News From the Travel Clinic!

UPDATE! I have been to see the travel clinic doctor! ... And wow, did she ever scare me for life in Malawi. Please note, I am paraphrasing here, and as many of you know I have a tendency to over exaggerate slightly, but I promise this story is told to the best of my memory.

So first the doctor and I went over the several vaccinations I will need just to survive while I'm there. This list wasn't as scary or long as I had originally anticipated. 1 MMR = measles, mumps and rubella shot; 1 meningitis shot; 1 Hep A; 1 yellow fever shot. So I'm thinking okay, sounds simple enough, four shots wont be so bad. Piece of cake, bring on Africa! Then the doctor explains to me that Lilongwe is in a malaria prone zone. I replied "Okay, can't be so bad, I'll take a shot of that too!" ... If only it were so simple.

The doctor then explains to me there are a few options for malaria preventative pills I can take. Option 1: "This one is 5 dollars a day and you have to take it everyday you're there. You can't afford this one." Option 2: "You only have to take this one once a week, but some side effects may include depression, insomnia, vivid dreams..." I swear she went on to say weight gain, and also weight loss, heart failure, brain damage, death; anything that could possibly go wrong, could potentially be attributed to this pill. I stopped listening at this point and said "NEXT." The doctor continued. Option 3: "You would have to take this one everyday, some side effects may include vulnerability to the sun." I replied "I'm a white girl in Africa. I've come to terms with burning. But which one do you suggest?" The doctor replies, "well with option 2, very few people actually suffer from the side effects." So I question, "So you're saying option 2 is my BEST option?" ... A brief pause... the doctor speaks again, "well its just that with option 3 I would  have to calculate ALL the days you would be away for, and that's a lot." In my mind I'm now thinking, aren't you suppose to be insanely smart? You went to medical school! You've completed at least eight years of post secondary school! You're practically a genius, and you're worried about calculating how many days are in 8 months? I'll do the math for you if it means I don't have a chance of suffering from insomnia! So I calmed her stresses and said, "I got this," or something equally as suave. After adding the number of days I will be away, plus the weeks I have to take the pills before and after my trip, we rounded the number to 280 pills. Excellent, just add it to my tab.

"And now we're going to take about travelers diarrhea. You will get it." Oh, okay, great. We collectively add up how many times we think I'll suffer from travelers diarrhea, a fun conversation to have with anyone really, calculate how many pills I need to buy, and move on. Now that I'm officially broke, I ask, "is there anything else I should know?" This opens up the floor to the doctor who then instills a deep rooted fear into the very core of my being.

"Do you have any dietary restrictions?" Oh boy, here we go. I quietly whisper while staring down at my lap, "I'm a vegetarian, and I can't really drink milk or many dairy products." She looks at me like I'm a stuck up little hippie. "Well you might be able to get some fish." She says with a tone of disapproval. "Actually, fish is also meat, and therefore I don't eat fish either," now proving her assumption that I am indeed a stuck up little hippie. "Well then what exactly do you expect to eat?!" She says like a frustrated mother who can't get their children to finish their dinner plate. Head still down I say softly, "vegetables?" The doctor reacts immediately, "and just what kind of vegetables do you think you're going to find there? They don't have the variety we do here!" I now look terrified, knowing Africa will be the best weight loss diet I've ever been on whether I like it or not. The doctor looks me up and down and thinks, well luckily she's still carrying some holiday weight. She breaks the silence, "you'll be able to get yams! You can have yams!" Although I enjoying seeing her attitude change from, 'you're an ignorant North American', to 'yay yams!' I'm not thrilled. "Yum!" I shout with excitement. We look blankly at each other and thankfully the topic changes, but only to continue with more lecturing.

"Well you wont be able to wear those shorts you have on when you're there." Head down I nod feeling like a modern day floozy.


"Don't touch ANY animals you see in the street. You may think the dog skipping by is cute, but do not pet it. You will get rabies."

"Under no circumstances do you swim in ANY fresh water, at all! You will get parasites."

"Learn to boil all your water and keep it in jugs. Do not drink the water. Ever." She looks me sternly in the eye.

"Spray everything you own in bug spray. Bring lots. There is an African sleeping fly. People die from it quiet often. If you start feeling drowsy or you notice one of your friends losing conscientiousness get them back to North America immediately." I pause and yell, "I'm sorry... WHAT?!"

"Don't just go for jogs in your neighbourhood. Bad idea. Go to a sports track if you want exercise." I think to myself, exercise is the least of my worries at this point lady, if I make it past a week I'm basically immortal.

"Buy all of you drugs and medicine here in Ontario. You have no idea what you're buying over there." Oh, great, comforting.

She continued with a couple more pointers on how to stay healthy and safe, my brain still stuck on the African sleeping fly. Then she printed out what looked like a novel of information for me to take home and read. This trip to the clinic, although very informative, made me feel incredibly ill prepared for my move to Africa and for the first time a little frightened. However, this meeting did not deter me in the slightest! I suppose we can only hope for the best and prepare for the worst! Bring it on Africa! ... But seriously, please go easy on me.