Thursday evening, 23 o'clock. The light in my room is still lit. The day ended with a beautiful meeting and morale as the form flirting with the tops. I open my journal and began writing. I relish those moments when peace filled the body and spirit.
6:30. The ringing of my phone wakes me. Morale is still time, but I feel a little tired after a short night. 38 ° C: "Damn, I hope I have not chopper something ...."
I still go to the orphanage. At 10 o'clock I'm in the parish, trying somehow to monitor 10 petits qui courent dans tous les sens, se disputent ou réclament de l’eau. La fièvre a dû monter et je suis totalement cassé. Je suis obligé de m’asseoir. Nous rentrons à l’orphelinat et je dis aux mamans qu’il me faut passer à l’hôpital. J’ai oublié mon carnet de santé à la maison, mais tant pis : le plus tôt j’aurai vu le médecin, le plus tôt je serai sur pieds.
La queue est longue à la consultation. La fièvre m’achève et je dors, la tête appuyée sur les genoux. Enfin le médecin me reçoit : il se pourrait bien que ce soit le palu. Une goutte épaisse plus tard, le résultat est confirmed. "TPF 12,000 / uL! I should you be hospitalized away! But you seem to hold up well. You will be able to return home and follow the treatment at home. " I thought "hang on", I am nevertheless glad that Ibrahim accompanies me to go home and buy medicine for me. 24 hours later, back to Ad lucem: nausea kept me from treatment in the stomach and the fever continued to climb despite the wet towels and cold showers. Matthew Ibrahim and lead me to taxi finally - who would have thought - I'm not a superman and finish like everyone else quinine drip in hospital. I will stay three days.
Maybe I should have hidden this episode to my parents, given the concern that I have given them. Living in Cameroon for over a year, I did not think this disease would create such commotion. Even if you can not go look up the flu, it is here part of everyday life. How many times such as student or colleague to whom I note that he looks tired me answer has malaria. Nothing extraordinary about contracting malaria in the region. And not have to panic either: caught in time, it is very treatable. The key is to never leave it lying in a fever saying that one or two tablets of paracetamol will do.
This would be a lie to say that I loved my hospital experience, but from the outset, I have nevertheless taken as an opportunity to continue to explore the lives of my brothers Cameroon. You do not realize in France from the comfort of our hospitals and clinics: the meals are served at home, the sheets are changed daily, the drugs come "all alone » jusqu’au cathéter. Les soins prodigués au Cameroun sont bons (même si pour une opération lourde, je serais plus rassuré en France !), mais aucun de ces « services annexes » ne sont proposés lors de l’hospitalisation. C’est là que la solidarité africaine prend tout son sens.
Seul, le malade ne pourrait pas se débrouiller. Parlons déjà des médicaments. Chaque matin, le médecin fait le tour des patients et leur prescrit le traitement pour la journée. Il leur faut alors faire la queue à la caisse pour payer les différents produits et pouvoir les retirer à la pharmacie de l’hôpital : ici, on paye avant d’être traité. I had a morning to get my medication alone and I can confirm it: not much in the belly for 2 days, it was not a cakewalk. For food, same thing. We are fortunate to Ad lucem there is a canteen where he can buy prepared meals. But quite often this is not the case and we must prepare ourselves. A small kitchen (= traditional wood fire) is then available for it. But anyway, still the problem of having to move in search of food when your legs are difficult (and I'm not talking about people who are seriously sick!).
In Cameroon - and certainly it would generalize to Africa - the patient became dependent, must count on the solidarity of his family and friends. Thus Nadège was my patient care during these three days of hospitalization. She was there to buy my medication, to get ready to eat, bring me water to keep me company. Admittedly, I offered a small gift to thank her for being so occupied me, but the principle of solidarity with the "family" she has done that. But did
Nadège pas été la seule à être avec moi durant ce séjour à Ad Lucem. La nouvelle de mon palu a vite fait le tour de l’IST-AC, et c'est avec beaucoup de plaisir que j’ai vu l’un m’appeler pour prendre de mes nouvelles ou l’autre me visiter à l’hôpital. Comme pour les deuils, les naissances ou les mariages, le « on est ensemble », est là pour vous accompagner chaque instant de la vie.
Cet article est donc également une manière de vous remercier, vous qui, au Cameroun ou depuis la France, étiez avec moi, par une visite, un coup de fil, un e-mail. Un grand merci !
