Welcome the new year? 2006

What can I say, I’ve never been a holiday person, I’m more than willing to just ignore the whole thing and hope to hell it’s over with quickly. Well this year or should I say last year, what ever, such was not to be. Having a guest here at Trails End was really not a problem, this fellow was doing surveys of all the air strips in the region, so I only saw him in the morning and then for his evening meal which was no problem. Christmas day I had planned to just sit around the house and relax after doing the usual Sunday laundry, horse and dog washing, but Colette comes in and insists that I should come to Christmas dinner at their place with the family. This presents no problems since the guest won’t be back home before evening, and I more or less had the evening meal planned and under control. So I saddle up good ole Mr. Spic & Span, fresh from his bath, and ride out to Charlo and Colette’s. The first mistake I made was not leaving the house keys in the safe place just in case the guest returned early, 2^nd was taking the damn cell phone on the outside chance that good ole friend from Costa Rica might call, the reasoning was if he did then he would also be able to talk to the family.

Arriving at Charlos, manly tied under the mango trees happy to find the ground covered with mangos, Colette has the fire started for roast chicken, and I’m informed that there is also Pepper Pot for lunch. Ahhhh life is good after all.

Just as we are putting the finishing touches on the roast chicken, the phone rings……Gal from Georgetown, who has stayed at the B & B several times. “ Where are you, I need a room, how do I get to where your at, and do you have anything in the house to eat, I’m starving?”

I don’t believe this, you’ll have to call a taxi and have him bring you out here to pick up the house keys, there is some leftovers in the frig and that will have to do you till I get home to cook dinner.

The highlight of the day aside from the pepper pot was the look on Charlos face as he watched for the first time the presentation, Song of the Rupununi. Seeing his reaction told me that indeed I may have succeeded.

On arriving back home, I learn the gal had been in Boa Vista Christmas shopping and thought she could just be-boop back here and catch a quick plane, train, bus, or what ever back to GT. Well she was wrong of course, so I had to hear the whole sad tale of how her cell phone was on fire from her family calling wondering where the hell she was.

It should be noted here that I was already feeling not too hot, or rather very hot, decided that aches in my knees and such was just old age, and the hot and sweaty feeling along with the head ache was just stress.

Now the fun really starts, Monday after x-mas, I get up fix breakfast for the guest, and I have a raging head ache, and the poor ole knees feel like they’ve run miles. Never mind, saddle the horse head to the cyber café. A long about noon, I feel so rotten that I decide to just go back home, and Don ask how long it’s been since I was at Yupakari, exactly 2 weeks, “well you’d better go get a malaria smear, you’re running a fever, headache, sure sign.” That’s all fine and well except all the government offices are closed for the next 2 days because Christmas fell on a Sunday.

So I decide to just go home and feel bad till wed. I get home to find that the gal has gone out and I didn’t find the house keys in the usual place where I told her to leave them incase I came home early. Well the longer I stood there in the heat the madder I got, not a kid in sight to crawl through the kitchen window, so I do it my self. She comes in not 5 minutes later to inform me that the keys are right where I told her to put them, I just didn’t see them. She’s got a mini bus going to GT tonight so she’s heading home. Fine, the other guest comes in and I set his dinner on the table and tell him I’m sick and going to bed.

Tues, I spend the better part of the day in my hammock, sweating and burning with fever, and drinking water like crazy because now my back is killing me and I’ve talked my self into kidney stones.

Wed. finally rolls around, still feel terrible but at least I can get a malaria smear, promptly call a taxi and get that done, but decide to just stay home and rest. Results, Negative!

Thrus. Morning I feel like I’m going to die, but decide since the test was negative, all that is really wrong with me is I’ve laid around for the last three days and that is why my back and head now feel like a herd of elephants have walked on them. So get off your dead ass and saddle up and get to work. Lasted till about 10am, by this time I’m sick as a dog, sweat pouring, dizzy, you name it. So off to the hospital, where the medex tells me it sure sounds like Malaria but if the smear was negative, not sure what’s wrong, but here are some pills for the pain, and you should get re-tested in a day or so if you don’t get to feeling better. I decide to take another test before taking the pain pills. This time it’s positive. Ok, now the medicine. 4 white pills and a little brown one to start with. What they didn’t tell me was the 4 white things are the same thing that most people take one a week of to prevent malaria. These are the ones that cause all sorts of weird dreams and such, just taking them once a week. I have to take 10 of these things in 3 days. Now at night or about sundown not only do I pour sweat one minute, but the next I’m freezing to death, shaking, and seeing things if I close my eyes, and I haven’t even gone to bed yet. Hanging in the hammock under the benab, I am entertained by all sorts of stuff walking across my eyes, color bursts, what looks to be DNA chains and such floating and dancing around, and while all this is going on who should appear but the little lady from next door, who just happens to be a missionary. “Oh my you are sick, would you like me to come in and pray with you?”

“Sorry, I’m having too much fun watching this crazy show, and besides that sure the Lord has more to worry about than me and my bug., but thanks”……now please just go away and let me die in peace.

In drives the ram pilot and the guest, “just take the guy out and buy him something to eat, I too busy dying to cook for any one.”

Go to bed sure I’ll not see the light of day, but the dreams were such that I really didn’t care. It was kind of like watching those old news reels at the movies, except these were in 3D and full living color. Spielberg eat your heart out.

At one point in the night I set up wide awake, and look over at my bedroom window, remember the bar scene from the first Star Wars, “Oh well you guys just go ahead and party, I’m too sick to join in all the fun.”

Daylight and it seems I may still be here among the living, as I stagger to the kitchen to try to make some coffee and grab a smoke, damn cigarette makes me sicker than a dog, and proceed to have a good case of dry heaves, coffee just made it worse, so I stagger out to the porch to see if the fresh air will clear my head, in drives the ram pilot and my guest, who tells me he hopes I’m not offended but he stayed at another place last night, didn’t want to catch malaria. Can’t say as I blame him what with the party that went on here last night. Anyway Friday is a real treat, between being sick, and dizzy, and all the rest I manage to make it through the day only to receive a phone call asking if I have room for a guest who needs just a bed. “HELL NO” I would just like to die in peace and quiet.

Friday night is more or less a replay of the night before, except this time I know what to look for, and just lay back and enjoy.

Saturday…..New Years EVE, the time when I should have been toasting my fishing buddy, or just quietly getting smashed. Smashed is what I was, couldn’t stand more than long enough to make it to the bathroom. Then in comes Shirley with the guest, so I spend the evening on the patio, with her, afraid to go to bed because of the party that I’m sure will rival any that is going on in town.

I finally get brave about 1am. And go to bed to the neighbors loud music, and about 2am the fight starts, this is a good old fashion knock down drag out that last till they get tired about 4am.

New Years Day…..dawns and I’m just able to stagger in to the kitchen to try to make some coffee and grab the first cigarette of the day……no way, the damn thing makes me sick and I beat it to the bathroom. God I must really be sick, can’t smoke, can’t drink coffee may as well die and get it over with. The day is spent feeling totally sorry for my self, people in and out, “gee, sorry your sick, can we do anything to help, want a beer?” Hell I can’t even croak in peace. Anyway late in the evening I’m finally able to call good ole Peter, only to find out that he has spent the last 3 days on our trout stream and is getting ready to head out again in the morning. The DOG But I must say the call made me feel a little better, at least someone gets to go fishing.

Monday rolls around and now that I’m finished with the white pills and only on the one little pill the dreams have stopped, and I may live in spite of it all. And bless be, Mary, my helper returns. The place looks kind of like a disaster zone, but she is quick to get everything in order and makes sure I eat. Eat at least something every 3 or 4 hours, until I decide that food may be ok after all.

By Thru. Exactly one week after this whole thing started I decide I might brave going into the internet to at least check my mail. I last only an hour before I’m totally wiped out and have to come home.

I have slowly regained my sense of balance, and can eat and keep it down, and cigarettes are starting to taste ok again, I must be getting better.

I found the last few days have been productive as far as getting a lot done on the computer, cleaning out old files, storing away stuff that is not really needed, and sorting out my cd’s with backups of backups of backups. All in all it has been an experience I guess I had to have but have no desire to do again. Kind of reminds me of 2 years ago on my 63 birthday, when I smoked my first and only joint, tried it once and didn’t like it, so see no reason to do that again. Well I’ve had Malaria once now, and see no need to have this again EVER.

Rest assured Shefishs is alive and still kicking, and recovering.

Happy New Year January 8, 2006