So yesterday, the day of the walking, I was sure I had malaria. I didn't say because, well, I'm sick of worrying friends and family with my malarial outbreaks, but I had fevers, my legs were killing me, I was dizzy all day, every step through that mud was agony and I was so cold I could've been wearing a down parka and I would've been shivering. It was mis-er-a-ble. With a capital M. So I went to bed last night convinced I was going to wake up with the metallic feeling I get when I know I need to get tested.
Instead, nothing. I wake up feeling, if not great, at least good. No fever, legs a-ok, eyeballs no longer sore. I dodged the bullet!
And then, I'm sitting working on a budget with the Area Coordinator out here. I notice he's shaking and sweating at the same time. And looks a bit dazed. Sure enough, even though he was healthy as a horse yesterday, today, he tests totally positive for malaria. His first, poor little lamb.
I totally think I gave him mine. That's a power I didn't even know I had.
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