Last year my wife and I were in India. After going to Kashmir, we went on an excursion to Jaipur and Ajmer. It was really hot -- forty-two centigrade (or whatever that is in the American system) in the shade. I wondered where they had found that shade. So, on the road, we got ourselves some sugar cane juice. It's really delicious, especially when it is hot outside. We all had a glass -- my wife, our driver and me.
That evening, when we came to Jaipur, I did notice that my bowels moved a little faster than they had before, but I didn't much care. We had gone to Kashmir on a twenty-four hour bus ride that had left me slightly constipated,
A couple of pictures of sugar cane juice, as downloaded from random places.
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so I was cool with the somewhat faster movement.
The day after, on our way to Ajmer, the movements got faster. As we got to the hotel I was pretty desperate. The hotel manager wanted to check us in properly before letting us go to our room. When he asked me for my passport to write down the number, I hysterically asked him, "Do you need it now?" But I managed to keep things under control, and when we finally got our room we both rushed to the toilet -- my wife had experienced a sudden change in her bowel movements as well. I think I was gentleman enough to let her go first, but I'm not sure.
We went out for a walk in the still very hot evening. Again we passed some people selling sugar cane juice, so we had a glass each once more. We walked around for about an hour and then went back to the hotel -- we both need to go to the toilet again. I was starting to feel a bit sick, but still I tried to eat dinner. Just some rice and veggies to calm down my stomach -- that was my hope. How foolish I was...
That night, it hit us both. I was throwing up, too, but mostly we both had to shit like mad. I tell you, it took all the love and care for each other we have built up over the past sixteen years to live through a night of two pairs of exploding intestines and just one toilet. My wife got better and was pretty okay in the morning. She is, after all, from Sri Lanka, and has a stronger stomach in general. But I was still a little sick, and the heat was getting to me, as I was now pretty dehydrated. I hadn't been able to drink during the night.
We went back to Jaipur the next day. Because of the heat, I was becoming more and more panic-stricken. I hopped into a cool bathtub back at the hotel but still my guts kept pouring out.
That afternoon I was really tired... tired of living. I just wanted to go home to cold Sweden -- but I couldn't figure out how I'd be able to live through the plane ride.
My wife decided I needed to see a doctor. We went out looking for one, and were helped to a private clinic -- a wise choice, I think, since the public hospital probably had more serious stuff to take care of. The doctor gave me the medication I needed. I remember thinking, as the needles were stuck in my arm by the doctor's beautiful South Indian nurses, that isn't this the way you get AIDS? But right then I didn't care.
I fell asleep. Now and then I was woken by the lovely nurses checking on me. I was there for a few hours. Finally my wife and the guy that had helped us to the hospital returned. I was coming back to life, and soon enough the doctor came and told me I could go. I asked him what he thought could be the cause. Many things, he said.
"Could it be the sugar cane juice?"
He laughed. Why hadn't I told him before? That's the number one cause of diarrhea in tourists.
And really, when I think about it, how could I be so stupid? I mean, the drink looks like liquid poo anyway.
The treatment worked. Maybe a little too well. I didn't shit for the next six days or so.
-- Terje
