Yesterday started out as a normal day. I got up, had breakfast and coffee, and went to team prayer. The only thing that seemed off was that it appeared I had another UTI…the third one in a month. I drank an entire liter of water before prayer, but it didn’t seem to have any effect so I knew I’d need treatment. Because this was the third one, I decided that it would probably be best to seek a medical professional’s opinion before self-treating. The first time, I called a nurse in Kampala who advised me on the medicine and dosage instructions, which was exactly the same as what I’ve done in the States. It did seem to clear it up. But then it came back about a week later, and I took the same course of antibiotics. Again, it seemed to clear up. But recurring infections are a different ballgame, so yesterday morning after prayer, Christina and I walked to MSF (Doctors Without Borders) so that I could talk to a doctor.
Once there, we were taken back to the staff compound, where I could meet with the doctor, Ahmed, in a more private setting. When I explained my history and symptoms, he made a face of concern, but only briefly. He ordered a urinalysis just to see what was going on before prescribing anything. After I dropped the sample off at the lab, Christina and I stood around talking to the women who were also waiting for various test results. It was a lot of fun to practice our Nuer with the ladies, and it passed the time quickly. Soon, they were summoning me with the results. I was told to speak to the doctor so he could read them to me, so I found Ahmed and showed him the report. He nodded, made some noises of agreement, and then said the dreaded words, “Let’s find a quiet place where we can talk.”
Never good.
When we sat down, he solemnly explained that I did, in fact, have a UTI. However, it was quite severe. He said that whenever they see results like this, they advise immediate hospitalization for a treatment of IV antibiotics. Wha?!? He went on to explain the urgency of the infection, outlining my options and describing what would happen if I waited more than a couple of days before seeking treatment.
My options were this: either be hospitalized here in Nasir at MSF or get a flight back to Kampala to be hospitalized there. Either way, I was going to spend five days in a hospital somewhere. We came home, I explained everything to Blaise (who was stunned), we called Kerry, and we decided that immediate hospitalization here in Nasir was the best option. It would save money (not having to pay for an emergency flight) and it would get me treatment right away, which is what I needed. Plus, we already know all of the doctors and expat staff here at MSF and trust them. So I called Ahmed to let him know I’d be checking in later in the day, and began packing a bag.
Now, the hospitals here–even the amazing ones like MSF–require that you provide all of your own bedding, toiletries, entertainment, and even meals. I packed sheets, my pillow, some clothes, my toothbrush, my Kindle and journal, some snacks, a mosquito net, and bug spray. We decided that Blaise would bring my meals, and the rest of the team offered to take turns coming to MSF to keep me company.
I was laughing and making a lot of jokes, but inside I was quite terrified. I mean, the severity of the infection and the consequences for waiting were no small deal. And how did it get THIS BAD without me even knowing it??? Other than the pain I felt when urinating (sorry for the details) and extreme fatigue, which I blamed on the heat, I felt fine (although when I really started thinking about it, I recalled a few days when I was probably feverish and just didn’t realize it). The other thing that scared me was staying at MSF. I definitely trust the medical team–they’re incredible–but it’s nothing like hospitals in the States. The wards are one big room with a LOT of beds, crying children and coughing adults, and no privacy. I figured that I would end up being a public spectacle. I can’t blame the people, but I know that everyone in the hospital would stream by my bed to watch me–just to see a khawaja sleep, eat, and generally lay around. I also knew that I wouldn’t get much sleep because of the noise and the unfamiliar surroundings. But given the circumstances, it was the best option.
And then God provided a miracle.
Just as I was preparing to leave the house, Ahmed called me back to inform me that he double checked their pharmacy, and they did have enough of the oral antibiotic for me to remain at home while receiving treatment. I still had to go in yesterday afternoon to receive the first dose intravenously, but I could take the rest of the antibiotics at home.
PRAISE THE LORD!
So, Blaise took me back to MSF and held my hand while they injected both hands with the IVs. Ahmed and Donald took AH-MAZ-ING care of me, even taking me all the way back to the staff compound just so we didn’t have half of the hospital watching me receive treatment. They also kept me distracted with jokes and generally entertaining conversation, and no one even laughed at me when I got nauseous, nearly passed out, and had to lay down because of the injections.
It turns out I have a low pain threshold. =)
Anyway, today I am happy to report that the pain is gone, the fatigue is gone, and I got to sleep in my own bed last night! I will go back on Monday for a follow up test, and then next week when we get to Kampala for R&R I will see another doctor for additional tests just to be sure every bit of infection is gone. It was a long, crazy, emotionally taxing day, but I am so thankful that the Lord provided both treatment and a way to get to stay home. I am also so thankful for the MSF staff, who took excellent care of me. And of course, I am thankful for access to top-notch medicines that will have me back to 100% in a few short days.
So, who has two thumbs and loves MSF (and purple band-aids)??? This woman!!!
Praying for you and a speedy recovery!