Being sick in the developing world.

September 3, 2015


If you know me, you know that I’m desperate a.) If I step foot in a pharmacy and/or b.) If I actually purchase medicine from said pharmacy. Well, today I was desperate.

My throat feels as though someone took a knife to its insides, and over the past few days it has only worsened. Since I was barely able to speak today, I decided it was about time to pay the people in the white jackets a visit. (To my fellow hippy comrades, I promise you I pushed alternative remedies to their limits trying to avoid the doomed pharmacy. Haha.) Anyway, I managed to communicate my symptoms in Spanish to a very kind pharmacist asking for her recommendations. After prescribing me and telling me the instructions, I not only left the pharmacy with medicine, but I left with medicine that didn’t even come in a box. It was in loose packaging, and any description of its contents were in Spanish. But did I think twice about what those little pills might be? Nope. After translating as best as I could the instructions from the pharmacist, down they went. Down into my belly. Here I am three hours later, and my throat is basically numb… and I’m probably the happiest I’ve been all week. Yay me! 

Yay Peruvian pharmacies!

Yay to my favorite person, Bear, for bringing home the best Chifa in town for dinner!

Just yayyy!

Update: It turns out those little pills are legit antibiotics and high(enough)-dosage pain killers. It’s crazy to me that antibiotics can be handed out over-the-counter here, but I’m pretty glad! Also,

yay for my neighbor, Jessica (also my landlord’s sister), who is simply the sweetest.

She helped me by calling her doctor friend to discuss my symptoms and confirmed what the little pills are and how to take them… and invited us to dinner next week.

Yay to my landlord for completing the necessary repairs to our apartment tonight, too! (Yay!)

I hope it will be a quick recovery.

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