The Oregon Trail comes to Cameroon

Your wagon got stuck in the mud and Sara came down with Typhoid Fever, rest one week.

This literally was what ran through my head two weeks ago when the doctor came in to my hospital room to break the news that, not only did I have a severe case of malaria, but I had tested positive for typhoid fever. "Isn’t that what people got when you played the Oregon Trail computer game?!" It felt rather surreal to be diagnosed with a disease that seems like such a thing of the past; how can people still be suffering from this?

My Symptoms (for malaria and/or typhoid):

Weekend 1 – fever of around 100°F for 2 days. 

Monday – felt better, stayed home and rested.

Tuesday – went to work, massive headaches, weakness.

Wednesday – stayed home, felt better.

Weekend 2 –Visit a gorilla and chimp conservancy site. Go to a village with a friend. Drink water (from the well), eat food, go hiking, get eaten alive by teeny bugs (not the same as mosquitoes). Harvest plantains. Eat porcupine.

Monday – go to work, get home and shovel down plate of food. Cramping stomach. Start throwing up.

Tuesday – still throwing up. Weak and dizzy. Dehydrated. Go to the hospital.

Thank God for my family. Papa David made the executive decision to take me to the hospital instead of just the pharmacy for treatment. Taking care of me and making all the appropriate decisions while I was slightly delusional was a Godsend.

The medical system is one based completely on your ability to pay. Before I was given any treatment I had to pay cash, each step of the way. If I was to be given a medication infused into my IV, I had to pay before they added it (at 2AM this is pretty frustrating information). Shuttled from room to room, first talking to the nurse, and then the doctor I hazily remember thinking how lucky we are in the states to be given one room to sit in, and the medical professionals then come to us. Before my test results had come back, the doctor recommended that I get an IV for fluids. Despite my trust and confidence in Papa David and knowing that I really should be getting rehydrated I was nervous about the quality of care (i.e. sterilization measures) I would be getting. I insisted on seeing the needles they were to use before agreeing. When they brought everything out for me I was reassured by the familiar sealed plastic casings.

I got set up with an individual room for the night, $12, with a personal bathroom and balcony. The water didn’t always run and the pressure for the toilet couldn’t handle even toilet paper, but at least I didn’t have to move far. The room was bare apart from a single sheet and two tables. Papa had to buy me toilet paper, soap, any other essentials. Healthcare also only covers medicine; Maman had to come every day with my food. In the hospital system the families are in charge of providing food, yet another aspect I would say we Americans/Westerners take for granted.

In total I was given 8 IV bags, stayed two nights and three days, and was finally discharged Thursday evening. I was cared for by several nurses and had the doctor come in and check on me once a day. I also became the prime candidate for intern tutelage as every doctor visit was accompanied by 10 interns crowding into my room and listening intently as I took this sole opportunity with the doc to ask how and why I had malaria and typhoid when I had been both vaccinated and was taking prophylaxis to prevent this from happening. Unsatisfied by the doctor’s response (as he dismissed Western medicine and doctors as not having any idea how to treat diseases in Africa) I had to anxiously wait until I got home to internet to do my own research.

Final consensus: I’m unlucky. The typhoid fever vaccination is only about 85% effective and malarial preventatives are around 90%. The double hit probably caused my body to be weakened and allow both diseases to enter. However, in comparison to the stories I’ve heard from others, the actual manifestation wasn’t as intense. Hence, I hypothesize that the vaccination and prophylaxis helped at least in diminishing the potential full effects of both diseases.

Now, I’m on the mend. Two weeks of additional medication and attentive watch over the possibility of a relapse. I thank God it wasn’t worse, that I have a caring family to help keep me healthy, and that the silver lining was that I learned how [those who have it good] the healthcare system works in Cameroon.