Khyber Dreams Chapter 12: Back Down Again

The idea that my bout with the flu had ended after one day was rudely shattered when I fell ill again.

I'd had one good day, which had convinced me I was well. I hadn't expected to be thrown under the bus again one day later. It's likely that when the problem returned on the third day all my Pakistani relatives--or at least the ones in the medical profession--suspected what was wrong with me, but they didn't tell me. Perhaps they were figuring they might be wrong because they'd given all of us medication to be taken once a week during our stay to ward off this problem. This bug.

It wasn't until the on-again, off-again cycle of illness had been repeated three or four times that they let me in on the problem.

Malaria.

Honestly we were lucky because I was the only one to contract the disease. I'd forgotten to divvy up one week's worth of medication to Abid, Farida and myself--and that error came back to bite me. I can't begin to imagine how I would have felt if Abid, and particularly Farida, had suffered for that error.

I would learn later on that I was lucky in another respect, as well. Malaria is a disease with many variations and some of them can wreak havoc on a body for the rest of that person's life. I had one of the few forms that didn't repeat after the initial bout was finally over.

The disease controlled the rest of my time in Pakistan. I spent most days either in bed or resting because there was no energy to do anything else. I couldn't eat, and I lost weight. (Let it be known that malaria is an excellent way of losing a lot of poundage very quickly, but it's not a method I can ethically recommend.) Cooking odors which originally whet my appetite now had the opposite effect. If we went visiting, it was all I could do to carry on the most minimal conversation.

In order to make me more comfortable, we relocated to Abid's brother's house in North Nazimabad, the house that had been under construction when we arrived and was still not quite complete. But if offered the most modern conditions possible and greatly helped in my recovery.

We'd already begun to plan our journey around Pakistan to see Abid's sisters, and, not knowing when or if we'd ever be back, we were not about to forego the opportunity. I didn't know how I was going to manage, but somehow I'd find a way. As the disease continued, I did have days where I felt more or less all right, and I hoped there would be more of those as we made the rounds.