Doxycycline Hell: Part 2

“Medicine sometimes snatches away health, sometimes gives it.” -- Ovid

What seems like forever ago, I wrote about an unfortunate incident with Doxycycline. Well, the devil made a comeback. That swollen lip and rash thing from yesterday? Turns out those are side-effects of long-term use of Doxycycline. Joy. Strange, because this just popped up on Saturday. Last Wednesday I was fresh, remember?

I’m not a hypochondriac at all. If I am bleeding profusely, I will go to the ER. Otherwise, I figure whatever it is will pass. Like any internet-loving America, I turned to google for some help with figuring out what was going on. I had a strong feeling that this doxy-devil was the culprit, but I wanted to verify with a doctor that I didn’t have malaria and that my self-diagnosis via the internet was in fact accurate. It was!

I chatted with my roommate’s husband early this morning, and as soon as I mentioned my issues, he noted that it was likely my malaria medication. Aha! A few hours later, my roommate, Millicent, took me to the hospital here in Bechem. She knows everyone in this town, so she pulled some strings and I got in right away. Rather than go to a local physician, like in the states, people often go to a hospital for medical care. Here, men, women, and children wait on benches perched under a wooden pavilion. There were two "exam rooms", which were essentially small offices with doctors sitting at desks. Amidst the benches, a few nurses checked people's blood pressure at a creeky wooden table. While waiting, which was just for a few short minutes, an unconscious man was carried in by a few men and a quiet woman sat next to me and breastfed her baby. Quite an eventful few minutes!

Once I got into the room with the doctor, I explained my symptoms, and he immediately scolded me for having taken doxycycline for so long. 6 months is way too long he said. I trusted the travel clinic doctor at Northwestern! Apparently, I shouldn’t have. Dr. America gave me a prescription for 300-some pills, and I just figured he knew what he was doing. Note to self: do more research next time. I was at this hospital for a total of about 15 minutes. Nothing invasive. No needles. Nothing to totally freak me out. Quick and easy. I left with a prescription for an antihistimine and the advice of the doctor to not take an anti-malarial pill for the rest of my stay here. I’m not so sure about that one…..there is a once-a-week option that a friend of mine gets in a nearby city, so I’ll probably go with that. Paid about 40 cents for 5 benadryl-equivalent pills. Nuts! The taxi ride cost me more than the hospital visit and medication combined.

Hopefully this will be both my first, and last, visit to a hospital in Africa.