If you are spending any time in Namibia, it's likely that you will have some sort of medical malady running the gamut of "I've chipped my tooth trying to open a bottle of cool drink with my mouth" to "Get me to the hospital as I think I have cholera, and I have no fluids left in my body."
Sadly, or perhaps not sadly, the former is more likely. The worst I've encountered in this year and a half is a nasty and long-running bout with an intestinal parasite, and while highly unpleasant, was not life threatening. Several doses of antibiotics later, I was right as rain.
Living in town now, access to legitimate healthcare is easy. I've even seen ambulances whirring about. However, calling that ambulance is not as easy as the 911 you learn in school. I don't actually know the number as it appears to be a lengthy sequence of binary code.
0110010 or 1101001 or actually perhaps that is just the police and ambulances have private numbers.
In any case.
Last year in the bush of Kaokoland, our "ambulance" from school grounds to town was my coworker's beat up Toyota bakkie from the 80s that you could start with any key you could get your hands on (or some other flat, pointy object) and drove at a warp speed of about 30 MPH. Thus, improvisation in medical crises was a tool that I learned early on.
Someone is bleeding and you're out of bandaids: Wad up some toilet paper and tape it to their skin. (I actually learned this trick while working in a café where slicing bagels required more care and attention than I tended to pay to my fingers.) It also brings joy to the faces of many a child if you use multicolored patterned duct tape instead of scotch tape, and you will soon see people wandering around with bits of neon tape stuck to their faces as a fashion statement.
Sunburn: This one only happened to me and my blindingly white self. So, lotion that shit up, take the ridicule from your non-sunburnable coworkers that comes with it, and drink more water. Or just remember to put on sunscreen, eh?
Broken bone: Yeah, your only option is to take the 1980s slow mobile over jolting bumps on a dirt road into the nearest town.
Headache: Drink more water.
Nauseous: Drink more water.
Feverish: Drink more water.
Unless, that is, the water is the problem, and it isn't potable. Well, if you were camping savvy, you would have iodine tablets or a Steripen. But if you are like me, and terminally unprepared, find a metal container to boil the water in. You will need to build a fire. That's right, you should have joined Wilderness Scouts like your parents wanted.
While you might end up with an empty Coke can with the top cut off filled with scalding, yellow-tinged water with things floating in it, at least you won't die of dehydration or whatever ickies are in said water. Or just live in the moment and drink from river. In which case aim for the rapids and avoid the crocodillas. Sorry, Mom.
I'm making things sound very appealing aren't I? The truth is, you usually don't have to deal with yellow water and illnesses. Just don't live at a school of young children and your health should remain above the red. I'm sure elementary school teachers the world over would understand this sentiment.
Nowadays, I suffer only from mosquito bites, wounds sustained from the dangerous art of cooking, and the occasional bruise from the everyday trips and dips of an accident-prone human like myself.
So, here's the bottom line.
If vacationing to Namibia or surrounding Southern Africa, create your own 911 kit.
In this kit you should have: sunblock, some way of sterilizing your water if it is impotable, toilet paper (very multipurpose), a lighter, and most importantly, a vehicle that can drive you to the nearest private doctor and/or pharmacy because not only will they have all the antibiotics and cortizone creams you need, they will also know how to treat your maladies better than Dr. Stan Johnson from Utica, New York.
(Disclaimer: this is a fictitious name. If there actually is a Dr. Stan from Utica, I'm sure he's a great guy, and you should book an appointment today.)
Of course, ask your doctor first, but most parts of Namibia are not malarial zones, and the malaria prophylaxis is expensive. So, just don't be stupid and you'll be fine. And for some serious advice, if you have to go a doctor or hospital, generally speaking you will receive more hygienic and attentive care from a privately owned clinic. But if a public hospital is your only option, that can be Plan B.
It doesn't take a trained survivalist to enjoy Namibia. Only common sense, a few key materials, and an ample sense of humor. In other words, be resourceful and don't panic.
Much love to all you readers on this glorious Friday.
Sadly, or perhaps not sadly, the former is more likely. The worst I've encountered in this year and a half is a nasty and long-running bout with an intestinal parasite, and while highly unpleasant, was not life threatening. Several doses of antibiotics later, I was right as rain.
Living in town now, access to legitimate healthcare is easy. I've even seen ambulances whirring about. However, calling that ambulance is not as easy as the 911 you learn in school. I don't actually know the number as it appears to be a lengthy sequence of binary code.
0110010 or 1101001 or actually perhaps that is just the police and ambulances have private numbers.
In any case.
Last year in the bush of Kaokoland, our "ambulance" from school grounds to town was my coworker's beat up Toyota bakkie from the 80s that you could start with any key you could get your hands on (or some other flat, pointy object) and drove at a warp speed of about 30 MPH. Thus, improvisation in medical crises was a tool that I learned early on.
Someone is bleeding and you're out of bandaids: Wad up some toilet paper and tape it to their skin. (I actually learned this trick while working in a café where slicing bagels required more care and attention than I tended to pay to my fingers.) It also brings joy to the faces of many a child if you use multicolored patterned duct tape instead of scotch tape, and you will soon see people wandering around with bits of neon tape stuck to their faces as a fashion statement.
Sunburn: This one only happened to me and my blindingly white self. So, lotion that shit up, take the ridicule from your non-sunburnable coworkers that comes with it, and drink more water. Or just remember to put on sunscreen, eh?
Broken bone: Yeah, your only option is to take the 1980s slow mobile over jolting bumps on a dirt road into the nearest town.
Headache: Drink more water.
Nauseous: Drink more water.
Feverish: Drink more water.
Unless, that is, the water is the problem, and it isn't potable. Well, if you were camping savvy, you would have iodine tablets or a Steripen. But if you are like me, and terminally unprepared, find a metal container to boil the water in. You will need to build a fire. That's right, you should have joined Wilderness Scouts like your parents wanted.
While you might end up with an empty Coke can with the top cut off filled with scalding, yellow-tinged water with things floating in it, at least you won't die of dehydration or whatever ickies are in said water. Or just live in the moment and drink from river. In which case aim for the rapids and avoid the crocodillas. Sorry, Mom.
I'm making things sound very appealing aren't I? The truth is, you usually don't have to deal with yellow water and illnesses. Just don't live at a school of young children and your health should remain above the red. I'm sure elementary school teachers the world over would understand this sentiment.
Nowadays, I suffer only from mosquito bites, wounds sustained from the dangerous art of cooking, and the occasional bruise from the everyday trips and dips of an accident-prone human like myself.
So, here's the bottom line.
If vacationing to Namibia or surrounding Southern Africa, create your own 911 kit.
In this kit you should have: sunblock, some way of sterilizing your water if it is impotable, toilet paper (very multipurpose), a lighter, and most importantly, a vehicle that can drive you to the nearest private doctor and/or pharmacy because not only will they have all the antibiotics and cortizone creams you need, they will also know how to treat your maladies better than Dr. Stan Johnson from Utica, New York.
(Disclaimer: this is a fictitious name. If there actually is a Dr. Stan from Utica, I'm sure he's a great guy, and you should book an appointment today.)
Of course, ask your doctor first, but most parts of Namibia are not malarial zones, and the malaria prophylaxis is expensive. So, just don't be stupid and you'll be fine. And for some serious advice, if you have to go a doctor or hospital, generally speaking you will receive more hygienic and attentive care from a privately owned clinic. But if a public hospital is your only option, that can be Plan B.
It doesn't take a trained survivalist to enjoy Namibia. Only common sense, a few key materials, and an ample sense of humor. In other words, be resourceful and don't panic.
Much love to all you readers on this glorious Friday.
OK, so here's the thing: if you live in a place where you have to know how to spell "malaria prophylaxis", much less what it is, and what to do with it, I say, geesh, you're brave. So very, very brave. And I love you for that bravery, Maisey. FYI: I'm having one of your sentences embroidered on a pillow: Just don't be stupid, and you'll be fine.
ReplyDeletexoxo Aunt Susan