What an experience. It started off like this:
One morning I woke up and immediately was not feeling great. I knew this was our long travel day, so I just decided to buckle up and ride it out. Then we finally get on the road and I start to feel sick. So we pull over and christian has a pic of me dry-heaving/coughing out water! #amazing.
Then, we went to a restaurant and my sickness got worse. We continued driving for another 3 hours on bumpy roads. Once we finally arrive at the new clinic guesthouse in Tamale, it was about 9pm and there was a dead cockroach on the floor next to my bed.
The next morning I was feeling even worse. I started feeling feverish, my thigh muscles and joints started hurting, I was nauseas, lightheaded and extremely week. I couldn't keep food or liquids down and I could feel myself getting worse.
Up north in Tamale, there is a huge Muslim population, and they are in the middle of Ramadan, where they abstain from food (and other things) from sunrise to sunset. It is a really beautiful tradition and I have immense respect for those who practice. It only became slightly problematic when I needed to eat but was unsure of where to get food before sundown...
As the day progressed, Dr. Wanye sent me to the hospital to get a malaria test.
I was taken in a medical jeep, to the nearest hospital, (which was a one story building with maybe 20 rooms in it.) The main triage area, that I assume was the emergency room, was open to the outside with no doors: just an open walkway. The doors to the more permanent rooms were left open and chickens were wandering around the sick patients. I was taken to this hospital by staff of the friends clinic in Tamale, and he found a woman to help me.
I asked this woman if there was a washroom. She asked me if I needed to urinate, or use a toilet and I answered, “throw up.” She laughed at me and then went into another room and came back with a bucket. As I was about to take the bucket from her and go outside to throw up in it, she said “no,” and motioned for me to follow her. I then followed her into another hallway across the waiting room of the hospital, and she opens a storeroom closet door. As I’m preparing to throw up (part 2), she comes out of that room too with the bucket filled with water and then goes into another room with a toilet.
This was when I realized that this was one of those water pressure-flusher toilets. She then proceeded to dump the water in the toilet to flush the previous contents and instructs me to flush after I am finished. I nod my agreement, but then she shows me how I am supposed to flush, and she reaches her hand into the open toilet lid with the plumbing, dips her hand in the water and pulls a lever to flush. She looks me dead in the face and says, “okay?” I was absolutely gobsmacked.
Before I was seen, I had to go through a crazy process of paperwork, which included me going up to a window with ripped chicken wire, where some women ripped off the edge of a piece of blank paper and a pen, and told me to write my name, age and phone number. After I did that, they collected a “registration payment” and continued on what I assumed was registration/paperwork? Maybe there was some triage system, but if there was one, I didn’t witness it. I was led aimlessly to different areas of the “waiting area”? And other smaller rooms to speak with people. Then I ended up at the nurses desk where she took my vitals. She used an axillary thermometer, (that I had witnessed her use on at least 3 patients before me). She took my blood pressure, with no observable sanitation efforts between patients, and told me to sit down. She then began talking with the first woman again, and said something about me being registered the wrong way and that it needed to be fixed. So as I waited there for another 30 minutes they sorted out what they needed to.
After a total of about 90 minutes, I am seen by a physician. The very first thing he says to me when I walk in the room is, “do you want a black man?” I politely told him that now was not the time for me to be looking for a man and we continued our consultation. He wrote down my symptoms in a folder they had created for me, and sent me to the lab for testing. In the lab room, there were 3 individuals. One person (phlebotomist?) who drew my blood, one who looked under the microscope and someone sitting by a centrifuge-looking machine. After the blood draw, another 45 minutes goes by and the woman who was helping me left to go eat I think. After she came back, the test results were suddenly ready and I was sent back to the original physician. I then watch him write: “Malaria test + Positive.” In my notebook. I then asked him if I had malaria and he said “I’m not finished.” Then approximately 10 seconds later says, “you are positive for malaria.” Lol.
I asked him if I was going to die and everyone busted up laughing. They were like "no. you’ve been taking prophylaxis and there is treatment. You will be fine." So I was like okay great, where do I pick up the pills? And he goes, "you need to be admitted for IV inpatient treatment."
I just about lost it.
This was the hospital with minimal sanitation procedures and animals running around. I was absolutely terrified. My group was also leaving in an hour to drive 5 hours away to assist the doctor in tamale with eye surgeries on an outreach, so people wouldn’t be able to stay with me. I decided to leave the hospital and go back to the house where my doctor from unite for sight was. After consulting with him, I decided I wanted to fly down to Accra to gain safer medical treatment for malaria. So, having not eating in 2 days, and having almost no fluids in 24hours, I board a flight, arrive in Accra and am taken to a hospital there. When I first arrived I was so weak I could barely walk, so someone got a wheelchair.
This experience was much different. First, there was tile on the floor, walls and a ceiling. There were also windows! Things were much cleaner. The problem I initially ran into was trying to get my international travel insurance to “pre-authorize” my visit to the hospital. Apparently the way the do it in Ghana, (at least at this hospital) was have you pay a registration + consultation fee which ended up being 217 cedis, or $43 USD.
So I pay the fee and after contacting my parents at home in D.C, had them call the hospital an authorize everything. After that, I was triaged in a pretty routine way and taken to the ER where I stayed overnight. I was giving fluids and I.V anti-malaria, anti-nausea and pain meds. They retested my blood twice and both of these times, malaria came back negative.
???????????
There were numerous debates about whether I had it or not, because I had begun anti-malaria treatment in Tamale before arriving in Accra, and they think it made the parasites untraceable. About half of the professionals I saw during this trip thought I had malaria, and the other half were convinced it was an infection.
So they switched the treatment to antibiotics and diagnosed me with a viral infection and/or pharyngitis. The way they do medicine in the Ghanian ER too, is you tell the nurse or doctor your symptoms, the doctor orders a medication, you/someone else goes to the pharmacy and buys the medication, brings it back to the nurse and she administers it. I was incredibly lucky to have people from my study abroad group stay with me and help me through this, and super grateful I had travel insurance.
I had a rough night. I was suffering rom hot flashes, cold slashes, shivering, sweating, pain, extreme weakness and nausea. The nurse was an angel though, and checked on me every 30mins to an hour and even when I couldn’t voice my needs, she knew I needed something, so she helped me until I felt better. The staff there was supper attentive and helpful. I felt extremely well cared for and that the doctors truly knew which procedures/treatment and medications and diagnoses fit best.
After a full (double round) of anti-malaria treatment and beginnings antibiotics, I started feeling better and requested to be discharged.
I am finishing writing this summary about 2 weeks after being in the hospital and am feeling almost 100% back to normal.
In retrospect, I wouldn't take back this experience for anything. I was able to gain so much insight into the lives of people here and I felt really humbled.
