January 15, 2010

I was sick this last week with bronchitis. In early November I was given a mandatory flu shot, and then about ten days ago was inoculated against H1N1, so I thought I was safe against all things viral (and bacterial.) I was wrong.

So I languished in bed hacking violently for five days until I called the Peace Corps doctor. She asked me to go to the pharmacy for Ciprofloxin ($1.97), an antibiotic, and Broncholytin ($1.45), a narcotic cough suppressant. Within hours I felt remarkably better.

The pharmacies here have exactly one of each item. The pharmacist took a foil wrapped pack of ten Ciprofloxin pills out of a small box, and placed them with the bottle of Broncholytin into a small plastic bag, and I was on my way. There were no instructions about when/how to take the medication, side effects, or anything else. The Broncholytin bottle has writing in Bulgarian and Russian and the Ciprofloxin pills had writing on the foil that said Ciprofloxin, though no expiration date or lot number. This felt a little disconcerting for someone who likes to be able to read about what she is taking. No prescription was involved and the doctor did not talk to the pharmacist. If the next person in the door needed the same thing, they would be out of luck. The pharmacy is right across the street from the main hospital.

So everyday my host mom made many cups of green tea and soup for me with lots of garlic. Garlic is good for everything that ails you. My favorite was a warm yogurt soup with green onion, a little rice, and garlic. But by the end of the third day my pores were exuding garlic and I felt as if I smelled foul. To add to my woes, my host mom would not let me bathe because you should not bathe when you are sick. I even heard her telling the Peace Corps doctor that she had not let me bathe, like she was my savior! On the seventh day I bounded out of bed, announced that I was very well (even though I still felt unwell), and was able to coerce her into a bucket bath. Afterwards was the best I had felt in a week.

On the seventh day I went out and did a few errands, though I still had a slight cough and a little congestion. I had to go to the VivaVell store (like Verizon) to see why my modem was not working (out of megabytes) and to the phone repair center (“washed” my phone) just to find out that I needed to buy a new one, so I was off to the phone store. But I coughed slightly and had to blow my nose at each place and I am fortunate to be able to relate this story to you because in Armenia no one coughs and no one blows his or her nose. I am not kidding. I received glares that should have killed someone in my condition. People do not go out when they are sick! And they do not go to work either. Several weeks ago in church an older man blew his nose hard during the service, and everyone in the church turned and stared at him. I was amazed at the time about their reactions. That should have been my clue! (They do subtlety wipe their noses on their sleeves, but you never see tissues.)

Getting medical information here about people’s conditions is nearly impossible. They just don’t talk about it. One of the volunteers said that her host mom’s sister was not feeling well. So the doctor told her that she could either take some pills or have a hysterectomy. (I can’t imagine being offered the same alternatives in the US.) The volunteer is still trying to find out what the problem is. Another village volunteer’s host sister (20 years old) was not feeling well so the doctor came to the house and took vials of blood out of her arm and injected them into her buttocks along with aloe in the buttocks. Again the volunteer tried to find out what was wrong and was not able to. Though the girl is fine now so the “cure” worked. Another girl’s uncle (57) was not feeling well, went in for surgery, and died on the operating table this week. When I asked what the problem was, she said that he was not feeling well. I asked if he had cancer, heart problems, intestinal problems, etc. No, he just didn’t feel well. We hear horror stories here everyday about women who sat on stonewalls, chilled their ovaries, and had to have female surgeries. Or people who did not wear their slippers, got cold feet, and died of something. There are huge numbers of unemployed doctors, a totally broken medical system, and very poor training. We had one volunteer here who was sent to an eye doctor in Bangkok for what turned out to be a non-event (broken blood vessel in back of eye) because the Peace Corps does not trust the eye doctors here.

So I’m taking extra caution here on the icy streets in fear of breaking something and having to go to the hospital, and then finding out that I need surgery on some unrelated body part!