Hours later, however, I began feeling even worse. Again, the symptoms were very similar to Dengue. For 15 minutes I would be sweating immensely, the next 15 minutes I would be shivering. As I tried to eat some soup, I began sweating a river. It was if I had just come back from my daily jogs. I became scared and told my host mother that I wanted to go to the clinic. In somewhat of an argumentative manner, she told me not to worry that it was fever and not Dengue. Still, I wanted to make sure and explained to her that perhaps my body was not accustomed to the diseases here in the Dominican Republic. Apparently, I offended her. At that moment though, I could’ve cared less. My host brother walked me to the closest clinic, where things only became more confusing.
When I reached the clinic and after explaining to them the symptoms, they thought it would be best that I stayed the night. He left home to tell his mother, who called my boss, and both arrived to see me. At first, they were telling me that I shouldn’t stay because I would be fine, and that it would cost a lot of money. However, as I began to leave I became extremely nauseous and asked for a bucket. I puked up the soup that I had eaten earlier. After that, my boss suggested that I stay, that the nurses would take care of me. At that point, I was confused and didn’t know what I wanted or what I should do. Ultimately, they convinced me to stay. Of course, on the way to my room I puked some more.
When I finally rested my head on my new bed in the clinic, it was then that I realized that my boss called all my co-workers to tell them that I was sick. However, it wasn’t because she thought that they would be worried, but rather it was a reason for them to laugh at me. One of them even came to the clinic herself to make fun of me to my face. She kept saying, “Benjamin, you have Dengue and you’re going to die here.” It was a joke to the Dominicans that a poor American thought that he had contracted Dengue. So, for about an hour my host mother, boss, and co-worker joked amongst themselves at my expense, telling me that I’m going to die and will never see my country again. Obviously, though I knew by then that I didn’t have Dengue, I wasn’t very amused.
When they finished laughing at me, they left me to sleep in the clinic. I watched the Lord of the Rings to prevent the inevitable…trying to sleep. The nurse who told me that I could knock on her door for anything had fallen asleep herself (I was hoping she could give me some drugs). My body was still in lots of pain. I spent the next hour and a half rolling in my bed and making frequent trips to the bathroom. They woke me early up the next morning and stuck me with a bunch of needles for some tests. Finally, after six more hours of rolling around in my bed, the doctors concluded that all I had was a fever and sent me on my way…but with a hefty bill. 5,400 pesos or 142 American dollars! For one night. For a TV controller that barely worked. For tests that told me something I already knew. For a nurse that fell asleep earlier than I did. For a bunch of Dominicans to laugh at me. For a bag of IV that I’m pretty sure was just water. 142 American dollars. And no drugs.
Hato Mayor, Dominican Republic, Benjamin Brennan
