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It was a silly day to be sick

2001; Elsevier BV; Volume: 358; Linguagem: Inglês

10.1016/s0140-6736(01)07055-6

1474-547X

Tabitha Mwangi,

Malaria Research and Control

Tabitha Mwangi has a bachelors degree in veterinary medicine (1992) and a masters degree in veterinary epidemiology and economics (1997), both from the University of Nairobi, Kenya. She has worked at the Kenyan Trypanosomiasis Research Institute, and is now doing her PhD at KEMRI, a Wellcome Trust Collaborative Programme in Kilifi. When I first had malaria, the symptoms started while I was waiting my turn for an interview for my first research job 5 years ago. Feeling chilly, I thought that going out into the compound for some sun would make things better. Iwas worried about all the shaking, and could not believe that I was that nervous about the interview. When I started to throw up, a driver was asked to take me to the institute's clinic. A blood slide was done and found to be positive for malaria. I was relieved really to know that my symptoms were those of malaria, since I would have been very embarrassed had all the drama been caused by interview jitters. The people at the lab were thrilled by the numbers of parasites on my slide. They asked if they could take another one to store as an example of what heavily infected blood looked like. The excitement caused by my illness was hard to understand. The interview panel was extremely sympathetic though, and I got the job. The second and only other time that I have had malaria was in May, 2001. I woke up one morning feeling particularly awful. Despite working in a malaria research institute, this time I thought my symptoms were related to depression, and so started doing my self-help exercise of noting down all the good things that had been happening in my life lately. That didn't help, and I seemed to be feeling worse. I started to sweat, and so made for the shower and tried to pick up my mood in time for work. Once at the office, I went straight to the laboratories to have a blood slide done. During the course of my work, I have taken hundreds of slides, and often used to be irritated by people who jumped about in pain. This time I myself reacted to the pain of the lancet pricking my finger. The technician was amused by my response, and I promised myself I'd remember that feeling when next taking slides out in the field. I attempted to do some work while waiting for my results. Eventually, the technician called, my slide was positive and I needed to see the doctor. "How long have you been ill?", asked the doctor."This morning", I replied. "I just woke up and I was sick.""So what do you feel?""Ah, funny, odd, not myself.""Meaning?""I just felt cold in the morning, hot and then cold, a headache, you know… odd.""Hmmm, any vomiting, joint pains?""No.""Mmmmmm."The doctor scribbled something on my hospital notes."Ok, go and get some fansidar (sulfadoxine and pyrimethamine) and paracetamol, and have a day off." Friday was a silly day to be sick. The plans I had made for the weekend were ruined. I got my medicine and went home. I decided to make the most of the extra day at home and spend the weekend catching up on some videos. Pelican Brief had been highly recommended. It's an old film, but this is Kilifi and tapes are recycled among friends until they are worn out. After settling down, I began to feel extremely dizzy and my head started to throb so hard that all I remember watching of the movie was Denzel Washington running about; I have no idea what it was that he was doing. Some of my friends from work came to visit me during their breaks, which was cheering, but I slept terribly that night, while my fever soared. I took a shower late into the night because I thought that it would help me cool off enough to sleep, and had the fan on and off all night depending on my fluctuating temperature. I hardly slept on Friday or Saturday and didn't eat. All I could do was drink water. Sassy, my next door neighbour, kept me well supplied with fruit juices, bless her soul. By Sunday I was feeling so bad that my boss recommended that I try a different drug. Later that day, he brought me some artemether. By the end of the day I was feeling stronger, my head wasn't aching any more, and my appetite had returned. The next week, while walking through the children's ward, I noticed in particular the infants with severe malaria. They weren't at home half-watching videos with throbbing headaches. They had tubes all over their bodies and were fighting for their lives. Some had saliva drooling from their mouths, and some were contorted in unnatural positions. Although I might not have thought so, I had had it easy. These sick little children would be lucky to see tomorrow.