|Sorry, but this is the only photo we have for today. It’s important for travelers to be reminded not to walk or step onto any grates, manhole covers, or the like when walking in a foreign country. Many years ago, a friend fell into a grate which resulted in a compound leg fracture requiring a US $25,000 fee for an air ambulance ride back to the US from Mexico. That was 30 years ago. Imagine how much it would be in today’s dollars! They had to borrow from family and friend’s credit cards to pay the fee in advance! As a result, both Tom and I do not step on grates or manhole covers which are everywhere in the souk, the Medina, and the streets of Morocco. We ask our readers to consider taking this same precaution, even at home.|
Last night, we became very worried. The illness had escalated. I could hardly walk across the room or pick up my head from the pillow.
Without a morsel of food in 24 hours, unable to eat, we asked that Madame Zahra makes two, three-egg omelets with cheese with unseasoned meatballs with no veggies and no seasonings. For Tom, she added, “chips” (French fries) and bread. An innocuous seasoning-free meal.
When Tom didn’t like his omelet saying something tasted “funny” and with so little of the food suitable for me, I ate both omelets. It wasn’t hunger as much as it was needed. Never in my life, did I eat six eggs in one sitting until last night. My body must have been craving the protein, especially when I gobbled up my share of the meatballs.
The thought of one more bite of Moroccan spices turned my stomach. Somehow, after becoming ill a few days after arriving in Morocco, I now associate the spices with the illness.
Feeling hot and cold all day, left me sweating by 10:00 pm last night and I went to bed with the room spinning. As I lay there alone (Tom was still downstairs) I realized that Friday was too long a wait to take the Cipro. My plan of letting this illness work itself out had failed. I couldn’t take another day.
I called to Tom from the upstairs railing down to the courtyard below for him to bring me some iced water. I dug out the full bottle of Cipro from the pill bag, holding a large oval-shaped white pill in my hand, praying a three to five-day dose would help. When Tom handed me the ice water, I chugged it down. He tucked me in bed under the comfy covers.
Being ill and lying around for days, I’d already read all of the books on the Kindle app on my phone except for a few non-fiction scientific books I had started and yet to finish. There’s nothing like scientific research to lull one off to sleep. An hour later, the phone fell out of my hand startling me awake. It was 11:45, one hour and 45 minutes after I’d taken the pill.
This may sound utterly ridiculous, but I felt slightly better. The lightheadedness was improved and although my mouth was terribly dry, the feeling of toxic fluids running through my system was greatly reduced. Many may call this a placebo effect. This was no placebo. This was Cipro running through my system sucking up a raging infection.
No longer did I think about having malaria. I was on the mend. I smiled from ear to ear, easily falling back to sleep and not awakening until almost 8:00 am this morning. Now, I won’t say I’m 100% better, but, I’m 50% better, a sizable improvement.
After this morning’s dose, I still have four more doses to take if I’m going with the three-day regime which the instructions indicate is acceptable if the symptoms have subsided after twice-daily dosing for a total of six pills. At this point, at noon on Wednesday, I’m fairly confident I will return to good health by the last dose on Friday morning.
Today, desperately needing to move about, we’re heading out for lunch to the same restaurant we visited last week PepeNero. Ah, who cares about trying something new? I surely could use a perfectly cooked piece of salmon and a few sautéed vegetables. Tom’s chomping at the bit for a Moroccan seasoning-free meal.
Don’t get me wrong, I do like Moroccan seasonings. But, with my illness and our unfamiliar taste buds, the spicy flavors become redundant after so many weeks. Most tourists enjoy the flavors for one or two weeks during their holidays. For the long term, it’s an acquired taste that neither of us has achieved at this point nor do we expect that we will be going forward.
The long walk to PepeNero today is a bit intimidating. We’ll take it slow, stopping from time to time to take photos. The fresh air and sunlight will do us both good after being cooped up for the past four days.
Soon, we’ll reschedule our sightseeing trip and our upcoming out of town stay for mid-April. For now, I need to get back to doing the taxes and feeling well. Whew! We continue on, dear readers. We continue on…