found wifi and after answering messages from some students. I found one of my students' Facebook statuses from a few days ago praying to God for my quick recovery and return to school. Tears shed down my face for the first time this year just as they are right now and I was brought back to my senses. How could I possibly imagine leaving these people that have become so much of my life for a few seconds of American comforts? I may feel useless for a few more weeks, but as little as I am doing here at least I'm surrounded by people that genuinely care about me in a completely foreign land.
A 23-year old woman who was engaged to be married next month, acquired dengue the same time as me. She passed away earlier today. My thoughts are with her family and fiance. Fate dealt me some cards and I'm still here from a mosquito borne illness that does not even kill that many people and yet it took a life that would have mirrored my own had I been born in Indonesia.
That same Sunday as I was returning back to my village, dengue symptoms started to set-in. I spent the 7 hour car ride back, shivering with a fever in the fetal position, headache and stomach pains. These same symptoms did not stop for 6 days. The first 2 days I took some non-aspirin and still managed to teach and hold English Club with a fever and a headache. I was riding my bike so slowly that the men rolling food carts were passing me. On the third day, I stayed home from school and called the Peace Corps doctors at this point my fever was not letting up and instead had increased to 103 and held steady at that temperature for another 3 days. The next day, I had to take a hired van back to Bandung. The car picks up passengers and drops them all off at different destinations in the city. The security guard from the school drove me to the meeting point where we waited 3 hours for the van, after leaving my village at 7am I arrived at the hospital at 7pm that evening. Dengue was so painful that first week, I did not eat anything until after 5-6 days of having a fever. The next day was Friday, still going strong with a fever and no food in my system , I head to the lab to get some blood tests done. I went back to the hospital where I was staying in the guesthouse and hours later, my lab tests came back positive for dengue.
Before I knew it, there was an attendant at my door ready to escort me to the ER. Two student nurses were poking at the sides of my wrist looking for a vein for 15 minutes before they realized there's veins on top of my hands. After the saline drip was in, I just laid there bundled in an ER bed for an hour or so before they moved me to another room. I spent the next 5 days in that same hospital room. With nurses poking at me telling me I still have a fever, my skin itching so much I wanted to tear it off and often screamed and cursed to myself because it was so uncomfortable it just made me angry. After not seeing anything but clouds changing outside my window accompanied with nurses routinely giving me sponge baths and easily irritated by every little thing I did. On the last few days, one of the Peace Corps doctors flew in and gave me some relief from Indonesian hospital life. Throughout my time in the hospital, a fellow volunteer was also stuck on a medical visit and was kind enough to keep me company although I cannot imagine I was much company. My host family drove down to Bandung to spend a few minutes with me during visiting hours, only to head back home right after. My parents and family members would call every few hours asking how I was, because I was frustrated and unable to change my situation I wish I seemed more grateful for their worried phone calls.
Eventually, my red blood cell count was getting higher each day and my white blood cells were back up and running too. There was a point during this horrible episode where my body did not have enough white blood cells to protect me if I were not in a controlled environment. That last day in the hospital all of a sudden, the nurses are interested in where I'm from and what I do and I can’t muster much to tell them because for almost a week they treated me like I was some idiot that asked to be put in their service. My last day in the hospital, I got a surprise visit from our Country Director and one of the regional managers who were in town for a meeting with the provincial government and minutes later my principal and some teachers from school arrived to my hospital room to bring me back home to Cikedung.
I do not know if its illness, hospitals, lack of mobility and independence but dengue broke me a little. I came back to my village, 4 kilos (8.8 lbs) lighter, and drained of any and most energy. I ran out of pulsa while I was in the hospital, so I went on a walk to the Telkomsel counter to get some more minutes on my phone. While I was there I stopped in to see some old neighbors and my old host family. I tried to smile as much as I could but instead all I could manage was nervous laughter every time someone would comment on how much weight I lost or how I should be resting. My old host mom looked at me with a worried face as if she was looking at a ghost and said that I'm usually so happy but right now I look like I'm missing something. Dengue had sucked the semangat (spirit) right out of me. I was sitting on my neighbor's porch and she started crying, her daughter who is my age and pregnant with her second child chimed in that they've been worried sick and felt horrible that I had to be in the hospital by myself and away from my family.
I've been out of the hospital for 4 days now, and throughout 3 days on house arrest all I could think about was how I did not want to be here in Cikedung. How I wanted to be back home in New York with my family surrounded by snow and tucked under my covers and wake up to eat real American food. Friday afternoon, I snuck out for my first bike ride to school so I could see my dance club kids at practice. I watched them as they already had new routines down for 3 different songs while I sat there having mixed feelings between pride and being completely useless. Today I went out and got some wifi and tried to spend some quality time with some friends in my village. I came back home today feeling a little more loved and useful. After I ate dinner I signed onto facebook with my new found wifi and after answering messages from some students. I found one of my students' Facebook statuses from a few days ago praying to God for my quick recovery and return to school. Tears shed down my face for the first time this year just as they are right now and I was brought back to my senses. How could I possibly imagine leaving these people that have become so much of my life for a few seconds of American comforts? I may feel useless for a few more weeks, but as little as I am doing here at least I'm surrounded by people that genuinely care about me in a completely foreign land.
A 23-year old woman who was engaged to be married next month, acquired dengue the same time as me. She passed away earlier today. My thoughts are with her family and fiance. Fate dealt me some cards and I'm still here from a mosquito borne illness that does not even kill that many people and yet it took a life that would have mirrored my own had I been born in Indonesia.
Masih hidup.
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