Dori Travel Blog› entry 27 of 50 › view all entries
The next morning, a friend drove us to the hospital. It was a bumpy ride, the hospital seemed to be in the middle of nowhere and as far as I've seen, there isn't a single paved road in Dori. Not much fun if your whole body aches allready. As expected, the doctor said I had malaria. He originally proposed to give me medicine through an IV, but as I have a fear of needles and didn't want to be immobilised completely, I prefered to just take pills. Besides the quinine to cure the malaria, the doctor prescribed paracetamol also to bring down the fever, and a syrup against nausea. After all it's no use taking pills if you just puke 'em out again, and one of the side effects of quinine for white people ("people who are not from here" the doctor phrased it) is nausea. Another side effect is ringing in your ears, but I hardly ever noticed that until I got back home. It's never that quiet in Africa.
The medicine worked well, but of course it took a couple of days. I stayed in the hotel, sleeping most of the time and sometimes getting up to read a book somewhere in the hotel, while my boyfriend went out to visit relatives.