I've been in Haiti since the beginning of September so I'm beginning my fourth month. The first cultural shock period, after about three months, has come and gone, I no longer get burnt in the sun, I've become complacent eating rice for two meals a day, and sweat no longer pours off of me beginning at 8am and on a daily basis; granted, it is currently the beginning of the dry season.
However, in these past 3.25 months I have accumulated quite the list of rather curious health-related issues. If you're reading this and know me quite well, you know that health is one of my favorite past times. Even to the point that sometimes I believe I've convinced myself that I actually could apply to Medecins sans Frontiers and they would wonder where I had been for the past ten years, why I hadn't applied earlier given my unprecedented wealth of medical knowledge and cunning skill to diagnose illnesses in impoverished children. Yes, that could happen.
In the meantime, what I have held so dear and spent so many listless hours studying and researching, has been quite challenged being in Haiti. Odd things, things I used to Google Image or have disgusting conversations about with fascinating preschoolers who have no social filter, I have somehow acquired here in Haiti. For example (and in chronological order):
1) Bit by a child in my class the first day of school. Terrified I had contracted AIDS or Hepatitis, immediately Skyped my physician in the US. Actually, she was at more risk than I was. I believe the scar has faded.
2) Destroyed a muscle in my shoulder attempting to do yoga at 6am before work. Luckily that injury had a positive effect and ruled out morning yoga from there on out. And sometimes even evening yoga, heaven!
3) Hypothetical cotton lodged in my ear canal from a q-tip. It came out with no cotton, but no cotton was ever found. Even after going into 'town' to see the eye doctor. Yes, the eye doctor, the only doctor on St Marc with the instrument to see into my ear. Is the cotton still there? Reason one of twenty I've scheduled an appointment with my doctor in C'ville. I don't think 15 minutes will be enough...
4) Fever? No. Thermometer under the arm, Vitamin C.
5) Fever? No. Thermometer under the arm, Vitamin C. Becomes a serious hacking spell that I carry up the mountain with me to Jacmel where I end up on a horse in the rain. Invest well-spent money in my own care which consists of American cough syrups, French cough syrups and a local honey concoction from a pharmacist in Port-au-Prince; which I think helped the most.
6) Mucous goes from chest back up to sinuses.
7) Mosquito bite? Nope, ringworm. School nurse gives me a salve for eczema. I promptly hop on a bus to St Marc to get my own cream.
8) Still full of mucous, dry season approaching, more dust, more irritation.
9) and 9, culmination, pink eye. First one eye, then two. Back to the eye doctor, he literally is taken aback by the redness of my eyes, diagnoses viral pink eye and sends me home with eye drops for the redness and antibiotic eye drops also lets me take off work for a week! He says days at first, I say I'd like the week, he says okay, I try to bargain with him to go home early for Christmas, he is malleable but not spineless; good doctor.
So, here I am, ample time to blog, perhaps looking into the face of my own insanity sitting up here for five days alone, but that's yet to determine. I did sneak down to the classroom today for scissors to attempt to chop up some reindeer antlers for my class for their Christmas performance while they were out at the library. I saw them from afar going back to the class and we waved and yelled at each other across the campus. Poor little elves. I hope they don't think I've abandoned them to the trenches of Haitian education...That's for later. For now, I have to blow my nose and administer eye drops.
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