Dropping Like Flies

This story actually begins the same day as my last blog, the one about the church potluck. That evening Willard takes ill. At first he thinks he ate something he shouldn’t have, but then he succumbs to horrible chills and fever. We have no blankets or warm clothing here because we thought we wouldn’t need them in a constant 80 degree climate. So I hug him all night long, trying to warm him up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so sick. Meanwhile I don’t feel great either. I have a low-grade fever and I am waiting for my turn to go down. I go to work, worried about Willard, and trying to get as much done as I can so I don’t drop too many balls when it becomes my turn to take ill. My condition doesn’t really worsen, not to the point of sick-leave, but when I get home, Willard looks worse. His eyes are bloodshot and he still has a severe headache and a fever. He’s taking ibuprofen by the handful.

At work the next day we find out there is a mandatory assembly. The hospital is coming to talk to the student body about dengue fever because they have a confirmed case on the island. You get the disease from a mosquito that has bitten another person with dengue. They tell us to get rid of all standing water, whether it is in a planter, an empty container, whatever. They’re talking to people who live on an island with puddles everywhere! Symptoms? High fever, bloodshot eyes, rash, and on and on. It goes on for about three weeks. How to treat? Tylenol and lots of fluids – and NEVER take ibuprofen!

Needless to say, I am immediately off to the store to buy Tylenol and Gatorade in a rainbow of flavors. I make the 40 minute drive, praying all the way and kicking myself for going to work. When I get there, Willard is upright, eating, and his eyes are clear. He still has a fever but he looks like he is going to live and there is no rash so I don’t think he has dengue. The bloodshot eyes were probably from too much ibuprofen. About Friday we both feel better and think we have had some sort of flu, he on a much worse level than me.

By this time however, the folks at work have started to fall. First is our fifth grade teacher, Krista, who takes ill on Thursday. They take her to the hospital for blood-work; she doesn’t have dengue – she has the Willard Flu. Our office manager, James, steps up and covers her class. On Monday Kathy and I step into the office to find our health teacher, Katie, sitting in the chair with an obviously high fever. Kathy takes it, it’s 103. The kindergarten teacher is awesome and she works to nurse Katie. I call Willard and he drives in to cover her classes: Pacific Studies, Medieval Civilization, Health, and Geometry. We take her to the hospital for blood-work – she HAS dengue. There are now 70 confirmed cases, including three of our students. By the end of the school day our pre-school teacher and one of our TAs has gone home sick as well. It’s crazy because there really isn’t a substitute pool here. Everyone is pitching in and covering everywhere.

Just as the school day ends we get word that the hospital wants to admit Katie. Kathy tells me to go over there and GET HER OUT because if we don’t, we’ll have to take turns sleeping on a mat on the floor beside her. That’s the way it is. She is in a small room, just inside the emergency area. It is not a hospital room – just a room. It has a small bank of lockers where the employees change and stash their stuff. There is a broken down futon/couch that Katie and a friend are on, and a dental-type chair that is another person is on/in. The other person is a WorldTeach teacher from the public high school and she is hooked up to an I.V. She, too, has dengue and after a few minutes they take her to a ward because they feel she might have one of the more serious of the four strains. Now Katie takes the dental chair contraption. No change of sheets or anything, just plop into the chair. There’s an I.V. pole that’s missing a wheel or two but no I.V. This is where she is supposed to spend the night because there are no more available beds. We wait. While we wait, a young man who is a hospital employee of some kind (LPN?) comes in, sits and visits. He is holding a hypodermic needle for drawing blood and he’s playing with it. Off, on, off, on pops the cap intended to keep the needle sterile. He pushes the plunger and pulls it out – he is oblivious and I want to yell – DON’T USE THAT ON ANYBODY but he doesn’t speak English and I am frozen in horror. When the doctor comes in, he comes across as knowledgeable and capable. He wants her to stay because she has the rash. But I am determined; we WILL take care of her. We will keep her fed and hydrated and will return her if the symptoms worsen. She signs the waiver and we leave. She lives on campus and I know the other teachers and her boyfriend will tend to her. The doctor writes her a prescription for Tylenol because that’s now the only way you can get it here. Every shelf in every store has been wiped clean of both Tylenol and mosquito repellent.

It was fortuitous that on the same day a young Lebanese couple comes in to introduce themselves to me. The man has taught at the local community college for a while and has a new bride. She hands me a resume and tells me she is a biochemistry major who has both taught school and worked in hospitals and she is interested in a job. I am thinking I’d love to hire her but have no money for a new teacher. I ask her about subbing and summer school and she seems enthusiastic. It is not two hours later that I call her and offer her $20 to come in the next day and cover for Katie. Willard can’t cover her anymore because now he is the P.E. teacher. Mack is off-island for a funeral and Willard is doing calisthenics with the high school students and zombie relays with the kindergarteners. She comes in and is terrific. I hope to hire her! We check on Katie. She has returned to the hospital and her blood work looks better. There are now 150 confirmed cases.

I am happy to say that so far this small staff is surviving the flu and dengue crisis. It will be interesting to see what awaits us next week. I can tell you this: my work here is NOT dull, and it is paradise as long as you don’t get sick and have to go to the hospital!

On another note, some of you have asked what you can send. Books! Our high school library is severely lacking in material that would be fun and age-appropriate for them to read. Any appropriate novels, biographies, etc. would be highly welcomed. If you put them in a flat-rate box you can ship them to:

Becky Lathrop

Majuro Cooperative High School

P.O. Box 81

Majuro, MH 96960

Thanks for reading and take care! It’s Saturday - I am off to a bingo fundraiser and Willard is staying here, waiting to see if the Internet folks show up to hook us up and to sand a board for the church sign. Love to you all, Becky

Here are all the ladies playing Bingo. There were tables too (thankfully) but many of them played like this for over six hours using pennies, shells, rocks, etc. for markers. One lady told me I am now a "Real Island Girl" because I played Bingo with them!