Life is… knowing when and when not to ‘Dentist’

In my last post, I recounted – in probably far too much detail – my amoeba experience. In the post’s conclusion, I noted that I had somehow lost a significant chunk of my tooth and would need to locate and visit a dentist. Well, I did. And it was… terrifying.

Have you ever had one of those moments or been in a situation where your gut tells you to ‘abort’? Like you’re looking around, and everything about where you are tells you to back away slowly and avoid making eye contact. This, my friends, pretty much sums up my experience at the dentist last week.

I have to be honest – I was pretty hesitant to visit the dentist here in the first place. It’s not that I thought there weren’t capable dentists in Kampala, it was more so the fear that I would end up at the one dentist who wasn’t. And boy do I hate it when my fears turn out to be somewhat true! I have a really good dentist back home, but before finding this one, I had a terrible experience. So, I’m always reluctant when I have to make a trip to a new one.

So, I’m escorted into the room. It’s dark. The room is pretty dusty. I think maybe this isn’t a good idea, but I’m here, so I’ll sit and wait to see what the dentist is like. Enter dentist. She had about the enthusiasm of a rubber boot – i.e. she didn’t. She asks what the issue is then prompts me to open my mouth so she can see where this partly missing tooth is. It was at this point that all of my internal alarms started to go off. I mean, it appeared as though she didn’t know how to use the little mirror on a stick thingy… and she clearly was uncertain of what she was looking for. But, being me, I didn’t want to jump-the-gun quite yet. So, I allowed her to proceed with the process of repairing my tooth.

I was assured I’d be fine. The wait for the assistant to gather the necessary tools was the perfect recipe for me to dream up all of the things that could go wrong. But, again, I told myself, it will be okay.

How many of you have ever had a dental procedure sans freezing? It sounds kind of crazy, right? Well, that’s what I thought. And, I can assure you, it is much better than forgoing it, as my dentist felt was appropriate. One gentle touch of the drill to my tooth, and I was sold on ALL of the freezing no matter the expense! The only thing worse than the instant pain, was the look of annoyance that was now painted on this lady’s face as I requested we wait until the freezing had set in. Here I am sitting in the dental chair, thinking that I’ve pissed off the person in charge of the next steps. This can’t be good…

The next several minutes are a blur.

I’m joking* – I’m happy to report that I survived. A little scarred, but alive. Again, let me reiterate, this is likely not the case for ALL dentists in Kampala. I’m sure there are some skilled practitioners here. I haven’t had any pain since the procedure, so I assume what she did is fine. It was just her methods and lack of personality that made the experience what it was. But hopefully, this is the end of it!

Saturday was the first time in far too long that I felt like myself again. My amoeba is under control, and my mouth appears to be as it should…? I am feeling optimistic that this is the end of my brush with illness for a while. So until next time…

-the Orange Canadian

*About the blurred moments, not how terrifying this experience was.

Un-Amoeba-ble!: A truly explosive ‘Bowel Buddies’ adventure

Hello friends…family…people I’ve never met. This post is not for the weak stomached… because it’s kind of gross. So, if you get squeamish over bathroom talk, I suggest you scroll to the bottom of the page – whilst averting your eyes – and click a different one. But also, be warned – this is going to sound really bad, maybe even negative, but I promise you, it had been written in good – although grotesque – fun, with a slightly self-deprecating chuckle!

***

So, traveller’s diarrhea… is a thing… that often get’s thrown around… when you’re talking about travelling abroad. Well… the diarrhea itself is hopefully not being thrown around, but the term, the warnings, etc. most likely are.  The good thing about this affliction is that you get to take a weird (some, meaning me, might even argue tasty) fizzy, raspberry flavoured concoction to reduce your chances of getting it. And thankfully, so far, it has worked. But, you can understand my alarm, when all of a sudden food was coming out as quickly as it was going in*.

On Friday night, I awoke around 11pm to a suspicious gurgling sound coming from the stomach region of my body. I knew it could only mean one thing: diarrhea! And sure enough, it eventually flowed along. But the thing is, on top of that, I was also overcome with a need to burp… a sensation that was unsuccessful in being fulfilled. Well, that is, at least until I proceeded to spend the next 6-ish hours dry heaving and producing approximately one half of a litre** of nothing but water and stomach acid. Mmmmm - hope you’re not eating!

Aaron refused to take a picture of me pretending to be crying on the toilet...
so I attempted a self-portrait. I have to say, I'm quite impressed with my skills.
The blue surrounding the toilet represents my tears. Not sure what's going on with my hair, though...

At first, I thought maybe this was food poisoning, and then I recalled that magical time in Ghana where I had similar symptoms that lasted for nearly 24 hours. I now understand this as having been caused by dehydration – which I thought this was. So, I drank… and I drank… and I drank. My fellow intern/roommate and one of my coworkers were super supportive and made sure I wasn’t dying. And, for the most part I felt fine.

But then Saturday rolled into Sunday, and those gurgles returned. And as Sunday became Monday, my condition was getting much, much worse. For when I got out of bed to get ready for work, I felt a very unwelcomed sensation of being stabbed in the stomach. Now, to be fair, I’ve not actually ever been stabbed in the stomach, but it’s what I can only assume this would be like. So, I finally admitted that visiting a clinic would be the ideal choice, despite the pleas of my co-worker on Saturday, and suggestions of my roommate pretty much the entire duration of the weekend.

As I walked up the ramp into the clinic, I realized that this was the first time I’d ever needed to go to a hospital outside of Canada. And this is what I’ve learned… wait times – almost non-existent compared to what I’d have experienced had I been home. It took just about an hour to see a doctor, walk awkwardly around the building with a vile of my on-demand poop-in-a-jar, trying oh so hard not too look suspicious***, and get the results. The results of which were inconclusive. So, I left with an empty stool container and instructions to return in 2 days if the symptoms stayed the same.

Now, I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, they didn’t go away. So yesterday, I returned to the clinic, sample in hand…well backpack, then hand, then lab. I had the results back in less than 10 minutes, which honestly made me question the validity of the test, but I digress… Anyway, would you believe this test also came back inconclusive? Well, if you do, then good…because it did. At this point I was told to sit and wait for my doctor to arrive in approximately 30 minutes.

And this is when I learned about Andy. Andy is the name I’ve just given to the amoeba, or possibly amoebas, living in my stomach. This is what we thought, based on my extensive research on the inter-webs. For those of you who don’t know about Andy’s family background, he’s a single cell organism that can morph into various shapes and can kill you if untreated…especially if you’re under 5 – which is pretty much how I felt when they handed over the pills I was told I had to take. Did I mention I hate/can’t swallow pills?

 

The list of symptoms. The green check marks indicate which ones I had...
I used Comic Sans because it's equally as terrible as how I felt, but also kind of happy. 

Anyway, so far I have been successful in starting the treatment… although it takes me a good hour to complete the task!

But, I’ve got one more tale of woe to share with you, partly because I’m frustrated with my failing body, but also because I enjoy a good laugh at my own expense. Come to think of it, those might actually be the same thing… Anyway, I also, some where along the line, broke a tooth. But, not just a small chip, I mean half of my tooth is missing. How? I’m not sure. When? Equally clueless. All I know is that while Andy is vacating my digestive system, I’ll be looking for a dentist.

Here’s to good health, and hopefully the conclusion of expat illness bingo!

-the Orange Canadian

*Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

**I know this measurement because I also successfully mastered throwing up in a 1L reusable water bottle! That one’s definitely going in the CV!
***Seriously, for a girl who loves poop, and talking about it, I was so uncomfortable having to hold this sample while failing epically at finding the lab. I’ll give you a hint – they didn’t actually call it a lab! I was wandering all over the place, and no one’s instructions made any sense. If only they had told me that fact, I could have reduced some of my… embarrassment?

A Little Remembrance Goes a Long Way

Once a year we observe a day or just a moment of silence in honour of those lost in the wars and what the sacrifices of thousands of men and women have meant for our present day. And, I can’t help but reflect on the actions that have led to this significant day.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t always look on Remembrance Day as something deserving of respect. I naïvely thought of this day as a foolish way of praising people who did unspeakable acts all in the name of “freedom.” That is, of course, until I started to spend A LOT of time with veterans from the Second World War.

My time working with veterans began shortly after my Grandpa was admitted to Camp Hill, Halifax’s veterans’ hospital. Every few weeks I would join my step-dad and Gramma for the weekly Tuesday Night Bingo. Not long after, those ‘every few weeks’ turned into every week, and before long I was an official volunteer – badge and all! This gig lasted just about two years, until I made the decision to complete my Bachelor’s degree.

It was in these weekly gatherings that I got to know many of the hospital’s residents. I met their families, heard stories of their childhoods and the girls they ‘chased’ while overseas, and learned that playing for snacks was way more important/exciting than money. I learned about the complexity of life and aging. But most importantly I learned that these men were not bad people for opting to fight in a war. They were boys, who were still living with the consequences of those actions – actions that have shaped what Canada looks like today. It took me until that opportunity to realize that in many cases the decision to sign up for deployment was a better alternative to a life believed to be far worse.  And while I can’t comment on whether or not there was truth in that alternative, what I can say is that the results were lasting. We, as humans, are not equipped to deal with the repercussions of witnessing such horrors – not then, and not now.

I feel such shame when I look back at how I had thought about this day. But, I am thankful for the lessons, even if unintentional, that each resident taught me. Those were and likely will be some of the most positive and happy times of my life. So please, I urge you, today take a step back. Think about where you’re living. Ask yourself if you’d be willing to make the same sacrifice under the same circumstances. I am certainly not in favour of violence – I wish we could find an end to it the world over. But, if I have learned anything, it’s that the decision process for ‘opting in’ isn’t always as simple as we may think. Sometimes it’s just about finding a way out. Sometimes it’s about finding oneself. Sometimes it’s nothing more than hope for a better, more peaceful world.

Photo Credit: http://staynerlegion.ca

-the Orange Canadian

Grasshopping

One of the magical things about travelling outside of your home is the experience of new foods, cultures, languages, and just everyday life outside of what you know. Last week, I was lucky enough to partake in one of these experiences.

If you haven’t guessed by that brief introduction and the title of this post, it involves grasshoppers - or, perhaps more specifically, one grasshopper in particular. Now, I don’t want you to think that Ugandans eat a diet consisting of grubs and such items straight out of the Lion King. But, let’s be honest, some of these buggers (see what I did there?) are a good source of protein. So, when Aaron excitedly came home with a bag of deep-fried chilli-coated grasshoppers, my initial reaction was… no way man! This took me by surprise, as I’m quite adventurous when it comes to trying new foods – plus I’d eaten ants and cockroaches dipped in chocolate previously, so this one seemed pretty tame. But, Aaron persisted. And after a few attempts, I finally gave in. Not because he’d finally convinced me that they were most certainly a delicious snack, but because he used the most persuasive words any youngest sibling knows* – I dare you to eat it. This was then followed by I’m going to film it – which is equally as influential in my decision-making process.

Photo credit: Aaron Wolf

So, I reluctantly agreed to this challenge. There was resistance, moments of uncertainty, ridiculously over-exaggerated squirms and faces, but overall, not a bad experience. And, lucky for you, you can see for yourself.

Would I willingly seek them out for everyday consumption? Probably not. But, it was an experience I’m glad I accepted. There’s still a number of those suckers left, and sitting patiently in a plastic container, with their beady little eyes looking innocently at me any time I take a peek. It’s potato chips only, for this girl.

-the Orange Canadian

*Aaron is not my sibling.

Farmers, Feelin’ Flu-ish, Friends and Another Phone Down the Drain

It’s been an interesting week. For starters, I finally – kind of – know what I’ll be doing over the next 6 months. I’ve also narrowed down the long and ever-growing list of potential projects I’d like to focus my time on. This coming week, our Executive Director will be in the office, so I’ll have more time to sit down with her and talk out my ideas. But until then, I’ll be helping out with upcoming workshops and learning more about Agricultural Extension in Uganda.

Anyway, this week in the office mostly consisted of reading, researching, and writing – three things I really enjoy. I was also able to attend the launch of the 2015 Farmer’s Manifesto. As many of you likely don’t know, it’s election time here in Uganda. So, the purpose of this Manifesto was to unveil the top 5 concerns Ugandan farmers are facing, and what they’d like to see their next government tackle. This made for an interesting dialogue, as it emphasized the need to support small-scale farmers, while also highlighting the every day struggles in the agricultural sector across the country. I was shocked to learn that 80% of the workforce in Uganda is in agriculture, but that only 4% of the National budget is dedicated to supporting this sector. Coming from an agricultural province, and knowing the plight of many of the farming operations there, put things into perspective for me. And, this actually linked to one of my potential projects – linking older farmers with youth interested in pursuing careers in agriculture. This lead to an interesting discussion with Aaron when I got home, as we both agreed that this could be a useful tool in Nova Scotia, as well. It could potentially be beneficial for the government to support agricultural apprenticeships for young people wanting to begin careers in this sector. This would be particularly beneficial, given that so many of our family-run farms are struggling to sell their operations.

(Photo credit: ActionAid)

(Photo Credit: Food Rights Alliance)

The week also saw some pretty intense rainstorms, accompanied by some even more intense thunder! Thursday I was caught in the rain on my walk to work. I, being a lover of rain, found this to be quite exciting. I had many locals waving me in to take cover, but I was so close to the office, I decided to continue. Looking back, accepting these invitations might have been a much wiser decision. Why, you ask? Well, because my (new) phone does not appear to have the same level of enjoyment for the rain as I do. And, as a result, spent the following two days in a bag of rice in an attempt to remove the water it slurped up on this walk. It’s not completely useless… yet. But, with a just barely functioning screen, it will have to be replaced at some point. Technology is not my friend. Friday also saw another incredible storm, but this one was, at least, from the protection of the office!

But, the real highlight of the week was our first Movie Night. A couple of friends from my office, and a few other friends stopped by our place for a Halloween celebration. We had intended to watch a scary movie, but instead ended up watching what was supposed to be a film about a psychopathic child, but might have actually been a conspiracy flick about a very disturbing government cover-up. I still have many questions left unanswered. At least we all had a good chuckle about the whole thing!

That’s all for now!

-the Orange Canadian