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Published: August 6th 2007
P.O.T - Prisoner of Toilet
What can I say about Vietnam so far - The toilets work, I know that's for sure.
So I arrived in Saigon a few days ago, checked into the room, which is nothing fancy at $12 a night, but it has AC, Toilet, and a TV. After that I took a quick stroll to check the scene. Wandered for a bit, nothing too exciting, and decided that I'd have a bite to eat.
One thing I was really looking forward to in Nam was checking out the Cu Chi Tunnels (used by the Viet Cong). I inquired at one of the 1000's of travel agencies that lined the street, and found out that they leave at 8AM, so I decided that the following day I'd make the trip with a bus load of other backpackers to the tunnels. Because it was to be an early and action packed day, I decided that I have a mellow evening, to insure that I was at the top of my game for the follow day.
While in Cambodia I purchased an "unofficial" copy of the final season of the Sopranos, the one of two shows that I watch on TV. I had only seen the first episode, and was desperately looking forward to seeing the rest before someone ruined it for me. I can't tell you how many times it's come up were I had to go "NO don't say anything, I haven't seen them yet!" Next to the guesthouse there was a place that rented DVD players at $2 per day, so it seemed alright to call it an early one, watch the shows, and get some rest for the following day. Of course, I could only get it to play in black and white, but whatever, I was happy - a beer, Tony Soprano, and lights out.
That was all fine and dandy…until around 5am, when I woke up to a date with toilet; both ends of me. For the next few hours I made frequent trips to and from the bed to the toilet and so on. I soon started to develop a pallet for my own vomit, how sick I know. I could tell exactly what I was tossing back up, which for the most part was Gatorade or water. Later that morning I made a trip to the pharmacy, to get some charcoal tablets (they did the trick in Chang Mai). I crossed my fingers and downed a few, with a Gatorade chaser. You know what tastes bad - Charcoal. You know what's even worse, having it come back up. From there things only seemed to get worse. The more water I drank, the more I would vomit. At this point my stool was pure liquid.
The one upside was that I had rented that DVD player, and was able to watch the entire season of The Sopranos. The down side being that I was in Saigon, watching the Sopranos, with the only break being to vomit or to release bile from my ass. Now this is traveling. People send me emails, about being jealous of this or that. I don't think any one would be jealous of this scenario.
At this point three things were concerning me. 1st being the fact that I'd been in Cambodia, which had a Malaria problem, and I had been suffering what seemed to be the symptoms of malaria. 2nd was that the illness that I had was continuing to get worse and worse. My previous expeirnces with food poisoning was that it out starts bad, and gets better and better. The 3rd was that no matter how much liquid I drank, I would deposit it a few minutes later in the toilet, becoming increasingly dehydrated. It was so bad at one point that I stopped drinking water because my stomach muscle hurt from all the vomiting.
The staff at the guesthouse had been very helpful. When I finally came down at 10 pm that evening to talk to the manager about the possibilities of a Dr. in the AM, she gave me all the info. She also directed me towards another pharmacy. I walked down there, dripping with sweat, shaking, and occasionally stopping to puke in the street. Of course the pharmacist didn't speak any English, so I was forced to mime out my symptoms. There is something awkward about miming out dyheria to an old Vietnamese woman, but at this point it was the least of my problems. I could barely keep my eyes open, while the shaking and sweating became worse and worse. I tried to explain that I couldn't drink anything, and was throwing up. She handed me 4 pills and something to drink. I usually have an issue with taking unknown pills from a stranger, but in this situation wasn't left with much else. Hell, I couldn't even open the pills; I had to have her do it for me. She gave me a few more of each, which I tried to have her write the names down, incase I ended up getting my stomach pumped for some reason. This was a lost cause, as I was called to the street once more to vomit. I went back to the hotel, and promised myself that if I didn't get better by the AM, it was going to be a trip to the hospital, at whatever cost.
I continued to throw up for the next few hours, only to sleep for a few hours. I made sure to sleep on my side, because I didn't want to pull a Hendrix. I woke at 5 AM, still feeling horrible. I waited it out, drank some water, and decided that I need to go to the hospital. Around 630 AM, I stumbled into the lobby and asked Ha (manager) to call me a cab for the hospital.
I arrived at the hospital early, beating what I'm sure would be the morning rush. It was an international hospital, with doctors from everywhere on the globe. My Dr. was an Aussie, in his later 50's-60's. I explained everything to him, and we proceeded from there.
Taxi to Hospital - $2
Consultation with Foreign Doctor - $56
Two IVs with Saline, along with blood and stool tests - $201.30
Knowing that you don't have Malaria - PRICELESS.
I walked out of there a few hours later, with some antibiotics, and a little more hydrated then I'd been upon arrival. I went back to the hotel, completely drained. I was able to have some rice soup later on in the morning. Took a nap. Watched shitty American TV. Took another nap. Another bowl of soup. The trips to the toilet were becoming less and less frequent, which was a nice change. The only problem at this point was that I had thrown up both of the antibiotic pills, which wasn't very reassuring. I had a very early one last night, setting my alarm for 7AM, in hopes that I'd be healthy enough to visit the Tunnels in the morning. I felt better after the 10 or so hours of sleep. The true test came when I took the antibiotics. I waited a good 45 minutes, and was able to keep them down. Although I was still very weak, I decided that the lack of vomit was a sign that I need to get out there and do it.
Next entry will be about that.
But when I returned from the tunnels a few hours ago, I had my first meal in two days. I also had my first SOLID bowel movement. Unfortunately, they came at the same table, which for a 28 year old man isn't the greatest feeling, but neither is shitting water for 2 days, so I guess I was doing ok.
Tomorrow I will go into the tunnel experience, and my guide, Mr. Bean. That needs to be its own entry. Plus, I don't know how I'd follow up shitting my pants in a resturant at this moment, so I will leave it there.
-d.
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Marinos
non-member comment
Nice
You should write for Fromer's or some other travel guide, the "Ass-Bile Division." What a great story about Nam. All I knew about it before reading this was what went on with the French, the 1950's-70's US stint, some junk from Fulton school and Quang restuarant. Thanks for enlightening me about your constant discharge of liquids. Keep up te good work. Jordans!!!