Sick In The Tropics
Three days. I’m still weak. I still feel sick, but better. For 36 hours, I could not eat, and could only take sips of water.
I still have no clue of what I had.
Some thought I had malaria. But I didn’t think so.
You see, I’ve had malaria several times before, and while the symptoms mimicked malaria in some ways — the fever, the nausea, the weakness — there were enough things that were significantly different, such as the lack of the cyclical fevers and the blinding headaches during which the very act of looking to the left or right was peculiarly painful exercise.
And another thing, this sickness did not come slowly like malaria does with me.
No, whatever this was, it came quickly with an uncomfortable rumbling in my stomach at exactly 10:10 pm. I know what time it started because it woke me up. Before then, everything about the day had been good and I had felt just fine.
Here’s something to take note of. When your stomach rumbles and there is no hunger, that’s a clue that something’s wrong.
I lurched out of bed and made it to the restroom. Whatever was in my stomach exploded out and then the remaining contents continued to pour out, albeit less violently, like a stream, nay…
