Search results for 'dengue'

>Lesson D for Dengue a la Guadeloupe

21 Apr


As I type this I slaughter mosquitoes with one free hand using the mightiest of mosquito killers, the deadly red as I call it. It is an easy find here – see if I ever type that combination of words again – for just €9.99 in your local hardware store. Deadly red is a mini tennis racket in plastic and aluminum; rechargeable for your mosquito killing pleasure. Ours is red. I chose it as I felt it an appropriately aggressive color for the war against the mosquitoes.
Why so much talk of such tiny itch-creating things? One word: Dengue. Yeah, I caught Dengue fever. Don’t know what it is? Here’s a link to an extensive explanation by the CDC but I’ll summarize:
Fever of 101F for four days, bones aching like the muscles are being pulled from them inside your body, achy joints, boiling hot one moment and shivering the next and sweating the entire time as if you are in a sweat lodge, zero appetite, a bit of nausea, dizziness, inability to move further than sofa and/or bed, total and complete discomfort of the most indescribable sort.

…and I had it EASY, from what I understand. I also understand that you can go through this a few times as there are a few different strains. Excellent news.

The upside? Nobody gives you any question once you’ve come down with Dengue. People offer support. It’s no joke. Also, I lost those last seven pounds and as a consequence have a new-ish wardrobe on account of all the clothes I couldn’t wear for the past ten months because I ate too many bokits and took a few too many aperos. Hey, I’m human. I figure if I chase the kids while they skateboard in the evenings perhaps I can even keep it off.

Ah…Guadeloupe… so much to offer, so much to teach me. I think people should get a special stamp in their passports after handling Dengue, you know, kind of like a Girl Scout badge. Bring it on, Gwada, bring. it. ON!


Lesson W for worms

15 Jun

Disgusting. Alien. Frightened. Host-like. Not at all hungry.

A few bits to describe how I feel knowing this: I have worms.

Let’s leave out the information on how it is one realizes one has worms and carry on to the disgusting rest of it. In spite of my temper tantrum/flat-out panic, “Omygodomygodomygod..I’m like an ALIEN! I wanna go to the hospital. What do I do? Omygodomygod!” Pirate looks at me, muffling hysterical laughter at the fragile un-tropicalized American suburban girl, “Mais, tu fais une crise pour rien..”

A crisis. Yes. I consider this a crisis, for I have worms and I am neither a domesticated nor a farm animal. Et merde. As if D for Dengue  wasn’t enough to get me to turn my cart around and hop the next flight back to the safety of better-known-to me ailments in suburbia, (common cold, flu, bronchitis, poison ivy perhaps) this might just be my breaking point. Dramatic I know but seriously, worms? It’s a parasite for heaven’s sake. I, Girl in Guadeloupe, am a parasitic host. How’s that for hospitality? Can’t say I haven’t become one with the local culture now, can we? I’m literally connected to it, or it is connected to me, or whatever, I’m making myself nauseous again.
Solution to most things, a la pharmacie. Pharmacist doesn’t even bat an eye or commiserate with me even a tiny bit. I had that brief tv-like moment where I imagined the reception I would get: “Mais Madame, quelle horreur! Les vers! Tsktsktsk, asseyez-vous, asseyez-vous, mon dieu, mon dieu…”

Yeah, not so much. Medicine in the bag, two in the morning two in the evening, bla bla bla, and here I sit sharing the wonder of worms with who knows who.  I feel better already.*Apparently this is really very common here, and kids get them all the time. Petit Monstre had them last year and I admit it, I was afraid to touch him. Poor little host. Well, we can bond on that topic, right? Bleuchhhhh

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