Thursday, September 27, 2007

Coughing Fit

Life in the season of influenza. This is a hard time of year in Zimbabwe… Sorry, I just had a coughing fit and now I can’t remember what I was writing.

I’m going to live. I’m popping antibiotics like they’re candy. Well, I’m taking them twice daily with plenty of water. I’m supposed to be at home resting, but it’s too quiet there. And other than the coughing, I feel much better. Except for the brief moments of dizziness, nasal congestion, ear pressure and that faint-throbbing sensation at the front of my head.

It’s nice talking with you (whoever you are). With Rochelle traveling so much I’ve had no one to talk to during the days or evenings. Last night I sat in my dark house (no electricity, no phone service) and spoke to the giant wall spiders in my living room. Of course they didn’t talk back (I’d be crazy if I thought that could happen) but one of the spiders did seem to understand me when I said that I’d have to get rid of him before my mother-in-law visited. The spider responded by quickly moving to our wall of pictures and stopping over the face of Rochelle. I’m not sure if that was his idea of a threat or not, but I’m not going to take any chances. I guess my mother-in-law will have to stay somewhere else when she visits.

I’m fairly introverted and a bit of a loner, so I’ve been surprised by how lonely I get living here. People are nice to me, and I suppose that I have many friends, but our conversations are quite limited. For example, last night two of my neighbours visited me to see how I was doing. Here’s an excerpt from our conversation:

“…Thanks for visiting. I’m doing much better but I still have a bad cough. I went to the doctor yesterday and he said that I have a chest infection and he gave me a prescription for antibiotics. I should be fine in a few days.”

“Well, you should see a doctor. Why haven’t you seen a doctor?”

(Right! Wait, it gets better.)

“…Rochelle’s away in Karoi for a few days. She went there with World Vision to explore some ways our organizations can partner together to fight HIV/AIDS. She should be back Friday night.”

“Good. So, where is Rochelle this evening? Is she home?”

(I had three similar conversations/miscommunications yesterday. Perhaps it’s my crazy Canadian accent?)

Rochelle is my primary friend, so when either of us travels, it becomes quite lonely for the other. I don’t know a single person here who would be interested in hearing about the last five books I’ve read. That’s not a bad thing, but it sucks for me. So all I talk about with my friends is The Salvation Army, the weather and the lack of bread and meat in the shops. And, of course, the constant greetings throughout the day (How are you? I’m fine if you’re fine…) Oh, wait, I almost forgot the ongoing discussion about why Rochelle and I have no children. Those are fun, too.

I went out for lunch today. I had some chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables. Yesterday I had a potato for lunch and canned grapefruit for supper. The day before I had canned guava and an orange for lunch and then half a bowl of Kraft Dinner. Monday I had an orange and a red freeze-it (so cool on my sore throat). This was the tastiest day of the week. And probably the most nutritious. Don’t worry, Mom. I’m getting enough food.

There’s a man screaming outside. I think he’s in the parking lot of the medical clinic next door to my office. I’m not sure what sort of clinic it is, but I often hear people shouting or screaming. This does little to ease my fear and mistrust of the medical profession. Thankfully my doctor does not work there. He’s actually a nice man, considering that he sticks needles into people.


Here's a photo of Rochelle's new hairstyle. She's posing with Florence Pamacheche. Wait a minute, that can't be Rochelle. It must be John.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Finally - I've been waiting weeks to see the hair...any growth yet? Praying that you'll keep feeling better. Cathie

Anonymous said...

Hey John ... Your spider conversation sounds a bit like a Franz Kafka novel ...
Bruce

Tara Ayer said...

John...why are you wearing a skirt? Glad to hear (through your Dad, that you're feeling better).