The summer before my senior year of high school I spent two weeks traveling in China and South Korea. I experienced a severe and mysterious nausea each day of those two weeks. Last year, within the first month of being in Argentina, I got the flu for the first time in about 15 years. I was bed-ridden for a week, and by the end of it, was wishing death upon myself to end my misery. Then there was the now-infamous trip to Peru, where I emerged from Machu Picchu wheel chair-bound with grotesquely swollen, purple legs. Staring at my offensively over-sized legs, I quietly awaited the end to come, as I was convinced I'd contracted some jungle disease unknown to the Western world (damn mosquitos). Over time, it has become clear to me that traveling is not my friend when my health is concerned. Either I am somehow predisposed to pick up crazy illnesses, or I just have really, terribly bad luck.
Aside from my digestive disorder, I've been doing quite well in the health department so far in Spain. I'm cooking a lot and walking everywhere on top of exercising. So it really baffled me when I ended up sitting in urgencias (the emergency room) last night for several hours.
The symptoms: Inflammation of the tissue in my rib cage, extreme difficulty breathing, chest pain, congestion, fever, headache, exhaustion, stomach ache.
The diagnosis: Still unknown. After a general exam, blood work, x-rays, and other tests, it has been narrowed down to either costochondritis (upper respiratory tract infection, compounded by asthma) or the swine flu.
Currently I am bed-ridden yet again, munching on a baguette, watching bad Spanish TV, taking five different medications and awaiting the call with my diagnosis. These random travelers' illness stories seem more like something from a movie...but it just happens to my luck that this is real life. But, looking on the bright side, whatever this foreign ailment turns out to be, at least my legs don't look like giant sausages again!
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