When the next morning came and shifts changed I was still awake. The day nurse told me that the doctor would soon be here to check on me. He did and was surprised that I seemed to be worse. Normally fluids tend to fix most problems trekkers come in with but it became apparent that was not my problem. I was still nauseous and my stomach was swollen and severely tender. I was having trouble moving and still couldn’t stand without help.
I had been trying to get through to my family all morning but due to the bad connection and electricity cycling in Kathmandu (the electricity is limited to each section of Kathmandu and cuts every so often) my family was having a very hard time to get through to me and me to them. When we did the connection was so horrible that I could hear them perfectly but they couldn’t hear a word I was saying, which obviously caused my mum to get upset as she could tell I was in pain but she couldn’t hear a word I was saying. I hadn’t really cried up until that point but I worked myself into a state and I completely lost it. When the nurse came in to check on me she gave me an IV which knocked me out, giving me some much needed rest.
Embarrassingly during this time visitors came from Childreach to visit and I apparently had a fair conversation with them which I do not recollect. The nurse on their way out apparently told them she was shocked I even came out of my sleep to talk and I slept for much of that day with the medicine’s aid. That afternoon when I woke up I still felt horrible and the nauseau while getting better meant that the pain in my stomach was becoming much harder to ignore. When the doctor came in to check on me I was sent straight for a scan of my stomach. He had told me that my test results had come back and it seemed I had a nasty bacterial infection but just wanted to check. The ultra-sound doctor tried to be gentle but my stomach was so swollen and tender that even the softest touch felt excruciating and I tried to hold back tears through the scan. She had to call the doctor in to “check something” which was more than slightly terrifying as they apparently thought I had appendicitis. Upon further inspection I was told that was not the case but instead I had “very unhappy swollen intestines” which they would keep an eye on. I was put back to bed and started on an IV of antibiotics. At this point they had switched to my hand, as the two IV points on my inner arms were now full arm bruises which made it hard for me to bend my arms. I was told that I would not be discharged that day and probably not even tomorrow.
Nima came to visit me that night and was really lovely as he came late after work and just talked to me as I was having trouble sleeping and still in a lot of pain. He told me about his daughter and about work and about why I had met so many Nimas on the trip. Turns out it depends on the day of the week you were born. Everyone born on a certain day is named Nima. I did get to go to the storeroom to make a call to my parents telling them what had happened and not to worry (likely!). I was asked if I would like any dinner but food seemed out of the question. I was told if I didn’t eat it was likely I would not be going home until I did so.
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