About a week and a half ago, one of our new friends that we met in Antigua, Jorge, picked us up at our house and drove us to the Pacific coast to go surfing on a black sand beach. Excitedly, we piled into his car and a taxi that he hired for us. The 2-hour drive to the coast was beautiful. We drove around volcanoes and rolling green hills with patches of farms. But I began to feel very ill–not in a carsick way. I was achy and feverish. But we were on our way to a beach, so I couldn’t complain. The beach was beautiful with large waves. They looked a little intimidating for me in my funny-feeling state, so I found a nice shady spot under a stilted house and crashed there for the majority of the day. 
When we got home that night, it all went downhill from there. I had really bad chills and what I’m sure was a very high fever (none of us could find a thermometer yet). I was aching like crazy. I finally fell asleep, hoping that all would be well after a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately that wasn’t true. The fever, aches, and chills continued for 5 more days. My Antigua family took care of me like I was a queen. They got me whatever I needed and brought me medicine, food, DVDs to occupy the time, cold wash clothes, and anything else that I asked for. They are all absolutely wonderful. Hats off especially to Jessie who shared a room with me and thus catered to the majority of my needs.
On Easter my fever got to 103. I just couldn’t accept that this was a normal sickness and had Jessie take me to a private clinic in town. The wait to see the doctor was short because of the holiday. He thought I had Dengue fever, but wanted to be sure. After an over-dramatic blood test (I hate needles), the results for Dengue came back negative. Good news, but I was then at a loss as to my mysterious sickness.
After 2 more days in bed, I went back with Katey, an ER nurse in America, to get tested for Malaria. I just wanted answers. Another blood test (this one ever more dramatic than the first– just find my vein the first time, people!) and a urine test in a washed out Gerber baby food jar. I waited one hour for the results. I met with the doctor again and he told me that I have Typhoid. Katey was shocked and just kept asking, “Typhoid?? Can you spell that? T-Y-P…?” The doctor confirmed again. He gave me some antibiotics to take for 10 days. I was vaccinated for Typhoid before I left for the Race, but apparently it didn’t really work. Bummer. Who knows where I picked it up? It can take 1-3 weeks for symptoms to show up. That puts me anywhere from Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, or Guatemala. Your guess is as good as mine.
We got back to our house and met Allison waiting at the kitchen table for the results. She asked what I wanted to do. I told her that I wanted to go home to St. Louis. I wanted to recover in a familiar place. While our house in Antigua was very nice and comfortable, I was not sleeping well at all. I just felt like it was time, you know? I felt at peace about the decision to leave. The next day, Thursday, I got on a plane to St. Louis via Atlanta. It was a ridiculously long day, but I made it home in one piece.
I’ve had an absolutely wonderful 10 months on the World Race. It was a time that I would not trade for anything. I have learned more about the Lord, myself, and other people than I thought was ever possible. I’ve gained a family of 25 people who I love more than anything. More blogs to follow on all that.
Please keep praying for healing. I’m doing a lot better during the days, but still feel pretty bad at night. Being in a familiar bed is helping matters a lot, though. I can probably have some visitors in a few days once the antibiotics kick in a little bit more. Love you all like crazy.
