Sick in Dakar

Marc here.

Sylvia is the lucky one so far.  She is the only one of the four of us not to get sick.  I, on the other hand, am the most unlucky , having missed 4 days of work this past week.  Bummer.

As often happens before getting sick, I get run down.  New country, new job and still trying to keep up some reasonable running worked together to leave me so tired I couldn't fight off the bug.  Or, at least not recover quickly from it.  Skylar recovered in a day, Julienne took two.  A week after the initial throwing up, I'm still sitting a lot and moving slowly.

The visit to the Senegalese Dr. was interesting though.  Or, more of visiting a French doctor, since he was white and spook good English with a French accent.

Getting around in Dakar by cab is common and so to allow Julienne to keep working at school, a cab was the obvious choice.  Cabs in Dakar are all black and yellow, usually burn a lot of oil, and if have seat belts they are only for the driver.  Cabbies are also friend and would be chatty if we knew their language.  Cabs are also very easy to find, even on side roads.

We had a cab come to the school to pick me up, drive me about 15 minutes downtown to the clinic, wait outside, drive me back to school, then take me to our house.  I paid the man 10,000 CFAs ($20).  I think it was more then needed but when, part way though the trip, I asked if he had change for 10,000, I think he thought I was telling him that I was going to give him the whole 10,000 bill.  Oh well, it wasn't that much of an overpay and in my drained state, I was happy to have a cabbie I was comfortable with.

Mosque must have just gotten out when I arrived at the clinic since I had to wade through a mob of people dressed nicely in their flowing gowns.  The building felt 1930s colonial and there were very few people around.  I had a card with the Dr's name and eventually decided to show it to the one man sitting behind a desk.  He walked me down to the Dr. who was sitting alone at his desk in his small examining room.  Now that I think about it, there was no computer on his desk and this added to the timeless quality of both the building and of him.

The feeling of solitude and quiet contemplation are in such contrast to any medical journey in the US.  In the US, there are always other people waiting at a Dr's office.  There are always other medical personal around.  Here, it was a large, almost empty building and I appeared to be the only person seeking medical attention. Yet, I was reminded of a friend's experience.

If I remember correctly (which I usually don't), Slash's mom came to the US to visit and wanted to refill an allergy prescription.  In her country, Jordan, you simply go to the pharmacy and get the new drug.  Before she could do that in the US, she was told that she not only needed a Dr's appointment, but it had to be an initial, new patient screening!  She would have had to spend over $400 to simply talk to a Dr. to be able to tell her what prescription she needed.

And so, Senegal is much more like Jordan.  I walked in and the Dr. was immediately available.  We spoke for a few minutes then he did his own lab work on me.  Labs consisted of dipping some litmus paper with about 8 sensory dots into my urine sample, comparing the colors the dots turned to the chart, then saying, "Is ok."

Then, a simple prescription of not working and taking Vit. C, and I would out the door, back to my waiting cabbie, and eventually back home.  A medical trip where the trip to the Dr. took longer then any time at the Dr.  Paying was simply handing the man 30,000 ($60) and out the door I went.

I was glad to have a waiting cabbie.  I walked out and started looking for him.  This simply act of standing in one place and looking around attracted 3 solicitations for cab rides and attracted 3 young boys who were holding buckets, obviously looking for money.

And so, resting as the Dr. said, I feel better now and am glad to not be lying in bed anymore.  Classes start in 2 days, opening ceremonies tomorrow.