My American friends know that I am almost never sick. I’m pretty sure my Ethiopian friends think I am sick all the time, which is fair since I’ve had my share of health issues this trip. The antibiotics have been getting a workout on this trip. I have now tried four of them. Cipro is God’s gift to humankind travelling in the third world. It’s a tossup whether amoxicillin or erythromycin is God’s punishment for a lifetime worth of sins.

The first two antibiotic adventures were the typical ones you get here in Ethiopia. You eat something that doesn’t agree with you, and there goes the GI system for a few days. The first wasn’t so bad – I wouldn’t even have taken anything but Holyad made me take Metronidazole (actually, I’m not sure if that’s an antibiotic – will have to WebMD it one day). The second round was my classic, GI system really empties, I’m confined to bed for a day, and then minimal eating and 10lb weight loss over the next week. Cipro to the rescue!

On to the latest two-part adventure! Last Saturday, I woke up with a sore lymph node in my neck. I was worried that half my face would swell up again like it did in December, making it impossible to talk or eat. I made it through Hash and a Bahai prayer ceremony and dinner, and then came home to bed. When I woke up Sunday morning, swelling was in full swing. Holyad first took me to a clinic near my house. For 50 birr (about the same as a plate of pasta), I had a “doctor” take one look at me, declare that I had mumps, and joke about how you can catch viral infections anywhere here and that my US mumps immunization was meaningless here.

I was sure it was bacterial, not viral, so we went to the hospital next. There, for about 300 birr, I got a full examination including blood workup (mostly useless tests), and despite my telling the doctor I was allergic to penicillin, he prescribed me amoxicillin. I was too miserable, plus had no Internet access at home, to investigate the drug and learn that it is penicillin-based. So I started taking it. On the bright side, the swelling in my face disappeared the next day. An unfortunate side effect was that Monday night, my hands started tingling; Tuesday morning, I awoke to find my fingers replaced by giant, bump-covered sausages. Fingers are not meant to be as swollen as mine were, and it hurt like crazy. I couldn’t hold a pen, much less an airscribe, so it was a rather unproductive day at work. At that point, Holyad took matters into his own hands and got me erythromycin. He’s an epidemiologist and has a special ID that lets him get whatever drugs he asks for at a pharmacy without a prescription. Wednesday was fine, but Thursday I was so nauseous that I spent the day curled in a pile of foam padding at the museum watching about the entire first season of Nashville. Despite starring the incomparable Connie Britton, it’s no Friday Night Lights. That night, I decided I had suffered enough and would take my chances by stopping early (sorry Emily, I know you don’t approve).

Six days later I am still alive. But, three weeks until I head home. What will the next medical adventure be???