I’m happy to report that the bad reputation of the Indonesian hospital system is completely unfounded, so long as you are swimming in money, or a foreigner with travel insurance. It didn’t seem like such a sweet deal when I arrived, sat on a hard wooden chair for an hour, surrounded by dying people. Once I got past the first door, it was three people to an examination room, so I got to hear about the sore shoulder of one man, and the intestinal distress of an old woman. Lovely.
After the decision to admit me was made, I returned to my seat for another half hour, before I was given a drip and a bed, then carted off to my room. In a strange turn of events, you actually have to go outside, into the elements, to transit to your room. I have no idea how that works in the wet season. However, the room itself was fabulous. TV, fridge, private bathroom with hot shower, and a balcony with a fifth-floor view of the city. Still no Merapi though.
Why was I in hospital? Demam Berdarah Dengue or Dengue Fever. I believe I got it on Thursday night, because I woke up feeling very ordinary on Friday. I spend all of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday in bed, with only two trips outside, to get food and pulsa. By Sunday night, I was ready to do something about it, and on Monday morning Lestari came to my kos and took me to the hospital.
This was the site of four days worth of dextrose and electrolytes in drip form, three bowls of mashed potato, half a dozen bananas, and approximately five litres of guava juice.
By Thursday I was well enough to get out of bed and enjoy this view. I have no idea which direction this is, but it definitely isn’t north to Merapi.
Friday afternoon I managed to get home, and on Saturday morning Bintang arrived to visit for the weekend. Much love to everyone who came to visit, in sequential order: Lestari, Vita, Gilang & Mely, Paul, Bec, Fe & Rachelle, Nal, Tono and the guys from UGM!
Addendum: Now I have two bottles of Mortein, one specifically anti-dengue to really cut those suckers down, some sort of AC-powered mosquito repellent releaser, and a bottle of Rid. Now, where’s my electric tennis racket?