Recovery

I haven't said so, but I've been quite ill for about 6 days. It's had ups and downs, but it hasn't been pleasant. Since then, I organized a successful day trip to Chicken Feather Island, Tomi and Renaud both left, Chris and Jay booked tickets out of the Philippines, and I decided to visit Boracay before going to Indonesia. While there, I will jam with a musician named Armand I met through a customer that came through here a while ago (I believe I talked about Bernardine before). I'm thrilled to see another part of the Philippines and to play music but I don't know which one is more exciting.

A couple days ago, feeling a bit better than the day before, I embarked on my routine journey to the dive shop. The relatively high tide resulted in a lack of beach and thus encouraged me to walk the second half of the commute through the small town. Before reaching the main road, I came upon two white tourists, perhaps in their 50s who were each trying to help the other find his way home. Each needed his companion's help because they were both staggering back and forth down the sidewalk, unmistakeably drunk from the night before. Reaching the main intersection, I found the space to safely make my way around the dynamic duo as they gave the motorbike vendors quite a laugh and then I walked the last minute or two to Capt'n Gregg's, right on time as always.

As I was feeling a bit better, I decided to put my name on the board for the morning dive, but 30 minutes before departure had to pay an unplanned visit to the bathroom. I like being descriptive about my experiences here in the Philippines, but I think everyone can imagine diarrhea perfectly well without further explanation. At any rate, my confidence and optimism was also flushed down the toilet and I wiped my name from the dive schedule. A quick talk with a few of the guys urged me to make a trip to the pharmacy for some imodium. On my way up the main road, I got stuck behind a couple of guys with wheelbarrows and squeezing past them I couldn't help but notice an arm sticking out; this guy was carrying a man in a wheelbarrow. My first thought was that the man was ill and this was the only way to take him to the clinic. I started thinking about my Emergency First Response training until I looked at the man's semi-cognizant smiling face and kicked myself for not having my camera. I'm not sure whether they asked or if the Filipinos just took charge, but the drunk men from this morning were being carried off to their resort in wheelbarrows through a crowd of very amused onlookers. Nothing I have seen in Sabang has made me smile more than seeing two plump jolly old drunk men being transported home in one-wheeled chariots made for hauling dirt, gravel, and cement.

The rest of the day is insignificant as my health steadily declined. One of our 3 customers, a 55 year old American living in Guam, suggested I take Ciprofloxacin and gave me a couple sealed tablets. I took one at dinner and yesterday felt much better. After a dive, a trip to the launderette, and a haircut I was still feeling fine so I think it did the trick. Thanks Jim! At 7 I decided that after a week of being ill, a massage was in order and I postponed dinner. My experience of professional massages is almost nonexistent so I really don't have anything to compare it to. However, for $10 I think the hour long intense full-body treatment was pretty much a steal. Feeling fully revived, I glided back home to fix up a delicious spaghetti and meat sauce dinner using my one trusty gas burner. My reliable dinner guest named HBO was there for me as always, this time with some sort of a war film set in the Middle East. It made me think of Conor and how I hope he will be home swiftly and safely. Thanks Conor and the rest of your Marine squadron.