House Call

If you happen to get sick in the middle of Africa, it’s good to be miserable within 50 meters of the finest private hospital in Uganda.

BCH sign

Felt some chills which were followed by a nice fever on Sunday night. I excused myself from a dinner engagement and headed to bed. Monday dawned with a warm forehead and general misery. The guest house manager summoned a doctor who, hang on to your hat, made a house call.

She took vitals, asked questions, then lowered the boom. “We need to test you for malaria.”

I had all the hallmarks: fever, lethargy, loss of appetite. I’m all for an authentic African experience but isn’t that taking it a bit too far?

Got to see the hospital workings up close and personal and was relieved when blood smear came back NEGATIVE.

So a bit of a setback as I’ve been shuffling around like an octogenarian with an appetite of a six-year-old.

But I feel better today. My head is clear. I have some video editing to do. The mosquitoes can wait.