buzzz buzzz bite!

It started out at a persistent ticking in the back of my head. “Not a normal headache,” I thought to myself, “but perhaps I’m on the way to a migraine.” I had stuff to get done though so I couldn’t be bothered by the pain. I continued on with my day ignoring the aches growing in my body. I tried to enjoy lunch, got some errands done, and then eventually found myself abnormally exhausted and in desperate need of a nap. I hopped on the back of the local transportation; a motorcycle I shared with two other people called a “boda-boda” and made my way home. As I crawled into my bed, the suspension of something worse than a migraine came rearing into my head. And it wasn’t just my head now. I felt hot and cold, sore and achy. My fever spiked up and it wasn’t long before I went into intense shivering as my body tried to break the 104 degree temperature that appeared almost out of nowhere.

It was the night before I left Africa and boarded a plane for Australia.

Malaria.

That’s was the obvious answer, but one I was unwilling to accept. I imagined being left behind because of my symptoms as my team boarded a plane. So I prayed and when I physically couldn’t pray anymore my team prayed for me. The night was miserable, maybe one of the worst physical discomforts I’ve ever experienced and all I could do was try and sleep and get through the evening. My hope being that when the morning broke through so would my fever.

When I did wake in the morning I felt some relief from the night before, but I wasn’t up for the 20 plus hour journey on an airplane that was before me.  I also wasn’t up for staying behind. So vomit bag in hand, I hopped on a bus and made the 4 hour trek to the airport and somehow managed to board the plane and land in Dubai.  I headed straight for the medical clinic in the Dubai airport and practically begged them to give me an IV for some fluid that I knew I was in need of. I had a rest in the hospital bed at the airport (yeah- who knew they had those) and I appreciated it beyond measure. Looking back now I recognize that I technically shouldn’t have been allowed on the next plane, not in the condition I was in, but I can’t say I am not grateful that I snuck past the cheerful faces of the flight attendants.

When I finally arrived in Australia I began to feel a bit better. I had some good days and bad days but I never took myself to be tested. I was ignorant and didn’t heed the obvious warning signs that my body was practically screaming at me. I had malaria, and even though all my symptoms pointed to it, I chose to ignore them and blame it on an odd feeling or intense reaction to jetlag. To my defense, it didn’t help that the symptoms came and went (something I later learned is common with faliciparum malaria)

 Besides the fact that I was plagued with the poison of a mosquito bite, adjusting to life out of Africa and back into Australia was strange and beautiful all at the same time. Being back in the Western world was as shocking as expected. People appeared unhappy and almost gave off a grey color, but then again it is winter in Australia so maybe I’m being too harsh. I missed Africa desperately the whole time. But as the days passed I began to appreciate what I have in Australia as well. As a team we debriefed our year together. We laughed, we cried, we told stories, and we tried to make sense of the fact that this was the last time we would ever be together as a whole team. 

As we said our goodbyes-me and two of my best friends from my team closed our time out together with a trip to Brisbane, a city on the opposite side from Perth. Our first day in Brisbane was great.  It just took two days though before the symptoms that afflicted me previously began to flare up again. I found myself checking my friend into the hospital and then joining her the next day for the same thing: MALARIA.

I was supposed to catch a flight home but was held back- by 4 days, which felt like an eternity after being away from home for a year. But I survived.  And all thanks goes out to everyone who prayed, without ceasing,  for my well-being. Another reminder that I am not in this alone. I have support. People who pray and care and invest into my life helps me recover from mishaps like these.

What did I learn from all this?

Well first of all- malaria is the pits. One of the most uncomfortable and painful things I could have gone through.

-My parents are incredibly strong, patient, and constructive. Again, I don’t have children but I can imagine what its like to hear that your child is FAR away and suffering and there’s not much that can be done about it. But my parents persevered, prayed, and relied on Christ to continue to care for me. We can all learn something from that, can’t we?

I feel like I must add in that my flight delays and changes were not without cost. Obviously, as a missionary who doesn’t get paid for my work, the expenses were beyond my ability to provide- so my parents did. And whether it was beyond their ability to provide for will go without my knowledge, because they did what they needed to do for their child. What incredible parents I have!

-God is still good! Even though I wanted to go home. Even though I was already in emotional pain about leaving my team and ending this leg of my journey, even though the last thing I needed was a medical bill and a headache from the infernal regions- I can still say, without a shadow of doubt- that God is a good, loving, and gentle Papa. He took care of me. And He will continue to take care of me as I continue to serve Him.

-Last thing I learned is I shall never again grow weary of taking my malaria prophylaxis.  This lesson learned also comes with an apology and confession to you. After 5 ½ months of NOT getting malaria, I grew lackadaisical with my malaria medication. And we have all seen what happens when you do that.  I know I need to be safe and healthy and I have learned the hard way that when we grow lazy and ignorant (and act like it could never happen to us) we put ourselves in danger.

So there it is. My adventure, for lack of a better word, with malaria. May it be the last- and if it isn’t may I continue to have people like you, who obviously are incredible prayer warriors on my side.

God Bless you all.