HEALTH
Treating and What to Pack in a First Aid Kit
Physiological Challenges You Might Encounter During a Long Journey Around the World
Most of my first aid kit is stocked with medications for various types of intestinal infections and digestive problems. Ironically, these were my primary concerns when embarking on a long journey, perhaps due to anticipation of unfamiliar foods and their effects on my delicate Belarusian stomach.
You know how many times I actually used them? Not once. Neither loperamide, nor Imodium, nor Smecta. A couple of times, the "White Tablet" came in handy—essentially activated charcoal, but more for quick recovery after tasting local alcoholic beverages with good company. Even after having crocodile steak in Australia, grilled larvae in Ecuador, and roasted guinea pig in Peru.
Nevertheless, I still recommend taking such medications with you; you never know what might happen.
Most of my first aid kit is stocked with medications for various types of intestinal infections and digestive problems. Ironically, these were my primary concerns when embarking on a long journey, perhaps due to anticipation of unfamiliar foods and their effects on my delicate Belarusian stomach.
You know how many times I actually used them? Not once. Neither loperamide, nor Imodium, nor Smecta. A couple of times, the "White Tablet" came in handy—essentially activated charcoal, but more for quick recovery after tasting local alcoholic beverages with good company. Even after having crocodile steak in Australia, grilled larvae in Ecuador, and roasted guinea pig in Peru.
Nevertheless, I still recommend taking such medications with you; you never know what might happen.
Most of the physiological difficulties I encountered during my journey around the world involved insect bites and various allergies, which I had never experienced in my life back in the post-Soviet space. In Australia, I suspect I was bitten by a spider. I say "suspect" because I only noticed a red spot about two centimeters in diameter, with a smaller white spot inside, resembling dead skin, and two tiny red dots within it. This fact alarmed me, but the Russian "maybe" instilled a sense of immortality in me, so I simply continued on. About an hour later, I suddenly felt very unwell, with sharp pain near my heart. I turned onto a small path, got off my motorcycle, found nitroglycerin, took it, and leaned against Henry, who was indifferent to my condition, for about 40 minutes. It got better, but I decided to rest at the hostel. I don't remember the city or the hostel, but I remember a sparkling white toilet that became my partner for 1.5 days. And then everything passed. Cheerful and noticeably thinner, I continued on, promising myself to pay more attention to unfamiliar spots in the future.
The next insect attack awaited me in Mexico, in the port town of Topolobampo. There were no signs, a new hostel, but when I woke up in the morning, instead of a sunny dawn, I was greeted by a swarm of small creatures crawling all over me. Why didn't I feel them during the night? Maybe I had pleasant dreams, or maybe they bit me very gently. They feasted on me collectively, so the spots were scattered—five on my ankle, a lovely trio on my neck, a couple on my cheeks, hands, back, and other parts of my 170-centimeter body. Thoughts of scratching this charm occupied my entire brain; I couldn't think of anything else. I drove, gritting my teeth, constantly scratching everything within reach, letting go of the handlebars. The worst were the spots on my face and neck; thanks to the helmet, it prevented the inevitable escalation of the tragedy. Upon arriving in the city, I immediately ran to the doctor; apparently, this vermin translates into "bedbugs" for us. The doctor prescribed a magical ointment, and it got better.
I won't write about the global conspiracy of mosquitoes, which transmit information in code about importing delicate Belarusian blood from country to country, and attack me starting from Japan. Near the Venezuelan border, a bee flew into my open jacket and, shocked by the size of my chest, decided to make an injection to increase it—what a painful procedure. Beauty must be natural!
The last attack by something small and annoying was in Havana, Cuba. After sitting for 10 minutes on a wicker chair in a cafe and leaning my bare shoulder (why did I wear that red dress), I earned an extensive red body art on half of my back. Thanks to the embassy doctor, Leonid, for another magical ointment. Everything cleared up in a couple of days.
The next insect attack awaited me in Mexico, in the port town of Topolobampo. There were no signs, a new hostel, but when I woke up in the morning, instead of a sunny dawn, I was greeted by a swarm of small creatures crawling all over me. Why didn't I feel them during the night? Maybe I had pleasant dreams, or maybe they bit me very gently. They feasted on me collectively, so the spots were scattered—five on my ankle, a lovely trio on my neck, a couple on my cheeks, hands, back, and other parts of my 170-centimeter body. Thoughts of scratching this charm occupied my entire brain; I couldn't think of anything else. I drove, gritting my teeth, constantly scratching everything within reach, letting go of the handlebars. The worst were the spots on my face and neck; thanks to the helmet, it prevented the inevitable escalation of the tragedy. Upon arriving in the city, I immediately ran to the doctor; apparently, this vermin translates into "bedbugs" for us. The doctor prescribed a magical ointment, and it got better.
I won't write about the global conspiracy of mosquitoes, which transmit information in code about importing delicate Belarusian blood from country to country, and attack me starting from Japan. Near the Venezuelan border, a bee flew into my open jacket and, shocked by the size of my chest, decided to make an injection to increase it—what a painful procedure. Beauty must be natural!
The last attack by something small and annoying was in Havana, Cuba. After sitting for 10 minutes on a wicker chair in a cafe and leaning my bare shoulder (why did I wear that red dress), I earned an extensive red body art on half of my back. Thanks to the embassy doctor, Leonid, for another magical ointment. Everything cleared up in a couple of days.
Unexpected sunburn becomes a unpleasant issue while traveling. In our climate (and even in the familiar beach resorts of Turkey and Egypt), we're not used to the fact that in just 30 minutes under the sun, you can get burned to a crisp, as can happen in Northeastern Australia, for example. The most amusing sunburn I got was in triangles, when I unzipped my pants and the sun seeped into the gap between my pants and motorcycle boots. Aloe gel and SPF 50+ sunscreens are a must-have.
In Colombia and Argentina, I experienced two fevers. The exact types were unclear, as doctors simply called it "fever." In Cartagena, I was prescribed antibiotics, while in San Salvador de Jujuy, I received injections. The condition in both cases was "make it through the night." In Cartagena, I had friends from the ship "Steel Rat" nearby, but in Argentina, I was alone in the hostel room and couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom due to weakness. I wouldn't wish such an experience on anyone.
Regarding injuries from falls, I only suffered a sprained ligament in a canyon near a drug cartel's territory in the city of Urique. The guys involved in this controversial industry really helped me out and treated me like a princess. That's the kind of lucky cookie I am.
Reflecting on these two years, I think I am incredibly lucky and healthy. On the road, the body mobilizes, muscles grow unnoticed, excess weight goes away proportionally to the increase in the number of beautiful dresses, vision, sense of smell, intuition—all sharpen to the bone, serving the hostess well. I've never felt so good in my life, in such absolute harmony with my soul and body.
In Colombia and Argentina, I experienced two fevers. The exact types were unclear, as doctors simply called it "fever." In Cartagena, I was prescribed antibiotics, while in San Salvador de Jujuy, I received injections. The condition in both cases was "make it through the night." In Cartagena, I had friends from the ship "Steel Rat" nearby, but in Argentina, I was alone in the hostel room and couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom due to weakness. I wouldn't wish such an experience on anyone.
Regarding injuries from falls, I only suffered a sprained ligament in a canyon near a drug cartel's territory in the city of Urique. The guys involved in this controversial industry really helped me out and treated me like a princess. That's the kind of lucky cookie I am.
Reflecting on these two years, I think I am incredibly lucky and healthy. On the road, the body mobilizes, muscles grow unnoticed, excess weight goes away proportionally to the increase in the number of beautiful dresses, vision, sense of smell, intuition—all sharpen to the bone, serving the hostess well. I've never felt so good in my life, in such absolute harmony with my soul and body.
© Kate'n'Ride, 2024. All rights reserved (my Dad is a lawyer)
