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Published: July 19th 2006
Hospital
This is how Marijke found me when she arrived. The nice red color in my face was not sunburn.First, thanks for all the supportive messages I received from all you people.
I am back in Belgium now. Last week I got repatriated from Brisbane.
I was not planning on writing on my stay in the hospital but as a lot of you wondered what exactly happened to me out there, I decided to write this entry. If you are hoping for funny travel stories, you can stop reading here...
Saturday morning in Noosa on the lovely 'Sunshine Coast' in Queensland. The sun was shining and I decide to go for an early morning run before catching my bus to Brisbane. After I experienced on the mountain in Borneo that I was all but ready to tackle the mountains of the Andes later in the trip, I had started running again. I was slowly getting back in shape. Noosa was a good test as it's pretty hilly out there. The run went great and I got back statisfied about the progress.
After the run I ate breakfast, packed my bag and went to the bus stop. And that's when it happened.
Boom! All of a sudden a terrible headache hit me, I started to feel feverish, all my
Hospital
and I wasn't really hungry. muscles started to ache and I felt all energy flow away. I took some painkillers and managed to survive the 3 hour busride and drag myself to a hostel. I went to bed and stayed in there, the whole time for almost 2 days feeling totally miserable with always higher fevers.
On Monday morning my temperature went up to 40° so I went to a doctor who sent me to the Royal Brisbane Hospital. Half an hour later, I litteraly crashed (fainted) into the Emergency unit. They started asking me a million questions and got blood samples. At first no one had a clue what was happening and one senior doctor promised me I would be able to leave the hospital in the evening. But as all the blood tests started coming back negative they became less optimistic. However some one in the 'infectious diseases' unit thought I had 'dengue fever' but it would take a couple of days to be sure.
Marijke (my girlfriend) was arriving that night for some holidays in OZ and NZ and she needed to know where I was. So I called my hostel and asked them to tell her where I was, when
Hospital
On Intensive Care just before I could move out of there. and yes I was somehow connected to all this stuff. she arrived.
The diagnosis of 'Dengue fever' aka 'Breakbone fever' seemed very logical as I had almost all symptoms: terrible headache and muscle ache all over the body (hence the name 'breakbone fever'), a rash and very high fevers. There is no remedy available for 'dengue', so nothing much happened the next 2 days. I would have to 'sweat it out'. But the pain didn't get less at all. I was taking the maximum amount of painkillers but every time an hour before I could take the next dose I was going nuts from the pain. Luckily by then Marijke was by my side to calm me down.
After 2.5 days in the hospital things started to deteriorate fast. During the night I could hardly breath and the oxygen in my blood got really low. Even when asleep I was breathing as if had just finished a 400 m run. My heart was racing like crazy. A doctor suggested giving me some morfine, but I was not too fond of that. I don't like drugs and morfine is a bit too close to heroin for me. Also it's something I associate with dying people. They gave me something
Hospital
My favourite nurse (Marijke), who sat beside me every day for 3 weeks. a bit lighter and somehow the pain was supportable for a while.
Not for long though, by the next day (Thursday) the pain was back even stronger. This is were the doctors realised something was going seriously wrong with me. All dengue fever tests were negative. Instead I went into a state that they called 'multi-organ faillure'. My kidneys stopped working almost completely, my liver was showing values 5 times higher than normal and my lungs were in serious trouble too (making breathing nearly impossible). My whole body started to swell up (my weight went up from 82 to 88 to 92 kg in 3 days). And than they found out my heart was having problems also! The pressure in my right heart chamber was going dangerously close to the upper limit.
In the afternoon I couldn't take the pain anymore and they gave me a dose of morfine. After that it all becomes pretty blurry for me. I was taken from one test to the other. After a late night (I believe they had to get several specialists back to the hospital) test looking for blood clots in my lungs (negative), I was taken to the 'Intensive
Hospital
My only visitors, a Belgian/Australian delegation: Hilde and Barbara. We were supposed to visit them instead they came to see me. Care Unit (ICU)'. Still 'high' on morfine, I really didn't realize what was going at the time. I now know that I looked really bad because several people from the hospital staff told me afterwards that they thought I wouldn't make it through the night. The doctors had told Marijke she had to prepare for the worst and make sure my parents knew what was going on...
I only clearly remember that I got really angry about the transfer to ICU, because I just wanted to have some rest and 'go to sleep'. I now know that if they had let me go to sleep I would not have woken up the next morning!
I wasn't going to get sleep soon that night as they would be 'working on me' untill about 1 am. Putting all kind of tubes and lines in my chest (one straight into the heart) and arms. They also finally started pumping antibiotics (the maximum dose) in me.
All the while my poor/brave Marijke wasn't allowed to see me. She had been advised by the doctors how bad my situation was and must have been near despair. She spent the night on the hospital floor
Hospital
Marijke looks for support in the arms of another guy. next to my room.
The next morning (Friday) I was more or less stable but they still didn't know what I had. I was declared as extremely infectious, so all medical staff and visitors had to wear a full protective suit (almost like the movie 'Outbreak') as if I was suffering from 'Ebola'.
By the afternoon they thought they found out what was going on and immediatelly started a second antibiotics treatment. On Saturday I started to feel alive again and one day later I had recovered enough to leave Intensive care. I also got my appetite back...big time.
After that, I spent another 2 weeks in the hospital, getting huge doses of antibiotics pumped straight in my veins. Every 4 hours a new dose...also at night. After they woke me up for the 4 am dose I usually didn't go to sleep, instead I watched the World Cup evening matches live. It was great to see Australia get all excited about the World Cup and their 'Socceroos'...and get really dissapointed after they got cheated of a place in the quarter finals by an 'Italian Actor' (that's the nicest thing I heard about him afterwards) and a not
so impartial referee.
After 2 weeks I finally got discharged and a couple of days later we were on a plane home. Because of the severness of my illness and the need for a long revalidation, the doctors would not allow me to continue my travels now. I was to be repatriated home and Marijke had to come with me as an 'escort' in case something would happen on the way home.
So what got me: The diagnosis of the hospital was a rare tropical bug called Leptospirosis and the more common streptococcen. I probably caught it throug a small cut I had in my toe. A small open wound and me walking around on flip flops all the the time and getting in the water (sea, rivers, pools) were probably the causes of a lot of trouble.
Together the two bacteria were able to raise hell in my body.
According to the doctors I have been extremely unlucky getting the Leptospirosis bug. Getting the combination of both bugs was even more improbable and will probably (according to my doctor) make me famous in the medical world as it is so uncommon.
People tell me: "You were
Hospital
Waiting for the results of my final blood test and the 'OK' to fly home. very lucky to get this in Australia and not in South East Asia". Sure, no doubt about that ... but I don't think I would have gotten it in SEA. I was a lot more careful over there and would never have walked around (let alone have swum) with an open wound. But in Australia I was in this 'safe and modern' country. What could happen to me?
The 'tropics' that's what happened to me. Whether you are in Central Africa, Brazil or Australia, the tropics are the tropics and there is a lot of bugs out there that can cause a lot of damage.
It's just another lesson in being humble towards nature. The fact of being in a 'modern, 1st world' country gave me a false sense of security. But a lot of things in nature can not be controlled... not even by the most advanced technology. Well you live, you learn...
So now I'm sitting at home still feeling pretty weak and getting tired very fast. The doctors tell me to be as calm as possible. No exercise, no sport... just resting. All of that is not really in my nature but I don't have much of a choice.
I was told that it usually takes about 5 months to fully recover from what I went trough... But than again my recovery in the hospital has been a lot swifter than normal. It usually takes 3-4 weeks for the kidneys and 7-8 weeks for the liver to get back to normal. In my case both had gotten back to normal after a week and a week and a half. So I am hoping on a faster recovery.
Anyway I'm back home now and I hope to soon be able to get out and meet some of you guys and girls.
You can still expect one more blog on the 3 weeks before I got Ill. So far I only uploaded some pictures. I'll try to get some stories on my (mis)adventures on the East Coast to go with them. It's been some time now, I'll have to get my notes out.
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David
non-member comment
Geeeeeeeeeez man...
I don't know what to say. Marijke kept me informed and, man was I scared. Anyway, glad to see you're doing much better. It's a pity your little adventure had to come to an end, but hey, what can you do. Anyway, now we all know you're a good writer and a great photographer! Get well!