I had a horrible night last night. I couldn’t sleep at all and kept having terrible dreams about people breaking into our house to steal all our things and kill us. When I woke up in the morning my whole body was acheing and I had the worst head ache ever. It felt like every few minuets some one was stabbing me in the side of the head with a knife and twisiting it slowly in a circle. I couldn’t help but cry everytime because it was so painful. It wasn’t a constant pain, but it came and went in waves. Looks like I wasn’t going to make it to the beach.
Sarah, Nick, and Ellen left for the beach at 9am and there was another group going at 11am. I told them there was no way I could get out of bed to go at with them, but I would try and make it with the next group. That, however, didn’t happen either. I was progressively getting sicker as the day went on. I pretty much didn’t more all day except to go to the bathroom.
At night, Maria came in to check on me. She said it didn’t look good, that I have all the symptoms of malaria, and that if I wasn’t doing better in the morning we should go to the hospital. That it is better to catch it and treat it than to not treat it and it get bad.
Great. My biggest fear. Going to the hospital in Ghana.
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