Let's start from the beginning. On Monday evening I felt bad, I had stomach and lower abdomen pain. I haven't felt especially well in Cusco due to lack of oxygen, and I had this kind of pain before. However, this time I knew it was more serious. I went to a 24-hour pharmacy at 1 am, when the pain was unsupportable. I explained my symptoms to the pharmacist and I got antibiotics. As my doctor told me later, the antibiotics were good for the symptoms I had, unfortunately I was alergic to two main ingredients. I was never alergic to anything in my life, apart from having a mild hayfever. I came back home and 15 minutes after taking the first tablet, my face swole. It did swell so much that I hardly could see - the whole area around my eyes was swollen. Then it came strong heart and stomach pain. I managed to get to Jhoel's room, luckily he was at home. When he saw my face, he got very scared, I looked like a monster. I went to the bathroom, he followed me. I set on the toilet and this was the moment when I saw death. I whispered to Jhoel "no quiero morir... I don't want to die..." and I started intensively thinking about my father in Poland who wouldn't survive my death and about friends close to my heart. I wanted to see them again. I strongly focused on these thoughts and I think they saved me.
My heart was beating slower and slower... until I didn't have a pulse any more.
I lost consciousness in Jhoel's arms. I had a beautiful dream - I was walking on the grass with some people, they were probably friends. I could see all their bodies apart from heads. I felt good and comfortable, we were laughing. The weather was fantastic, it was very warm and we walked towards a big light on the very blue sky, which in my dream I thought was sun emitting the wormth.
When I regained consciousness, Jhoel was all shaking, he was strongly slapping my face and resuscitating me for several minutes. He called neighbours, ambulance and the police. The ambulance never arrived so the police quickly gave me a lift to a private clinic. When we arrived I couldn't walk at all so I was given a wheelchair. They took me somewhere, to a room, and suddenly a lot of people started running around me. Two doctors diagnosed me with intoxication. I couldn't see any more - I was seeing only shapes of the people. All the rest was dark grey, like in a broken black and white TV. I tried to force myself to see but it didn't work. The doctors injected me with a lot of drugs and gave me a big dose of adrenaline as I still didn't have a pulse...
I vomited. My consciousness was on and off. After all the hard work of these people to save my life, they put me on a bed and pushed it to my room. I was spasmatically shaking with cold although it wasn't cold in the hospital. Jhoel was panically running around the bed, trying to put clothes on me and to find blankets.
I was admitted to the hospital at 3.30 am, Jhoel stayed with me for a while and he came back in the morning. When he came back, he asked for my family phone numbers, in case they would have to fly over to say goodby. What he said made me think even more about my father and friends.
The next day I had a chat with my doctor (well, I couldn't really talk as my throat was very narrow). He said that I had an extremely strong reaction to the medication I had bought and that I got to the hospital right on time, when little oxygen was still getting to my brain. Alergy to a medication (or anything else) causes skin itching which I also experienced, and body swelling. Your throat and the whole airway closes and eventually the brain doesn't get oxygen, this is the end.
I was lying in the intensive care unit, the monitor was ticking laudly to let the doctor know that my heart was beating. I still felt pain in the heart and stomach but the swell went down a little bit on the second day.
I find it very ironic - I have met a lot of travellers who were hospitalised in Ecuador or Peru because they ate ceviche - raw seafood, and they got really ill afterwards. Ceviche is a delicacy in these two countries but I had just one small portion in Manta, in Ecuador, because I didn't want to end up in a hospital....
I know my experience is very scary but I always see the bright side - I am learning how to appreciate life and I am hoping that my life will change for better because of the experience.
Another thing is (that surprises me a lot !) that if something like this happens to me, I consider it normal. I don't feel pity for myself and I don't think about coming back to Europe. I just move on with my life/travel and very quickly I forget about what happened. I am incredibly proud of myself for this kind of approach to the situations.
In the picture: having rest after the big shock.
