Día de la muerte de Kátie

I literally thought I was going to die the fourth night I was here. My glands were so swollen I couldn't move my neck. I had chills because I had a fever. I couldn't see the light. 

After a minor break down in the international office trying to communicate in Spanish my imminent death, I was told that the doctors made home visits. Literally, ambulances come to your house just so they can prescribe you some of them fine drugs.

I was sort of livid because I had called my doctor before I left on this trip to see if she could give me a z-pack in the event that this did happen to me, but no. 

I really did try to self medicate the first two days upon feeling ill. Thank goodness I had my netty pot, lemons, garlic, and salt water to gargle. 

I don't even think it was the throat part that was so terrible. The fact that there is no central heating, and all of the windows have huge cracks and it's 30 degrees outside on top of having a fever was probably when I lost all hope. All I needed was a big fat antibiotic and I was okay. 

Needless to say, if I ever need medical attention again, I can handle it in Spanish.