Nothing new
... well, there is this one thing.
Had a little experience during my otherwise fantastic time away. It all started about two weeks ago. It was business as usual in camp. I had spent the day hiking around the mountains like any other, and without any major problems (my knee had been bothering me, but that's an unrelated and less exciting story). Later in the evening I started to feel slightly bloated, as if I had eaten too much. As this is a daily symptom of my glutinous existence, I shrugged it off as nothing.
The next day I was working in primarily in camp, with the exception of a short ATV ride and hike out to the drill around midday. The feeling from the previous night had not dissipated, and in fact had slowly begun to intensify. Again, I shrugged it off as nothing, until around four in the afternoon, when I could no longer ignore the pain in my abdomen, which at that point was too intense to continue standing. I had to stop working and was forced to my room to lie down for the remainder of the day. After an uncomfortable, sleepless night, the following morning I called the first aid attendant/ cook to come to my room. He inspected me and we decided calling a doctor was probably in order. The Doctor (an American who primarily tends to the needs of the Americans who work at the US embassy in Tirana) said he didn’t like the sounds of things, and that he wanted to see me immediately. So, with a little help, I was able to stand and painfully make my way out to the truck to begin my three-hour ride to the capital. The first hour and a half of which was over the gravel, bumpy, mountain road. As it was painful to lie in my bed, the ride down was a little uncomfortable to say the least. I was extremely relieved once we arrived in the city.
After meeting with him, he was having difficulties narrowing down my condition, and ordered that I get admitted to the hospital so that he could conduct a few tests. So I was moved across town to the American Hospital. American only in name mind you. This privately owned Turkish hospital was surprisingly modern, and felt much like being in the Health Sciences Center. Soon after arriving I had been hooked up to IV (I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in over 24 hours), and had a CAT scan, amongst a plethora of other tests, in which they discovered I had a case of acute appendicitis. Later that evening, I went under the knife and had that sucker removed. Good riddance, I says!
Apparently, after a surgery like this, you’re not allowed to work for at least two weeks. And when your job involves moving 50 lb core boxes and climbing mountains on a daily basis, the wait can be as long as three to four weeks. The last thing I wanted to do after waiting all year long to start work, was to stop… but it seems I didn’t have much say in the matter. So after a four-day stay in the hospital, I was moved to a hotel as I waited until I was healthy enough to fly. I was shipped back to Canada Wednesday (first class, that’s another story). And here I am, back in the 709 for at least two, but likely closer to three weeks as I heal up.
But you won’t hear me complain. It wasn’t a bad experience. Considering that I have had a fairly major surgery in Europe’s poorest country, and walked away without any problems, I consider myself pretty lucky. Plus it’s always nice to get home.
So.. how’s everybody else doing?
posted by Jaboc at 10:17 AM
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