I Still Have All My Vital Organs

A week in my life:  bed bugs, pharmacy hospitals, and IV drips.  Aren't you jealous? 

During my terribly exciting life of fanciful trips to exotic locales I recently got a terrible case of bed bugs or something that attacked my entire body and caused it to itch and swell up.  I'm a sexy beast.

It could be worse, you don't get to see my legs.
The hotel, one that our office books regularly and who make a ton of money off of us, felt bad about the beastly bitten girl wandering around their premises scaring other clientele and offered to bring me a doctor for a little house call.  Said doctor arrived and promptly determined he had no idea what the matter with me was but that I definitely needed an injection of hydrocortisone. 

Since he was terribly busy with other pressing issues I was told to stop by his pharmacy at 6:30.  Still feeling guilty for the horrible rash/bug attack I incurred at their hotel a staff member drove me over and kept an eye on my situation as it unfolded. 

Once the doctor arrived he informed me that this would not just be an ordinary injection but I would need the medicine via an IV.  He showed me to the back room of the pharmacy, immediately bringing to mind bathtubs full of ice and irrational fears of organ harvesting.  (I imagine in actuality they hid me in the back so as not to alarm the other customers with the screams from the whitey as they came out me with a needle.) 

As the good doctor hunted for a vein, complaining (to the girl with transparent skin and blue veins) that they're so hard to find in mzungus, he finally drew blood.  Jokingly, I hope, he commented "Oh, your blood is red."  I looked at him confused, "What color should it be?"  Deadpan: "White." Ok, then.

That was super comfortable to sleep with.
I had this lovely IV stuck in me for the next 12 hours as the doctor didn't trust the nurse to re-inject it into me the next morning for my follow up shot.  Good news is, 4 days later, my arms no longer look quite so leperous and the refugees and interpreters are no longer cringing away from me in fear of contracting some communicable disease. 

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