We hear the stories and warnings for people traveling to foreign countries cautioning about situations which could possibly get you sick: “Do not eat street food” or “Don’t drink the water.”
Despite listening and carefully heeding this advice, I still somehow ended up as a guest in a South American hospital. Never in my life did I think while trying to learn to speak Spanish one summer in Bolivia, I would manage to land myself in a Bolivian hospital with no ability to communicate with the doctors and nurses.
Of course, it is important to note this hospitalization was entirely self-inflicted--the result of a very bad habit of biting my nails, made worse by the dryness in the air, and unfortunately, the threat of getting sick was not enough to stop me.
Some people, like my mom, have the incredible gift to easily pick up languages, I, however, do not. I skated through Spanish in high school thanks to Florida Virtual School, my friends, and their bilingual talents. Fortunately, I have an auditory memory making it easy for me to remember what I hear.
With this in mind, my parents and I had the bright idea to see if immersion would be the answer to my language hindrance. The summer before my junior year of high school, I traveled to Bolivia to stay with family friends in hopes of picking up the Spanish language. Did I become bilingual? FAR FROM IT. Instead, I ended up in a Bolivian hospital on their Independence Day with guns being shot off in the street and a bad case of gastroenteritis thanks to my horrible habit.
The only bright side: I had a valid excuse for binging Grey’s Anatomy - the only show which seemed to be broadcasted in English.
When traveling to Bolivia, I had several expectations in mind: I would pick up Spanish, go on wonderful hikes and become a more adventurous person. Ending up in a hospital was nowhere on my bucket list. My expectation for adventure, however, was met.
Driving in Bolivia is what I imagine a car chase sequence in an action movie must feel like: terrifying, fast, and thrilling. Drivers view traffic lights as mere suggestions and seatbelts--forget about them. They don’t exist there. Every time I got in the car with a teenager driving I felt my life flash before my eyes, but in the most exciting way.
In hindsight, it is no surprise I ended up in a hospital. If it wasn’t for gastroenteritis, it would have been from a car crash.
While in Bolivia, I had a Spanish tutor who spent six hours a day with me Monday through Friday. Part of my instruction included traveling around the city with her using terms I learned from class and applying them to real-world situations.
One day, I noticed I was feeling extremely nauseous. I could barely keep my head up, and the room felt as though it was spinning around me. My chest felt so heavy I couldn’t breathe. Add to that a debilitating pain searing through my stomach. I thought I would pass out. Needless to say, that lesson ended relatively early.
I went to bed hoping to sleep it off, but within seconds, I ran to the bathroom projectile vomiting into the toilet. Sorry if that is a disgusting image, but it’s true. This god-awful condition would persist throughout the entire afternoon. It turns out that whatever germs and bacteria were hiding under my fingernails were wreaking havoc on my digestive system.
I thought whatever was ailing me would work its way out of my system in a day, but my host family was a bit more worried, partially due to my inability to keep water down. In retrospect, they were right, since at the rate I was going, I would have been dehydrated by the end of the night. My host father said if I threw up one more time, it was off to the hospital, making it clear there would be no arguing.
Not even an hour later, I was being driven to the best quality hospital in the city, thanks to my wonderful host family. If it wasn't for them, I would have found myself in a far worse situation.
I do not recall much about being admitted or the drive there, although I am sure I was terrified--remember crazy drivers. I do, however, remember having to call my mom using an app for international calling and having her talk to the nurse in Spanish to give permission to admit me and provide IV antibiotics. As you can guess, I did not get the language gene from my mom.
I felt so ashamed and guilty. Here I am in a foreign country trying to pick up a language, the opportunity of a lifetime, and I end up in a hospital. The IV machine wasn’t like the ones in the states. Instead, it was plugged into the wall with only a short 24-inch cord. Once hooked up to the IV, I couldn’t move around, let alone get up to go to the bathroom. You would think it would be common sense to enable the IV to be unplugged from the wall. But clearly, it wasn’t.
To make matters even more chaotic, without the ability to speak Spanish and my nurse’s inability to speak English, I was relegated to pantomiming my request to unplug the machine so I could relieve myself. I was thankful for my years of performing arts school.
My adventure in a Bolivian hospital only became more comical and frustrating over the next 24 hours.
Being hospitalized over Bolivia’s Independence Day meant the doctors were too afraid to travel to check on their patients. Apparently, some Bolivians celebrate the holiday by shooting guns into the air and doctors were literally worried for their safety.
By the time I was finally feeling better, I was not allowed to be released until a doctor came to check on me and unfortunately, there was a bit of a shortage in that department.
The craziest experience during my hospital stay: they fed me llama. No, I did not voluntarily eat this. They told me it was steak. Believe me when I tell you this, llama does not taste like steak--something I learned a little too late.
The good news is, being stuck in a hospital gave me ample time to binge on three seasons of Greys Anatomy. I also used this experience to bond with my host father and his daughter, two wonderful individuals who kept me company while in the hospital.
After being hospitalized it took me six months to tolerate coffee, and to this day, I still cannot stomach bananas since I had it for breakfast the day I got sick. Yes, it was entirely my fault I ended up in the hospital. If only I was able to stop biting my nails, a habit I still have today.
Something positive did come out of my hospital stint. It made for a great college application essay.
Bolivia is a beautiful country, one which I wish I was able to experience more fully. From their scenic mountains to salt flats which can be seen from space to their rich culture, the country has so much to offer. One day, I hope to make it back there without landing myself in a hospital.
