I am going to take the advice of a commenter and not focus on toilets…until I desperately need to. And at the same time, Delhi Belly is not something to be ignored or sneezed at…especially when you have it.
Being labelled ‘reckless’ has been a staple of married life for me. The Sheila and I live in different worlds when it comes to risk assessment. For me, taking calculated risks makes life exciting but not so much for her.
I am unlikely to eat a meal in a hotel or fancy restaurant – I don’t do it at home, so why when travelling and the lure of street food is irresistable. So going prepared for anything and hoping for the best is not a bad idea, especially since I will be a long way from home and by myself for 5 weeks. “But don’t you have a real doctor in your family these days?’ you might ask. Yes, but it isn’t much help really unless trying to get a diagnosis via email is your thing.
And getting sick when you are supposed to be exploring and having adventures seems much less fun than taking an ideological stand and remembering that you are a wuss when it comes to injections.
This was the formidable looking line up. In fact, two of them were absolutely painless, seriously! Zero pain! I have learned a lot about the value of relaxing when having your body intentionally punctured.
Common sense tells me to have what I might need at hand rather than having to struggle to a doctor or chemist and try to figure out what I needed 60 minutes ago. So here’s the kit – it is only because of weight limits that I am not including a defibrillator.
Six days to go and I raise my glass of boiled, UV treated, filtered, iodined water from a sealed bottle in a toast to good health.
You’ll let me know if you need me to restock the kit before I leave here, eh?