Bedus Tremulus
People, even some of you, ask us about the health care in Mexico, usually suspecting it is horrid. As we have said in previous postings, to the contrary the health care here is excellent. We have spoken about the Clinica Santa Rosa which is almost like a hospital; it is a wonderful place of serenity. It is where I had my knee scoped a while back. Dr. Victor is at least as good as any of our folks across the Rio Bravo. And he actually does things like taking temperature, blood pressure, blood samples, etc., himself. I often wonder if our docs could do anything without their phalanxes of nurses and assistants. Dr.V even does much of his paperwork.
Mrs. T was ill, of that I had no doubt. It came on quite literally overnight. I had a scratchy throat for a couple of days and was prepping myself for the typical next phases – head congestion, lung congestion, dissipation of energy, general malaise, and then slow recovery; I have been down the same path before. However, the speed and severity with which R was cut down was downright scary. I know she would say that I did not believe her complaints, but we really had not encountered something like this. She was fine at dinner and even later, and by breakfast she was hacking up a storm and could not breathe.
Like the US and Canada, Mexico is in the middle of a flu epidemic. But we had our annual inoculations in October before we came. We soon decided we need to see Dr. Victor. Unfortunately he would not be in until about 1pm. So we took a taxi to the clinic in the afternoon only to discover that he was delayed in his return from Guadalajara. So Rebecca decided to lay down on the first available bed rather than going back home. Here is her story:
I was sick. I had a very high fever. I was in extreme pain. I had difficulty breathing. In fact I was blue. I did not realize it at the time but my face was blue. I supplied Dr. Victor with these facts. "She really does not have a high fever," Dan contradicted. Both Dr. Victor and I looked at him in amazement. Note to self – never allow someone with small fiber peripheral neuropathy (this is not from diabetes –dt) to make judgments about your temperature based on his feeling your head!! (Okay. Whoa. The editor needs to interject some comments here. I have told the patient many times that I do not think feeling the forehead is a good way to gauge fever. No, I am not good at the forehead test, not because of my neuropathy but because of meds. I did tell her she had a fever because her ears were red. More importantly, due to ever mysterious variations of her hormones, the patient's temperature is in constant fluxion. –dt) Dr. Victor held the back of his hand to my forehead. "You have influenza, H1N1," Dr. Victor declared. "I can treat this; you will be OK!" "I can't believe it is H1N1." the Voodoo Doctor interjected. "We had flu shots for that." (I did not doubt Dr.V any more than any other doc, but I was dismayed –dt) N.B.: The Voodoo Doctor a.k.a. Dan has a tendency to practice medicine without a license but he is actually often right. "I have seen this before; it is H1N1," Dr. Victor repeated.
Dr. Victor stuck my finger in the oxygen finger thingy. It is supposed to be 97 or 98; my number was in the low 80s. "I need to get you on an IV," Dr. Victor stated. Of the two opinions stated I was going with his. "Maybe you have a mutated strain of H1N1," the Voodoo Doctor suggested. When you have a high fever and haven't slept for a couple of days you sometimes have strange thoughts. There are those who claim I always have strange thoughts but we will ignore them. I was lying down breathing steam that smelled a lot like Vicks VapoRub through a mask. With each breath I took little curls of steam escaped. This is what it is like to be a dragon I thought. The Voodoo Doctor maintains I would not have gotten so sick if I had smeared the smelly stuff on my chest at the first sign of trouble. (We VD's cannot endorse a specific brand, but feel that a mentholated chest rub should always be in our medicine kit. Mrs.T claims I have too much fun putting it on her. –dt) Between taking dragon breaths I noticed a low pitched grumbling sound. It would continue for a few seconds and then subside. At this time I did not realize that the sound was in any way connected to THE BED.
It was later, after all the medicines had been given and all the machines attached, I was rolling around trying to find a comfortable position when the noise started again. I had my hand on the rail of the bed and so I finally understood that noise was not shaking the bed as I had previously thought. The noise was actually the bed shaking. I thought about this for a while. As I tried to relax I noticed that the bed was actually starting to snuggle up around me. "Don't get fresh, Bed!" I commanded. This was all I needed on top of everything else. Then I remembered that my niece Kate had a bed like this when she was in the hospital. The bed fitted itself to you to make you more comfortable. I rolled on my side to see what the bed would do. About ten seconds later the bed shook slightly and rumbled a bit and began fitting itself to my new position. Hmm. I waited until the bed had stopped and rolled onto the other side. A few seconds later the bed began making adjustments. Have you ever tried to stay completely still for any period of time? I lay flat on my back trying not to move while considering the bed's intentions. The bed made no further moves, but I knew it was waiting.
Suppose the bed overdid it and completely surrounded me. I thought about a possible movie titled "The Bed of Doctor Moreau!" Maybe if I move very slowly the bed won't notice I thought. I eased slowly into another position. Ten seconds later the bed began to move.
About this time Dr. Victor came back to check on me. "Did the medicine help your pain?" he asked. "It helped some," I replied. "You look a lot better, your face is not so blue," the doctor reported. This was the first I knew that my face was blue. "Your oxygen is higher," he explained. I looked at the monitor and saw that the oxygen number had risen from 82 to 93. "Do you know your bed moves?" I asked. If the doctor was troubled by this question he did not show it. In fact, he did not respond at all. "If you need anything else push the bell," the doctor said and he left.
I was left alone in the dark with the bed. I wondered what would happen if instead of moving my whole body I only moved one leg. I moved my right leg about six inches closer to the side of the bed. It seemed to take longer than usual as the bed considered this. Then instead of its normal rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble the bed went putta-putta and stopped. The mattress slowly oozed around my leg. For a while I experimented moving various body parts to see what the bed would do. I found the putta-putta less alarming than the rumbles. I could move small body parts with no reaction occurring. I could reach up and turn over the pillow with one hand and the bed did not respond.
I tired of playing with the bed and resumed rolling around trying to find a comfortable position. The bed seemed to have backed off and was only making minimal responses. "OK Bed, I won't bother you if you don't bother me." I seemed to perceive unspoken acceptance. The next day when more of my medical signs had edged towards normal Dr. Victor asked if I would like to return home to recuperate in my own bed. What a lovely idea.
The rest of the recovery did not occur exclusively at home. For one thing your humble editor had indeed become ill as predicted and had some of the same symptoms at Mrs. T. Fortunately it was a lower grade situation, but debilitating nonetheless. So for the next five days we went to the clinic where Dr. V played darts with our backsides. Now Mrs.T is almost back to normal and I am over the hump but still not at full strength. I suggested she would still benefit from chest medication. I hope she doesn't want one of those wonder beds; we just bought a new tilting model last summer.
No pictures this time. We will let your imagination fill in.
For those of you suffering through the brutal cold again, and probably even worse next week --- STAY WARM!
Dan and Rebecca
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