Sick!

We were set to leave the next morning to head to Mexico City for a few days. The plan was to see Xochimilco (a series of water canals with boats you can rent...it's filled with floating flowers and the vendors go around by boat to sell food, music and misc. items), Six Flags amusement park, a few museums and to see our friends Polo and Roberto whom we'd met in San Cristobal.

I woke up about 5 am not feeling well, but figured it would pass. We went ahead and took our bus at 9 am and I was able to sleep a bit on the bus. We pulled into the bus station in Mexico City (DF) in the afternoon and headed for the Metro. Having already braved the Metro once, I felt confident I could do it again. I was still not feeling well, and felt feverish and really tired. We weren't sure which direction to go on the Metro, but didn't want to look lost, so I confidently moved ahead and bought our ticket...4 pesos to go anywhere in DF!!

I was looking at the map of the Metro when a young woman walked by with dreadlocks and looked obviously like a traveler...but she looked like a traveler familiar with the Metro. We asked if she knew which direction to head to get to the Zocola and it turned out she was heading there too. She was with an older couple that I took to be her parents. We all set off in the direction we needed to go and got on the Metro...we had to switch cars a few times and I think this was too much for the older couple because she explained they were going to go get a taxi for the remainder of the trip.

We got off the Metro and came up to fresh air (can you really call DF air fresh...DF being the smoggiest city in the world??). We got our bearings and started heading toward our youth hostel, the Hostal Moneda. I was feeling worse by the minute and was wanting nothing more than to collapse on a bed and rest. We only had about 2 blocks to go, but it seemed like a terribly long way. We ended up sitting on the sidewalk for a few minutes. We got to our hostel and had to wait in line for a few minutes while people checked in and out. We ended up getting the last single room (where we didn't have to share with other people), for which I was glad.

We ended up with a room on the 4th floor. I thought I would pass out climbing the stairs. Some guy noticed I was struggling and ended up carrying my backpack the rest of the way for me. We got in the room and I sunk down on the bed and went to sleep. My head was killing me, my eyes were killing me, my body was hurting, I was nauseaus and I could tell I had a fever. A little later I could hear people upstairs from us on the roof...the hostel provides both breakfast and dinner (all this for $10 per night!!) and people were upstairs eating. Sierra was too shy to go by herself so I ended up going with her. The view from the roof is spectacular of the Zocolo and the church, but I was not up to enjoying it. I didn't want to eat, so I just waited while Sierra grabbed something.

I was obviously not feeling well, yet no one asked if I was okay. This is a phenomenon I experienced a lot in Mexico...the seeming lack of care from one tourist to another (remember those Italians??). I was going downhill and was having trouble even sitting with Sierra. After she finished eating, the cook and kitchen helper asked if I was okay...I explained to them I wasn't feeling well. The man, Ricardo, espoused the glories of limes and made me some lime water. He reminded of the Dad in that movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"...the one who thinks Windex is the cure for any ill. The cook, Marie, got me some sort of pain medication to take with the lime water. They were very kind and concerned for me and urged me to send Sierra to get them if I needed anything.

We went back to the room and went to bed. I took my temperature and it was a bit over 103, yet I was freezing. My eyes hurt so bad that I couldn't open them, everything was out of focus and it hurt to close them. I had an intense headache as well as general pain all over my body. I figured I had the flu and it would pass. We fell asleep and I woke up a few hours later sopping wet...I took this as a good sign that my fever had broken.

Throughout the night, this happened several times....my fever would spike, and then break, spike and then break. It never fell below about 100. I spent the next day in bed and continued to feel worse and worse. Sierra was able to wander about the hostel and use the internet. There was a family there with a baby and a little girl who she was able to play with as well. There were some hammocks she relaxed in with a book. The staff all kept an eye on her and there is a 24 hour guard at the front door who also kept an eye on her.

As the day turned to evening I was feeling even worse. I asked Sierra to get the staff and inquire about going to a doctor. One of the staff guys came up and explained a doctor could come see me, but it would cost $400 pesos. He suggested having the ambulance come and they could either treat me and leave, or take me to the hospital if need be.

About a half hour later a paramedic came into the room and looked me over. Soon, another paramedic was there. Eventually, there were 3 or 4. They wanted to bring the fever down and began packing me in ice. There were several phone calls made and they were coming in and out of my room. They came in and told me they were taking me to the hospital.

I was worried about Sierra...I didn't know what would happen to her. The cook Marie said she would stay with her at the hostel, or she could take her home - whatever I wanted. The helper Ricardo came in with more hot lime water and tried to get me to drink it. Sierra started to cry and said she didn't want to stay, and didn't know what to do. The paramedics tried to comfort her and kept saying "don't cry...no problem". They said she could come with me.

They took me downstairs in a wheelchair, which was terrifying! At the bottom, they put me on a gurney and wheeled me out to the ambulance...other residents of the hostel were looking on and the streets were crowded with people. There ended up being 3 ambulances! They loaded me up and Sierra got in as well. She was quite upset, and the paramedic had the good sense to start asking her for help to get her mind off of what was going on.

About 25 minutes later we got to the Emergency Room. The paramedics had told me that I should be released after about 3 hours and didn't think I'd be held overnight.

In the ER they started asking me lots of questions and checking me over. They took blood & uring samples and put in an IV. Sierra called my family to let them know what was going on and kept answering every question they asked me. After a few hours, they told me they would be admitting me for the night and put me in a room.

For me, one of the most amazing things I had come across yet was about to happen. They said Sierra could stay with me, in the hospital! There was a bed available for her and she would be in my room. We got up to my room and there was a futom couch-bed there for Sierra. I couldn't help but think that if we had been in the same situation in the States that she would have ended up in Foster Care while I was in the hospital. I was so thankful to have her there with me.

Over the next several days, I continued to feel very sick. I was really out of it. Sierra watched a lot of tv and left occasionally to go hit the vending machine for gummies. She was perfect, absolutely perfect...the entire time she sat in the room with me and helped me out and communicated with the nurses and doctors in Spanish. I wasn't eating, so I gave her my food. We were amazed by how good the food was!!

The doctors still didn't know what was wrong with me. They were taking blood at every turn for more tests, but yet the symptoms remained. The medicine they put in the IV burned unbelievably as it entered my veins, and only took the edge off for about 1-2 hours. It was supposed to last for 6-8. I begged for more medicine all the time just to be out of pain. My eyes hurt, so I couldn't watch tv...I basically looked at my hands most of the time!

My doctor, Laura Jauregui Camargo said I had a virus, and felt it was probably Dengue Fever, something you get from day biting mosquitos. She thought I probably got it when I was in Veracruz or Chiapas. However, they wouldn't have the results of that test for another week. In the meantime, they also were concerned I might have Meningitis. They wanted to give me a spinal tap and CT scan. I'd already had chest x-rays and abdomenal sonogram. Until they ruled out Meningitis, they could not give me sufficient medication to make the pain go away as they had to monitor my symptoms and pain level.

At this, I began to get very fearful. I was trying to push fear out of my mind, but I couldn't help but wonder if I didn't have some sort of brain tumor. There is a country song I love about a man who finds out he has only a short time left to live and how he makes the most of this time and tells his friend that everyone should have the opportunity to live like they were dying. It goes like this..

I was in my early 40's
with a lot of life before me
when some news came in that stopped me on a dime.

I spent most of the next days
looking at the x-rays
talking 'bout the options and thinking 'bout sweet time

I asked him what a fellow does when he's faced with news like this
and he said...

I finally read the good book and I took a good, long, hard look
at what I'd do if I could do it all again, and then here's what I did

I went sky diving
I went rocky mounting climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Blue Banshu

And I loved deeper
and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying

And he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying

And tomorrow was a gift
and you had eterntity
to think about what to do with it
what would you do with it?
what did I do with it?

I was feeling overcome with emotion and fear. I wonderd if I were truly dying, was I doing the thing that made me feel like I was living? Was being in Mexico what I wanted most? I prayed for answers. I felt as though I was doing what I wanted to live life fully and with purpose, but was doubting myself...what if I am only being selfish?

I wasn't hearing from my family and I was heartbroken. Then I received a call from a man named Bill...he is friends with my family and has a house next to their house in Baja. He lives in Mexico full-time and is familiar with the customs, including the phone systems. He was able to get through to call and relay messages from my parents, who weren't able to get through. It was such a blessing to hear a friendly and encouraging voice. He told me not to give in to fear and to keep thinking positive. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

Soon my parents were able to get through and my mom prayed with me and sang with me...singing was a balm for my heart and lifted my spirits. I remembered that God was with me, and it would all be okay. He was in control. I felt much better.

After this, I heard more regularly from friends and family. Bill continued to call regularly and his wife offered to come to DF to be with us. My parents and sister called. I heard from some local Rotarians who had heard about my situation and wanted to help. They were looking for a place for us to stay after we left the hospital. Our friend Roberto, who we'd met in San Cristobal, called regularly and came to visit. I was feeling encouraged and the fear was going away.

They ended up doing the spinal tap while I was under anesthesia...this was fortunate because I didn't feel a thing!! The spinal tap came back negative...I didn't have Meningitis. The CT scan, the chest x-rays, the sonogram and the blood tests...all negative. They didn't know what was wrong. They were still going with the idea that it was probably Dengue.

The thing with Dengue, and really any virus, is that there is no "cure" for it. All they can do is keep you comfortable until you start to feel better. Unless, of course, they think you might have some other serious condition and can't keep you comfortable because they have to monitor you!!
After a week, I was starting to feel better. I hadn't eaten for most of this time. Due to this and the toll the illness took, I was very weak. It was difficult to walk, to wash myself, to sit up. The doctor wanted me to eat and try to walk as much as possible to begin to gain my strength back. She said it would be 2-4 weeks before I felt totally back to myself. I began to walk about a bit.

That night as they were checking me over they noted that my heartbeat had dropped down to 40 beats per minute. They wanted to keep me on an EKG machine for 24 hours to monitor it. They did so, and I was set to be discharged the next day.

I wasn't able to get in contact with the lady who was going to let us stay at her place, so we ended up returning to the hostel. My doctor wanted me to stay in DF for a few days to rest before we left and headed up to Guadalajara.

The staff at the hostel welcomed us warmly. Marie and Ricardo were happy to see us and told us how worried they'd been about us. Marie said she would have kept Sierra for the whole time if she needed to. They were all so gracious and helpful over the next few days while I continued to rest and checked in on us often to see if there was anything we needed. It was really a blessing.

After a few days, I felt up to taking the bus to Guadalajara so we headed off. We were going to stay in Guadalajara overnight and then head to our final destination...Tepatitlan.