Revenge!

Montezuma

It has been a most interesting and eventful night. People do things differently across the world--and have different ideas about health and how to enhance it. Last night I was driven lickety-split to Miraflores, Lima, about 40 km away. I had tremendous pain in my abdomen that could not be relieved. Yes, my bowel has been a scene of rapid transit for several days, but I just chalked that up to traveling. Never have I had such an experience in traveling that was this bad. My host consulted with a doctor and gave me a medication that is used here and in Europe (but not the U.S.) called Floratin. It is live yeast bacteria used to combat traveler's diarrhea and that of people with HIV-AIDS. The idea of ingesting live bacteria didn't do much for me, but I thought that perhaps my provincial ideas of medicine need to be expanded.

Problem was, in about two hours I was in terrible pain.

After five hours of pain, I tried calling the campus medical offices that were listed on the back of the guestroom door. Unbeknownst to me, I was calling Peru 9-1-1. They kept asking me why I was calling Central America, and couldn't understand a word I said. That obviously wasn't going to get me any help. No dean was in sight, no student, no security officer. If I wanted to get help I would have to walk about a mile down to the front gate of the university. Then I would have to try to make myself understood. I started toward the door, but they were dead bolted and I couldn't get out of the building. My belly was in great pain and I was beginning to get hot and cold.

Thank goodness for a husband who can speak Spanish! I called Sam and asked him to call back to the campus and explain to them that I need a doctor. A few minutes later the security officer was outside the door and a student was stumbling down the stairs with a key to let him in. There I stood, clutching my abdomen, my shoulders hunched forward protectively. Up the stairs raced Joel(pronounced "Ho-El") and his wife who got me into their car. Off we flew.

A grim, humorless physician waited at the door, along with two energetic and very sweet nurses. I went right into a room while Joel registered me. There is very little privacy in many hospitals outside the U.S. Joel called to me across the waiting room, asking me my birthdate and address information. I sang it out for the wondering people in the waiting area. No HIPAA requirements here! Joel and his wife then came in and stood over me as the doctor unbuttoned my dress and began palpating my belly. He acted as if my presence bored him to tears.

He told me curtly that I have colitis and a very sensitive bowel. He ordered IV anti-inflammatory medications along with Ranitidine--something to help my bowel. He stepped out just as I heard a commotion right next to my head. Apparently that was where the hospital code cart was, and it was being whisked into an adjacent room. I heard someone get intubated and then shocked with defibrilator paddles. Then a drunk woman burst through the curtain next to my bed, shouting a man's name. The shouting turned to wailing as she was notified of the man's death.

The whole scene was visible to Joel and his wife, who stood open-mouthed at in the doorway, watching the entire resussitation effort.I'm sure the folk in the lobby were also privy to this scene. I was eventually moved down the hall into a room. The medication almost immediately relieved my distress and I fell asleep quickly.

Now I am back in my guest room, dozing off and on and feeling much better. It still feels like my belly has a war going on in it, but it's probably due to the three liters of vile, metalic-tasting electrolyte liquid I'm required to drink today. My diet will now consist of rice and maybe a cooked vegetable. Perhaps a slice of bread if I want real excitement. But no fruit (no more mangoes!), dairy, or uncooked food while I'm here.

Overall, this has been a real adventure and I might have enjoyed it had I not been in such extreme pain. I'm grateful that I'm okay. I'm thankful that Sam speaks Spanish and that I brought along an international telephone, or else I could still be writhing about in my guest room.

Doctors, nurses, and patients seem to be the same the world over. Life comes and goes in the Emergency Department. And Montezuma claims victory once again.