Home

Sarah had not been feeling well for quite a while. Severe headaches, sickness and blurred vision. I broke a tooth while out to lunch the other day too. It doesn’t hurt but a visit to a dentist may be on the cards. Before I left home, I had all the vaccinations I was told by the doctors were needed. On arguing with Sarah about the time between boosters for Hepatitis, we realised I had only been inoculated against Hep A. Hepatitus B is strongly advised here, especially if I’m going to be having any dental work done. Hep C should also be done but I’ll get that if I go into the GU clinic back home and say I’ve been a naughty boy over here. That opportunity has not yet presented itself and I will be very careful to use condoms. I will probably risk only using one at a time however. The “double bagging” method might result in an experience akin to that “flup flup” noise you hear when trucks with loose tarpaulins pass! Two reasons then, for us to visit the local hospital clinic. With Sarah possibly having Malaria and my need for jags, we set off to Nyaho Clinic. She warned me not to be put off by the basic nature of the place. At first arrival, it seemed relatively Western. A car park with guards. Not the British NCP car park attendant that limps up shouting “you cannae park there” This guard was full of smiles. Just as well, given the large truncheon he was wielding. I say truncheon, but it was more like a sawn off baseball bat. We parked up and headed to the reception desk. Sarah has BUPA Gold cover. I have travel insurance but this only applies if something has actually happened to me. Besides, I was told it would be very cheap. As we sat, Sarah explained that we had come along at night because day times here are pandemonium. There were a few people milling about, but essentially we were the only customers. I had tried to explain to the man at the desk that I only wanted the injection. He insisted that I must be...

Read more...