An additional cost of traveling to Africa? Vaccinations. I visited my local travel clinic today for my consult and required shots and pills. The CDC recommends at least seven vaccinations: MMR, Tdap, Hep A, Hep B, Typhoid, Polio, and Rabies. Yellow Fever is required but only if traveling from a country with risk of YFV transmission and at least one year of age or older. Thanks to my dutiful parents, I already had my MMR, Hep A, Hep B and Polio vaccinations. Thanks to my semester abroad in Nepal, I already had my Rabies vaccination (as well as my Japanese Encephalitis shots). :) What was left? An updated DPT, Typhoid and Malaria pills.
First off, the Tdap. For some reason, I have always equated the Tdap with pain. My memory was partially correct; the shot itself doesn't hurt (perhaps that was due to my nurse's skill) but the pain afterward was-and is not so fun. I currently feel as if my arm is both asleep and experiencing a dull pain. Per my information sheet, however, I should only get worried if I experience swelling, severe pain and redness in the arm where the shot was given. At this point, I'm in the clear.
Second off, malaria pills. Per the CDC, you need to take malaria pills if you will be below 1,800 m. The town that I will be staying in before and after the climb, Arusha, is 1,400m. Darn. I guess that means I need to take the pills. The nurse wanted to prescribe me Chloroquine, but alas, the CDC provides a nice little note that states: Chloroquine is NOT an effective antimalarial drug in Tanzania and should not be taken to prevent malaria in this region. Darn you Tanzanian mosquitoes! You have overpowered the drugs! Never fear, Atovaquone-proguanil, doxycycline, or mefloquine are still here. The nurse began to rattle off the various pros and cons of each brand, but I lost track around the fourth side effect. We'll see what she eventually suggests after she confers with the doctor.
Third off, typhoid. Oh, I have such sweet memories of the little pills. NOT! Let me explain. My family and I ventured to Kenya when I was 13 years old. To prepare for the trip, we had to take these four little pink and orange typhoid capsules. This wouldn't be a big deal save for the fact that I couldn't swallow pills. I remember locking myself in my bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror and stating, "You can do this K!" My little pep talk never worked. In the end, I fearfully BURIED two of the four pills in my backyard. I don't remember what I did with the other two; I either chewed them or flushed them down the toilet. I headed off to Africa with a prayer to God, "Please don't let me catch Typhoid, please don't let me catch Typhoid."
Although I did get sick on the trip, I did not acquire Typhoid. When we were safely back in the U.S., I wrote a letter to my parents, admitting my "mistake." I told my parents that they could disown me if they wanted to. I dropped the letter on our kitchen's island, ran up to my room, slammed the door shut, flung myself on my bed and started to cry. Oh, to be 13. God bless my parents, they were not angry in the slightest. Well, maybe just a little, but they didn't take it out on me. Thanks mom and dad!
Now fast forward 18 years. I finally know how to swallow pills. The nurse gave me the option of the typhoid shot or my best friends, the little orange and pink pills. I think I'm ready to redeem myself: bring on the pills!
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