Bush Doctor

For the first several months I was in country, I got very lucky as far as health issues go, but some things are just a matter of time. I guess what started all of it was the onset of the wet season, which mean more bugs. My legs looked like they had been caught in machinery they were so tore up from bug bites. I would fight scratching them, but then awake in the night to myself trying to rip off my flesh to replace the itch with pain. Something more mentally tolerable. It wasn't until I went to the farm one day with my neighbors to gather pumpkin seeds that I noticed my boots rubbing a spot on my leg. Each time I took a step I would wince in pain. For miles we hiked to the farm. I tied to find a way of stepping that didn't hurt, twisting my ankle in many different angels as I put my weight down, but nothing worked. I just limped on.
The work that day got interrupted by a midday thunderstorm, so we took refuge in the camp. An open air thatch structure. Everyone had brought something to eat with them, except for me. As we all sat in a circle each person shared some of their food and drink with me. So, thanks to their giving, I laid back on a bag of corn with a full belly and fell asleep to the sounds of the thunder and rain mixed with conversation in Mayan. My leg felt better after resting a bit, and I rolled up my pant leg to find a big, red swollen lump on my calf. In the center was a black spot around the cut. I was planning on going to town the day after next, so I figured id take care of it then. As time went on though, the pain grew worse. By the time we reached home I collapsed in my hammock. I cleaned it the best I could and rested the next day. I caught the bus to PG on Friday. I showed my sore, which had now spread to another cut down my leg, to some of the other volunteers. They said it looked like staph, all the diagnosis I need, so I called the nurse. PC mailed me down some meds and I proceeded to enjoy spending time with friends that I don't usually get so see.
A lot of people were in for our friends thirtieth birthday party, so the walk all the way across town to the airport to pick up my medication when It came in that night seemed like a task that would be far better to do in the morning. In my stupidity I carried on with the spirit of the night. I kept feeling worse as the night went on even though I was trying to ignore it and have a good time. By the time I went to bed that night it was three in the morning, my leg ached with pain, my head swimming with fever, and my friends were robed. Twice. Which included my phone.
In the morning I thought I was on my deathbed. I walked to get my medication right away and took a double dose, per docs orders. My temperature was 101 and my leg was swollen from knee down, red as a tomato, with nasty black spots at the center of my cuts. My buddy Dan helped me hobble to a cab so I could get to the hotel. I was a mess, and in the cab was a nice boy and his grandmother going to church.
After a few days in the hotel getting chastised by the doctor for not starting my meds right away I though I was feeling better, and my wounds were all healed. However, not a week after returning to my village however, I noticed that I had a two new spots that looked like the others had before they got to bad. This time I was on the bus into town the next morning. Started taking my medication straight away and rested plenty. My legs were not really any better, still had two large red bumps, that may have been the infection turned into boils, but I decided to go home and just come back if it got worse.
Days later when my antibiotics ran out, and the hot compresses were doing nothing I told my neighbor I would return to PG to see the doctor. “No Matchew” he said “I will give you a medicine that works wery good.” He returned to my door about an hour later with a bowl full of cut up leaves mixed with water. At least that's all I think was in it. I figured it couldn't hurt, so I soaked a cloth in the mixture and applied it liberally to the infected areas a few times that day. By the time I went to sleep that night the swelling had gone down noticeably, and kept going down as time went on. I never did go back to town to see the doctor, and a week later there was not even a mark left where the infection was. I thanked him for helping me, but now I have a very hard time telling anyone that I am a “health” volunteer.