A Cornishman in Africa: Tummy Troubles

I cannot beat around the bush and please excuse my crudities.(no, not the snacks you got before a meal.)

I have not been feeling too smart today, in fact the world fell out of my bottom, which in truth it has been doing since Wednesday.
This is one of the wonderful and many symptoms of malaria. The others are equally fun, ranging from the feeling that you have suddenly moved to the Arctic Circle in a cold snap, then ten minutes later realizing that no, in fact you have just moved house again and are living in a blast furnace in Ghana.
These symptoms you would think, would make you say oh, I seem to have something wrong with me.
But oh no, the malaria bug is clever and has thought of that, he has sent his little bugs up to the brain and pulled the plug on the part that controls all rational thought. Then they take that power plug and stick it into the part of the brain that controls really weird and strange dreams and then turn the power right up to Max. Any spare power they come across, they plug into the vomit reflex, because they really do have a wicked sense of humour.
All in all this makes for quite entertaining viewing from the outside but when you are on the inside it’s not quite so good.

So on Friday afternoon after a particularly hectic move between Siberia and Accra, I decided to hit it hard with the Coartem.
Now Coartem is a truly wonderful drug, It works particularly well in this end of Africa, but it is expensive, that having been said I always keep two courses of it with me at all times. The only thing is that you have to be sure that you have malaria before taking it, because if you don't. It too has a wicked sense of humour and will beat the living daylights out of you for taking it when you should not have.
I think this is a really good idea and should be introduced on all drugs and would end drug abuse over night.

The upshot of this was that by Saturday I was feeling remarkably better so much so that I decided to walk the 20m to the car and go shopping. Unfortunately, Coartem mends the brain quicker than the body, I probably made it about 12 m, before collapsing in a heap of jelly, after ten minutes I made it back to the house and within another ten I was back in bed feeling rather foolish and dusty.
Sunday I was still as weak as a kitten but able to maintain horizontal movement.
My wife being some 10,000km away in Cornwall, was a little worried that I was fading away and not looking after myself so in an effort to alleviate her worry I decided to take some pictures of myself.
So after about ten minutes trying to work out how to get the timer to work on the camera, that is in the phone, I managed to set it up.
Then, what should I wear to prove I was not wasting away, Maybe just my pants, NO ! After the first two shots I realised that this was looking horribly like a porn shoot from some fat fetish site. I decided pants were not a good idea, so I added shorts, and after another couple of shots it became more and more apparent that I have probably put on weight and not lost anything at all since being here. And to send my darling wife some picture of her fat white husband in various states of undress really was not on.
So I got rid of the pictures, and have decided to go on a diet.


Denzil Bark.