I escaped to Tbilisi on Thursday. It was against the wishes of my host mother, without the knowledge or permission of my school, and slightly against my own better judgment. But it was necessary.
I spent the previous four days being a sick puppy in one of two places. Either a) fetal position in my bed; or b) curled up in an armchair downstairs. It was cold. I was sick. The power kept going out. The wind was forever whistling through the window frames and rustling the curtains. Deprived even of daytime soap operas, I tended to stare straight ahead and pray for the return of electricity.
I went to the hospital finally on Monday. Enough was enough. The cold from hell progressed into week 4 and picked up some new symptoms: fever and a throat so sore every swallow, every sip, every bite of food required fingernail indentations in my hands. So it was time.
My hospital visit featured blood analysis, chest x-rays, and finally an IV. I’ve never had an IV before. I knew nothing of what was going on. I trailed in my host mother’s wake and was just grateful for whatever they could do for me. I don’t even know if the IV was antibiotics or just fluids. I figured either way it was a good thing. No complaints from me. Post-IV we picked up a bag of things from the pharmacy and headed back to the village. Tuesday and Wednesday saw gradual improvement as my drugs took effect.
For weeks, I’d been planning to go to Tbilisi with friends for the coming weekend. I was depressed all week just thinking about having to stay home. Wednesday I was still feverish and my throat was still tender. It seemed a terrible idea to take a trip when I was still recovering. What would my mother say?
But it would be WARM in Tbilisi, there would be electricity, I could cook good food (protein!). I marshaled these arguments for my phone call to my mom. But in a surprising turn of events, my mother was totally in agreement with my pro-Tbilisi position. Go, go, she said. I was shocked, but grateful. This gave me the additional ammo I needed to thwart my host mother and just go without making a big deal of it with my school.
So Thursday I packed my bag with extra socks, lots of hooded sweatshirts, my hot-water bottle (just in case), all my drugs and made my way to town. I felt a little guilty as I left, but knew that it was for my physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Plus my mom had my back.
I was still a little feverish Thursday and Friday. But my throat feels almost 100%. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday, pancakes for breakfast today, and I WILL have scrambled eggs for breakfast tomorrow. On the basis of that alone, coming to Tbilisi was absolutely the right decision.