Coming Home

As I am sure you can imagine, hospitals in the third world are not like hospitals in the U.S. And if you have ever even had a head cold, and are anything like me, being sick makes you a little emotional and wanting for your family and close friends. Spending two days in a Ugandan hospital, being very sick, without my family or close friends was a testing experience. I have been very lucky that my country director Cami took very good care of me, she was supportive, comforting, and demanded that the nurses and doctors give me the best care possible.

Unfortunately malaria causes persistent vomiting which lasted about 36 hours before I was admitted to the hospital. Because of this, I was very dehydrated when I arrived. I tend to be a hard stick when I am healthy, so getting an IV in me while I am sick is always a challenge, but one I am used to and usually face with strength. Sunday, when they were poking me and moving the needle around trying to find my stubborn veins I was not strong, I completely fell apart. I was shaking from the pain and anxiety, and I cried, I cried hard. I cannot think of a time where I have wanted to be home more in my life. I was scared, yet I felt trapped by the situation, my illness giving me no other option but to stay right where I was. When I called my parents I tried to pull myself together and not let them know how scared and sad I was, but hearing the helplessness and fear in their voices made it even harder for me to keep it together. I have three very helpful, supportive, and loving parents, and it was hard not to be able to have them with me.

When they finally got the IV in, I calmed down a little, at least I knew I had a way to start getting better. I was receiving fluids, my anti-malaria injections, and some antibiotics for a secondary infection I have. Later Sunday evening my temperature started to climb very high and my head was pounding. I still was unable to keep even water down and the vomiting was becoming increasingly painful with each heave. The anxiety began to creep up again, I could feel myself sinking into depression, and once again I began to cry. Cami tried to calm me and let me know that I would get through this. My crying had stopped, but my insides still felt the same.

On Monday I had hoped to get out, but I was not improving the way the doctors wanted to see. Cami had to leave for a while to eat and go to some meetings. While alone I cried and cried, I could not stop myself. I called both my parents and felt no peace after talking to them, only more homesick. I then called my boyfriend, hoping that would help calm me down. He was so sad that he could not help me and extremely worried. After those three conversations I was even more depressed; not only was I lonely and sick but my situation was hurting the people that I care about the most. That is where the internal battle began: do I finish out my stay in Africa or do I go home early? I knew that everyone would support me in whichever decision I made, but that did not make it any easier. I began going back and forth, weighing out the pros and the cons, making a mental list, and trying to make a logical decision. I did this for hours, back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly I realized that I could not base this decision on logic, and I could not do what I thought was best for everyone else. This decision was about me and my health. Each time I would start arguing with myself as to why I should stay in Africa I would become very anxious and more nauseated, and each time I cried. On the other hand when I would argue to go home I would feel at peace. It became very obvious to me that I needed to go home and get myself better, physically and emotionally.

Don’t get me wrong, just because the decision was obvious does not by any means mean I was easy. I have loved my time in Uganda and so enjoyed getting to be a part of something so much bigger than myself. I am so grateful for the opportunity I have had to come here and I hope that someday I am able to return to Africa and help even more. But being depressed was making it harder for my body to fight off the malaria and the infection and being here sick is useless to everyone. Immediately after getting my flight scheduled to come home (thanks mom and dad for the help!) I could feel myself relax a little. Since then I have progressively been feeling better and was even discharged from the hospital today. I hate that I feel selfish for what I am doing, but I know in my heart that it is the right thing for me to do. I am coming home and I think it is time. I wish things had been different, but things don’t always go according to plan. I am trying to adapt and learn from every experience, even the bad ones.

I still love you, Uganda.