Darjeeling- a great place to be…in hospital :(

4 Oct

Just when we were finally cooling down and relaxing, just when we thought it couldn’t get worse…

The ever-prevalent Delhi belly strikes and strikes hard.

It happened to me first, while sitting at breakfast a few days ago- intense pain in my gut and an overwhelming need to pee from my butt. Frantically, I ran downstairs from the cafe to use the toilet, but to no avail- they were being worked on. So, next option, run up two flights of stairs to the toilet in the restaurant above the cafe- ahhhhhhhhhhh relief- on some levels. The gnawing feeling in the gut was still there so we went back to the hotel to rest.

I slept most of the day and well into the night with frequent breaks to do my business. It was awful. Then about midnight, I decided to eat a cracker- BIG MISTAKE. The cracker came up, as well as my breakfast, my juice, my water, and anything else that was in my belly. This continue on through the night and when I vomited again, Astrid told me that I was going to see a doctor- I was dehydrated, sunken, weak, listless, and convinced that I was going to die in a third world country.

The doctor came to the hotel at about 8:30 am and convinced me to check myself into the western hospital in Darjeeling to get needed fluids. I couldn’t imagine going through this for another hour so I acquiesced.

The doctor told me that he would send for an ambulance and it would be there by 10:00 am- in my weakened state, I shouldn’t try to walk too much.  I waited, and waited, and waited some more for the ambulance to arrive until about 9:30 when I heard a cacophony in the halls and realized the ambulance must be there.  Into the room burst this very funny man that was all vim and vigor and two women that could not have moved me if they tried.  The man told me that the ambulance didn’t come and we must walk to the hospital… “Walk? To the hospital?” I said.  “Yes, very close.” he said.  So it began that he held me up and we slowly ambulated to the hospital, him greeting his friends and compatriots along the way and the women cautioning me to “Go slow, go slow.”

My next 24 hours were spent in the care of Darjeeling’s finest physician, Dr. P. Das. They pumped me full of antibiotics and fluids- more than I EVER thought I would want or need. And more than I ever want again- DON’T GET SICK IN INDIA. IT SUCKS!

The next morning Astrid comes into the room at about 6:00 am- I’m assuming to check me out, but she looks awful…she is sick too. She takes over my bed as I’m released and then spends the next day and a half in hospital. UGH.

The hospital was built by the British in 1947, and it looked like like it- the ad for the hospital entices you with amenities like “full walls, windows, and working toilets.” What luxury. The bed was a WWII relic that felt like I was lying on a door. That being said we had the best rooms in the place, and the doctor and nurses were VERY accomodating.

Both of us are feeling better now and we will start exploring Darjeeling soon.

Oh, here’s a picture of me in full regalia- IV drip and Pokemon cup. Enjoy.

Anthony in hospital


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