Dengue fever, also known as breakbone fever, is a PAIN in all the wrong places. Really. It’s a tropical disease and is transmitted by several species of mosquitoes. And of course, one of them bit me. So here I am, sitting in the hospital for the eleventh day now, bored out of my wits. Therefore, I decided to blog about it. Simply because I have nothing else to do! If you get dengue, you get high fever, body and headache, your platelet count falls and if it’s damn serious, you might need a blood transfusion. And whoever said that hospital food sucks, he was damn right! It sucks!! I honestly don’t have a better word to describe it’s… suckiness! I puked after 3 days of tolerating that shit. From the fourth day onwards, I made mom get me food from home. Yes, the doctor allowed it.
Now that THAT’S outa the way, let me start from the beginning.
It all started on….well… I’m not sure, actually. Obviously it started with a mosquito bite… I dunno when that happened. So anyway, we were all very excited about our college fest because of the opportunity we would get to participate and win stuff and get certificates and all. Also because other colleges would come to attend. Other colleges with guys in it. And believe me, for students of an all girls college, that’s a BIG freaking deal. Yeah. So, we were all psyched about the fest. I was supposed to volunteer for the eastern cultural dance programme. Which I did. And damn, it was tedious! They turned me into a coat hanger, a waitress, a GPRS and a bounty hunter of sorts! But I pretended to be okay with it cause I’d get a certificate for it later on. And I’d get to enjoy the other two days when all the cool events were to happen. Only, the stars weren’t aligned in my favor. I went home and went down with fever. High fever. Randomly. And since everybody is getting dengue nowadays, my dad forced me to get a blood test done. And tada! It came out positive for dengue! So I was admitted to the hospital. Initially I was sort of happy cuz I wouldn’t have to go to college. The happiness evaporated, however, when the nurse came in with a big ass injection. Saline. Joy.
After a couple of chantings of “OhmygodohmygodOHMYFREAKINGOD!!!” the deed was done. The channel was shoved into my vein. And it hurt like a bitch for the first couple of hours. Then it was not as a big a bother as I thought it would be. Except that I had to pee every second. Okay, not second. Hour. Every goddamned hour.
So anyway, two days from the day I got admitted, the doctors were not worried about my platelet count anymore. Because along with my platelets, my WBC count took a suicide fall too. It went down to a whooping 1300, and 4000 is the bare minimum normal whatever. The doctors were all panicking and started talking bone marrow transfusion and other fancy medical terms while I was calmly scrolling through Pinterest. What else could I do? Nothing. Then they put me on antibiotics and thankfully, no bone marrow transfusion was required. Eventually they remembered that my platelet count was down too. But nobody really gave a damn bout that. Everybody was just concerned about the WBC count. Anyway, then both the counts went up and I’m about to be discharged in a few hours now!
So, lemme tell you about a typical day in the hospital.
At 5.45am, a person would inevitably knock on the door EVERY single day, to suck blood. With a syringe. For a blood test. Did I mention that this happens everyday?
Then, after that guy leaves you the hell alone, by 6.30am, a nurse would come in, wake you up, practically shove you into the bathroom with your toothbrush and change the bed linens while you’re brushing. And no, it doesn’t matter if you have a 103 degree fever. It doesn’t matter if your body is aching like hell. It doesn’t matter if you are feeling like shit on fire that particular morning. It doesn’t matter if you have been partially digested by a freaking cobra. If the nurse asks you to get up and brush, you get the hell up and brush.
Then, by 7 am, right when you go back to sleep after brushing, somebody else will knock at the door with your breakfast tray. Half an hour hence, a nurse will come in to check your temperature and measure your blood pressure. Then the doctor comes for his morning round. After the doctor checks your vitals and all, you are free for a couple of hours. I usually chose to sleep for those couple of hours. Then by 12, you get lunch. After which, another nurse would come in to check your vitals again and give meds and all. Then I usually chose to sleep till some other people came to bug me. Basically, there’s no peace. Really. No peace. There’s always someone who needs to check something.
Anyway, Sweet Home Alabama is starting, gotta watch it for the millionth time, so bye!
P.s. My hand is also starting to hurt now cuz of the saline thingy which they removed today in the morning. So, tata!