We checked in to the Hotel Lewi at around 5:30 pm in Awassa and I promptly went to bed. The room was hot with no air conditioning, but this was Malaria and Yellow Fever country and we didn't want to let any mosquitos in (the windows didn't have screens). Leigh got up at 7 pm and had dinner with some of the other couples and I stayed in bed. He came back to the room, we watched a really bad movie and went to sleep under a mosquito net at around 9:30 pm. I had ear plugs in because there was a club next door with lots of activity given it was a Saturday night.
At 12:30 am, I heard Leigh get up and go to the bathroom (despite having the earplugs in). I asked him if he was okay, no answer. I heard him moaning, and I got out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door, "Leigh are you okay?" No answer. I open the door and he's on the toilet, very pale, and says, "I don't feel good."
"What's the matter?"
"I don't know, I don't feel good."
"Does something hurt you?"
"Just leave me alone. Give me a minute, will you?"
I close the door and stand outside.
And then, whack. I hear him hit the floor.
I open the door, and what I saw is still burned in my memory. My husband, pale on the floor -which he hit face first - with a bleeding mouth, eyes open and totally unresponsive. I start shaking him "Leigh are you alright? Leigh wake up!" Nothing. I try to turn him over so I can start CPR on him, but he's too big, I can't move him. I pick up the phone and dial the front desk and say "I need an ambulance, my husband collapsed." As I am talking to the them Leigh starts to move.
The desk staff says "No ambulance, I'm coming up." I say, "I don't need you, I need an ambulance, I need a doctor." Desk staff, "There's no ambulance, no doctor, I'm coming up." I hang up.
Leigh, in the meantime has tried to stand up and has collapsed again, this time on his rear, and still conscious. He's very confused. I yell at him not to get up. He says "I want to go to bed." I yell at him he must crawl, he can't fall again. He crawls to the bed. He is very hot and sweaty and pale. I try to feel his pulse but can't feel it. I give him an antibiotic we had with us, tylenol and make him start drinking water.
By now the desk staff comes and asks how to help. I say to get one of the other guys on the trip who is an internist/hospitalist. Unfortunately, all the hotel rooms with our people were listed under the adoption agency name, so he had to knock on lots of doors before he found them. We also had a nurse on the trip and both came and stepped into action. We rubbed him down with cool towels, put cold packs (that I had brought) under his neck and arms and made him drink, drink, drink. Finally we got a thready pulse and he became less confused.
He had a big bump on his head, a red eye (he fell on his head, eye) and a cut tongue from biting it when he fell. Once things settled down a little, everyone left and it was just Leigh and I. Then he got terrible chills alternating with fever that over the night gradually lessened. I woke him up every hour to make sure he was conscious given the head injury. I went with him to the bathroom every time. I made him drink 7 liters of water (for you medical folks, half of them had electrolytes I added in).
We were both really scared. If he got worse, we didn't really have a recourse and we didn't know what was wrong with him to begin with. Our driver was staying outside the hotel and we couldn't get in touch with him. There was no ambulance, no hospital nearby. I realized, this is the way all of these people feel with a sick child or loved one: helpless.
Fortunately, Leigh improved as the night went on, and by morning he was starting to feel close to normal. We're still not sure why this happened. I can tell you though, to have your spouse become unresponsive in rural Africa is a terrible, terrible feeling and that night was the longest one I have ever endured.
I remember this so well! What a terrifying night that must have been for you! So glad that he was okay and that there were some "experts" on our trip. That was no accident.
ReplyDelete~Traci