Diarreia

Has a whole new meaning outside of America. For my first couple weeks in Xai Xai, I had diarreia. I should have called PCMO but didn't because I figured it would pass, and because it was only once a day. Anyway, New Year's Eve, Emily and I chowed down on some buttered mashed potatoes with buttered chicken and more buttered stuff. Oh did I pay for it in the latrine. In the morning, I rolled onto my side and that's when I felt it. I can't explain the feeling that was going on inside my body. I just knew I had to go to the bathroom and I had to go right at that moment.

I yelled for Emily, asked her where her keys were for the latrine outside. "HURRY! I'm not playing around!" Whatever, she finally gets the keys and I didn't run to the latrine because I couldn't if you know what I mean but I walked as fast as I could. As soon as I got in there and as soon as I hovered over her wooden "toilet", and was halfway to sitting down, I lost control. Yup. I. Lost. Control. I got business all over that wooden seat. Em knew something bad happened when I went back into her house asking for a bucket of water. She asked me if I wanted to bathe. "No, I need a bucket of water in the latrine..." "Why? What could you have possibly DONE?!" she said. "Just give it to me. I couldn't help it." I told her.

I had to buy her a few new rolls of tp after that. I finally called PCMO a few days later and finally finished my antibiotics.  It's all good now and I'm ready to chow down for my b-day.