IT started as a sharp pain on my toe, like I had a splinter. I then noticed a black dot and, a few days later, what looked like a white circle of skin around it.
I suspected what I'd been told shortly after we first arrived here - that I had a bicho de pe, a small worm that grows in your foot, comes from the sand and is spread usually by animals.
So after the community's resident doctor completed what has become his daily morning routine treating our staph infections (our rented home has become like a hospital), he reminded me about taking care of the bicho de pe I'd told him about a few days earlier.
Carrying his red box of medical tools, he got himself prepared. I sat on a chair and he began to remove it, using a small needle, the important element of the 'surgery' being not to burst the 'white bag'. That's because these are where the worm lays its eggs.
I watched, because I wanted to know how to do it in case I got more. But the bicho was proving stubborn and, if I'm honest, a little painful. I have been known to be queazy, but the bicho removal was nothing (visually) compared to what I'd watched Jamie go through with her staph. I thought I'd be okay.
But as the doctor went about his job, I felt within me that horrible sensation that begins in the stomach and rises to your head. I knew the lights were going out. I leaned back in my chair and gripped the sides, hoping my head would clear. The next thing I know, I saw the doctor, kneeling down, tapping me on the shoulder, asking if I was all right. I'd passed out - for the count!
I had landed on my shoulder, but hit my head hard on the stone floor. Up popped a bruise (known as a mouse). I had pain down the side of my head for the rest of the day and into the night.
The doctor said he thought I was joking, pretending to fake pain. I couldn't get out of my head how he'd told me about removing a bicho on an eight-year-old girl the day before and she felt nothing!
But he soon realised my fall was no prank. Jamie, who was in the kitchen chopping some pineapple at the time, saw me begin to topple. She threw down her knife and ran out to help. The doctor had to gently slap me across the face a few times to revive me. He said I was only unconscious about 10 seconds. Not sure then if it counts as a clean knockout.
In my boxing career, I was never knocked out. But now I've been decked by a worm!
I felt as if I'd been asleep deeply, though, and had had a wonderful dream. Talking the next day (in my absence), the doctor said to Jamie, "Did you see the look on Claude's face [when he regained consciousness]?" It was like I'd been to heaven.
We continued with the 'operation' afterwards, with me on my back and nowhere to go. The worm was extracted and later burned.
Now I have more bandages. I look like a wreck. There's one on the back of my calf, another on the ankle and now one on the toe.
Why this is all happening I haven't yet worked out. Maybe (I hope) it will become clearer in time.
Footnote (pardon the pun): Two days after this incident I got ANOTHER staph infection - on my knee!
The doctor should have started counting, Claude! Hope you all recover quickly from your ailments.
I'm feeling ill at the moment - West Ham got beaten again
Posted by: Kevin | 09 April 2011 at 08:07 PM
It does make for great storytelling :) X
Posted by: Tina | 09 April 2011 at 09:56 PM
Yes indeed, as does almost any encounter you have that goes wrong. I just hope the next one doesn't take me out as well!
Posted by: Claude | 10 April 2011 at 04:04 PM