Bloody hell

I remember vividly trying to catch dragonflies (tutubing karayom kind) that flittered to and fro among the cattail-like aquatic plants in the canal beside our house. Then my mother called me saying that I should stop going near the water as there could be mosquitoes which might bite me and give me H fever, which had afflicted one of my playmates who lived a few doors away. Fast forward 12 years later and I find myself in a dingy lab at one of the pavilions of Palma Hall (Pav 4 I think). It's quite hard to maintain the accuracy of measuring reagents for an experiment while a swarm of mosquitoes is pestering you to no end. I distinctly recall being bitten numerous times. But I never realized that one tiny bite would lead to such a bloody mishap for me.

Yup, I got dengue from a mosquito lurking in the dark corners of the U.P. campus. In the 90s, dengue was already on the upsurge in the tropics. The dormer in me, who never knew the symptoms and who always practised self-medication, was content with popping paracetamol pills which turned out to be ineffective. A bloody headache that accompanied the very high fever that did not want to go away was what caused me to avail of the 'crappy' facilities of the infirmary. The doctor took just one look from the rashes that appeared out of nowhere as he conducted the tourniquet test on my arm and then said that I should contact my parents because I had dengue. Really nice timing. It was exams week. How could I possibly study microbiology inside the hospital! (easy with all the germs inside right?)

Well, things were just going to be more grievous as I had to spend a night in the infirmary...but no...I was awakened in the middle of night to be transferred to a real hospital because they did not have the proper instrumentation to monitor my platelet count. So I was rushed to Capitol Medical Center in a cab only to find out there were no private rooms available and I had to content myself with the ward. I think that first night actually aggravated my condition as I was lumped together with other dengue victims who were either being transfused with blood or were vomiting blood. This aside from the fact that the airconditioning was super cold and they did not provide me with proper protection from the freezing temperature.

The next day I did get transferred to my own room. And that's when the real horror began. They had to get blood from me every hour to determine my platelet count. Collapsing veins nonetheless, my 10 fingertips proved useful for bloodletting. And this was during the time when lancets were not of the automatic push button kind yet! Blood stored in the bank - check. Vitamins and antibiotics injected straight to the IV - check. Itchy rashes in my appendages - check . Bad hospital food - check. After a few days, my platelet count was surging back to the normal level. Or so I thought. While reading the newspaper, I suddenly felt blood trickling from my nose. The gush didn't stop immediately and I had to be assisted to the bathroom. That was when I really cried because I realized I might undergo blood transfusion and I was not really fond of the idea of having alien blood penetrate my vessels. What if it came from a criminal? Or from one with a strange disease? My thoughts were really grim at that point so much so that my body made a quick turnaround and triumphantly got rid of the virus. How's that for immunity! (alab ng dugo ika nga...)

My dengue experience served many purposes. One, I realized that I had a very high threshold for pain. Two, I lost weight (for some time only hahaha). Three, I could no longer be a blood donor as I was already considered 'contaminated'. Four, I abhorred mosquitoes with a vengeance such that I began protecting spiders that preyed on them. Fifth, I learned how costly it was to be confined in a private hospital and vowed to stay healthy for the rest of my life (well, I haven't been confined since that time). Sixth, I was able to study for a major exam in just one day. Never knew I had such capability (I usually just threw caution to the wind and guessed hahaha).

So what prompted me to write this piece? Last Friday, an officemate was actually talking about how her home was located in a hotspot. Unluckily, it turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy so to speak as she and her husband got dengue over the weekend. Not many people know that there is no cure for dengue. In this instance, an ounce of prevention is indeed better than a pound of cure. In the meantime, I would shy away from watering holes...

"The appetite is sharpened by the first bites."
José Protacio Mercado Rizal Alonso y Realonda