Day 10: Goin to the Hospital!!

At some point in the night, the pain tore into my side. It started as a stab -- like a cramp from not breathing properly -- and before too long escalated to nothing I’ve ever experienced. In addition to that, I began throwing up everything I had eaten at dinner. Assuming it was something I ate, I expected the pain to subside and to be able to sleep. No such luck. The entire night, I kept Kimmie awake with my pacing, tossing and turning, vomiting (lucky her!), and groaning. I had NEVER been in such pain. Thinking (hoping?) I just had a BAD case of gas, I took some gas medicine...I might have just taken a baking soda tablet with all the help it gave me. By dawn, I had nothing left on my stomach to vomit, I was exhausted, sweaty, and still writhing with pain. The team left me to attend their workshop while I stayed in bed, hoping to get better before lunch. Just in case, Sandy left her cell phone with me so that I could call Bosco to come get me when I was ready.

By 11, the pain had crept around to my back, and I couldn’t walk without feeling like my intestines were going to spill out of my stomach. I called Bosco in tears and asked for Sandy. “I think I need to go to the hospital. I can’t stop throwing up and my side hurts!” Within minutes, Bosco and Lucy were at the hotel to take me to the hospital.

This is where the adventure BEGINS! The Gulu Independent Hospital is the best facility in the town. The structure is typical concrete block with ancient paint and red-dirt yard. The inside smells like day-old B.O. baked into the brick. Acholis (Gulu residents) crowded the benches lining the walls and stared quite obviously at the pitiful looking Muzungu shuffling in.

After registering, I plopped down on the bench nearest my butt and tried not to let the smell overwhelm me. After puking for 12 hours, smells were the LAST thing I needed to keep my stomach in tact. But, somehow I concentrated on the cracks in the floor and survived the excruciating minutes until the doctor could see me. His office was a small room with an examining table that had an old bed-sheet for a cover. As I laid down for him to examine me, I wondered how long it had been since the sheet had been washed, how many sick bodies had lain exactly where I was, and what strange illnesses I was coming into contact with. I had to stop thinking such thoughts or I’d never make it out alive. The doctor ordered labs and an ultrasound of my abdomen, so I trekked over to the lab -- holding my stomach to keep everything inside -- and got stuck. Apparently, I have no blood in my left arm because every time I’ve been stuck the past several days (yes, I’ve been stuck more than once!), nobody could get anything out. But, the tech did get a sample and the results determined that I had a white blood cell count of 18.8 -- VERY high... So, there was infection in my blood. Greeaaat! I moved over to the ultrasound lab--everything was in three different buildings--and THAT guy found my bladder looked abnormal. He said that my appendix and bladder was inflamed. Much to my horror, the doctor decided that I needed to stay the night to get intravenous fluids, antibiotics, and pain meds. Curled up on a hospital bed with another old, well-used bed sheet, I got the news that I wasn’t going anywhere for a couple days. I was terribly dehydrated and at risk of rupturing my appendix. At this point with the hope of no pain, I was game for whatever I needed to do. So, the doctor stuck the pick-line in my hand, the nurses prepared a private room for me, and I called Sandy to update. While we waited, Lucy held my hand and prayed with me. She assured me that I would be okay and that God had everything under control. I teared up at her gentle words. They were just what I needed; yet, I missed home terribly and I wanted nothing more than to have my mother there with me.

My room was just off the main corridor. It was rather large with two ancient beds with 3 inch mattresses and (you GUESSED IT!) well used bed sheets. These seemed clean at least. And the mattresses were vinyl, so maybe nastiness didn’t sweat into them too much. There was a small oscillating fan mounted on the wall and that helped TREMENDOUSLY with the sweltering heat. One bare bulb hung from the ceiling. In the corner was a sink basin sans towels or soap, and a small bathroom around the corner. My room was ground level with a house and children playing right outside my window.

When I got into the room, the nurse hung my first bag of fluids. She put the pain meds in my bag and gave me another shot directly in my vein. It lessened the pain for about 45 minutes, and then I was crying for some relief. Lucy, who had been curled up on the other bed, went in search of the nurse who came in, stroked my leg, and tried to comfort me. She told me that she couldn’t give me another dose for four more hours. I was devastated. So, she came back a few minutes later with a dose of something she had to shoot in my rear end. Gladly, I bared it. It lessened the pain for about two hours, but again, I was back to begging for some relief. By that time, the team had finished with their day of teaching, so Bosco went to pick them up and brought them straight over. Seeing their faces brought such relief, and I know I looked like death warmed over between the pain and the sweltering heat (but I wasn’t sweating anymore... hmm?), but I didn’t care that I had frizzy hair and a stinky body. I was so happy to see familiar faces!

Kimmie came in, gave me a hug and told me that she wasn’t going anywhere this evening. She was staying with me. And I’m SO glad she did! After a few minutes visit, Sandy (who had written down what we wanted her to bring back from our room), Kristoff, Bosco, Patrick, and Lucy all left to get the items, eat dinner, and then pass out the school supplies to the kids. They returned around 9 pm when I had slept for a while and gotten more pain meds in my system. I was feeling MUCH better... but I didn’t look or smell any better. Oh well.

Kimmie and I stayed up and talked for a while after everyone left again. At times, I drifted off to sleep, and she read. Once a male nurse came in to check on me, and without stopping to put on gloves or wash his hands, he started fiddling with my pick line (which I had been bleeding from). Then he rinsed his hands in the sink (with questionable water), wiped them on his pants, and proceeded to help himself to Kimmie’s bag of cashews. The look on her face was a mix of horror and malice. What in the world was he doing? She didn’t eat another cashew that night. In fact, they made their way into Kristoff’s hands the next day, and he donated them to the goats along the road back to Kampala.

At midnight, my nurse came in and gave me a shot that burned like fire going in, and eventually spread the warmth to my fingers and toes, my stomach and head. Within minutes, I was floating on a cloud. It scared me a little to be so out of sorts, but at the same time my pain was gone for the first time all day. I slept for three hours solid.

When I woke up, Kimmie was nestled in the bed where our *good* nurse had made the bed with clean sheets. I drifted in and out of sleep for the next four hours. Sometimes Kimmie was awake, and sometimes she was asleep, but it was always a comfort to see her there beside me. It would have made for one lonely night without her.