Jade’s Guide to Surviving Dengue Fever Through Complete and Total Ignorance

So, in May last year (2018), I nearly died from Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever. How? I was bitten by a particularly smeggy mosquito while on holiday with my friend in Thailand.

Well that escalated quickly…

The forest in Chiang Mai, Thailand, where I got bitten

My trip had been planned so that I spent ten days in Thailand and then popped over to visit another friend in Singapore for two days before heading back to Japan. I then planned to do the washing and repack my suitcase and then fly to England for ten days to surprise my family. Well, suffice to say, my family got a little more than a surprise in the end.

It All Begins…

The illness struck me literally moments after I had arrived in Singapore, and I put it down to being the flu. You see, Singapore has a tremendous rainy season during the summer and has two-hour downpours every day. I happened to arrive and immediately get caught in one and didn’t dry off properly before my friend, Daiki, dragged me out to see the city. So, a couple of hours later when I started getting hot flushes and shivering profusely (despite the fact that it was about 35°C), I remembered my previous experience of the flu and retired to bed early.

I started shivering around the time this photo was taken

I spent the night up and down trekking back and forth to the toilet and continually sipped on water like there was no tomorrow.

The next day, I stayed in bed all day trying to keep warm (despite the hot, humid weather). Daiki brought me back some bread and Panadol tablets to take. Then he gave me the bed for my entire two-day stay – thank smeg I was in good hands. I just kept drinking water and tried to ward off the horrific pain in my head. At about midday, it felt as though someone was trying to crack my skull open with a mallet. The pain was so intense that I cried.

“Sleep and drink water and you will get better,” I told myself.

I now believe that drinking all that water saved my life, so it was lucky that I did it!

Sightseeing With Dengue

On my final night, I gathered up the strength to go out and see the famous Gardens by the Bay and the Merlion Statue. I couldn’t bear to be in a new country and be bed-bound the whole time. So, my friend carefully guided me around, even though I was walking somewhat shakily at a snail’s pace and my eyes were dull.

Haha! Like a walking corpse!

Heading back to Japanland

The following day, I had to drag my shocked body onto a 9-hour flight back to Japan. That flight was awful. I asked the cabin crew if I could change seats to sit somewhere near a toilet and told them it was because I wasn’t feeling very well. I didn’t want to risk being unable to board, so I hid my flu suspicions and said that I had a funny tummy instead. They said yes and accommodated me in my request; however, the crew didn’t offer me any water or kind words past that point.

At the airport awaiting my flight. This photo was filtered, haha

When it came to landing, the toilet sign had just been switched off and everyone had been told to put their seatbelts on. I suddenly felt a lurch in my stomach that could not be ignored. I ran to the nearest crew member.

Me: “Please let me use the toilet, I’m going to be sick.”

Cabin attendant (while flapping his hands): “Well, be quick then!”

A few moments later, they knocked on the door, as if I hadn’t realised the plane was landing and was having a merry old time in there. 

Moral of the story: never fly with Air Asia again.

Back in Japanland

Once back in Japan, I took a bus back to the Hilton Hotel in Shinjuku. From there, it was only a ten-minute walk back to my house. But, with a fairly heavy suitcase and other souvenir-containing bags in hand, it was a hellish trek. I remember slowly walking back to the sharehouse, forcing myself to stay upright. By this point, I had become very weak and my body would not support itself for extended periods of time.

When I eventually did get home, my housemate, Chris, had to give me a hand carrying my suitcase up the stairs because I lacked the strength to.

Turning Red

Dengue Fever selfies, anyone?!

Well things went from bad to worse, and I was still convinced I only had the flu.

At this stage in the Dengue Saga, I had developed a red rash all over my body. I had also started fainting whenever I was in a room that had a higher temperature than what I was accustomed to. Of course, it being the middle of a very hot and humid Japanese summer didn’t help.

I had to ask Chris to come and stand in front of me with his back turned while I went to the shared house toilet. Being a tiny unventilated room, whenever I had to shut myself in there, I would pass out, so I had to hire him as a babysitter.

He also came and checked on me when I had a shower because the heat of the water also caused me to swoon and black out. Eventually I just showered sitting down because I became too weak and “fainty” to stand.

By now, I had begun to worry a little. I looked up “the flu and fainting” to find that apparently it’s a thing! Although I couldn’t explain the rash away (and everyone just thought I was sunburnt from Thailand anyway), that was enough evidence to prove to myself that I just needed to keep drinking and sleep it off…

Inability to Walk, Hold Mildly Heavy Objects or Talk Properly

In the midst of all this, I realised that I still had to make it to the UK to surprise my family. My friend, Alex, came over to pack my suitcase for me because I couldn’t lift anything heavier than my phone by this point. My body also started to automatically “shut down” after thirty minutes of being alert – I would uncontrollably fall asleep.

Alex asked what I wanted in my suitcase, but I had reached a mild state of delirium and couldn’t think straight. I told him to put in just a few items of clothing and my Thailand souvenirs because I had clothes back in the UK. When my mum later opened my suitcase to find two jumpers, a pair of knickers and a pair of shorts, I nearly wet myself laughing at her expression.

Why Not Seek Medical Help?

Giving lobsters a run for their money

A very good question! Pretty much all of my friends berated me for this too. You see, I had just quit my job at the time, which meant that I had no health insurance coverage (because it came with the job). I was waiting to get new health insurance with my upcoming job and refused to spend money I didn’t have getting treatment in Japan when I knew that I could receive free treatment on the NHS back in the UK. I also still thought it was merely the flu (yes, even at this point).

Oranges, Please

On the day I was supposed to fly back to the UK, I had planned to go to my friend Tomo’s house in Chiba for a barbecue. The plan was that he would drive me to the airport afterwards because it was fairly close to his house (and he is a nice person). As I couldn’t really function properly at this point, I had to cancel my attendance at the barbecue. He offered to come and pick me up from my house and drive me all the way to the airport from there though. It’s a fairly mega journey, which proves how much of a babe he is.

He later told me that I had been pretty “absent” in the car and had asked him to stop off at the supermarket for me. I had requested tissues, masks and oranges (for the Vitamin C). The funny thing is, I don’t remember any of this! When we got to the airport, Tomo wheeled my (pretty much empty) suitcase for me and then I fell asleep in the waiting area. He gently shoved me through the gate to security and then I was alone again.

The 12-Hour Journey From Hell

At the airport, I spent approximately £80 on the best travel pillow available (with an inbuilt gel cooling function and complete neck support) and a mask.

This time, I flew with Japan Airlines, and the cabin attendants were all amazing. I had a non-stop supply of water throughout the flight and the cabin crew regularly checked on me.

Related Post: Why Flying Home to the UK from Japan Is a Complete Pain in the Arse

Touchdown in the UK

Smeg knows how, but I survived the flight back! I will forever be grateful to my friend, Stuart, who paid half the ticket price and came to collect me at the airport.

When I arrived at Heathrow Airport, I wandered slowly through to the passport control section and nearly collapsed. The queue was enormous, and I could barely stand. I told an airport employee that I was feeling unwell, and she directed me to the disabled queue, so I passed straight through.

While waiting to collect my suitcase, my legs finally started giving way, so I asked another employee for a wheelchair. The guy was great and sorted me out immediately. They collected my suitcase for me and wheeled me through to the arrivals lounge where Stuart was waiting for me with a collection of homemade “Welcome Home!” signs.

He sifted through the signs while staring at me in mild shock and horror.

Stuart: “What the hell happened to you?”

Me: “I’ve got the flu! Don’t worry, I’ll be fine!”

He wheeled me to his car and shoved me in the back with a brightly coloured poncho as a gift. I fell asleep almost immediately.

Home sweet home

I got home at about 6am and my brother, Niall, smuggled us inside. Only he knew that I was coming home as a belated Mother’s Day surprise. He made both Stuart and I a full English breakfast, but I couldn’t eat it. Whenever I put food in my mouth, it tasted sour and made me want to be sick. In fact, at this point, I hadn’t really eaten anything for five days.

I’ll tell you what, though, my body looked smegging fantastic! The Dengue Diet! It really works!

Looking slim with my aunts during recovery

Niall carried Mum’s breakfast up to her bedroom and then passed it to me. “Surprise!” I said as I entered, and she screeched in (happy?) shock. “Jade?!” I nearly dropped the tray on her because it was too heavy for me.

She sent me back downstairs to surprise my grandparents. After they had jumped out of their skins (in happiness?), my grandma touched my forehead.

“You’re very warm, sweetheart. Take some paracetamol and rest.”

I fell asleep almost immediately as I still had my strange “thirty minutes of consciousness” body timer in place. Consequently, I slept for twelve hours straight and woke up drenched in sweat. The bedding had to be changed, and the sweat had run through to the mattress itself (sorry, Grandad).

The final straw (warning, disgusting photo incoming)

Well, the next morning I awoke and blew my nose to discover lumps of clotted blood. The penny finally dropped that perhaps it wasn’t the flu that I had.

“Grandad, please can you take me to the doctor’s this morning?” I asked at around 7am. I showed him the tissue, and he nodded and told me to be ready to get there by opening time (8am).

My apologies to any squeamish people

I sat in the doctor’s office in a mild state of delirium while I tried to explain my many symptoms. It was difficult for me to speak coherently by this point, so it took a while. The doctor looked perplexed and told me that she had no idea what was wrong with me. She gave me some antibiotics and antihistamines (for the rash) and took some of my blood to test.

A scary phone call

That evening, at about 9:30pm, I got a phone call from my GP. I told everyone it was the doctor on the phone and my entire family crowded around while I put it on  loudspeaker. The doctor was not native to the UK and it was a bit difficult to understand his accent. Add to that the loud voices of my family talking anxiously over the top and it took my asking the poor man to repeat himself three times before the message was understood.

“The test results are abnormal. You don’t have enough white blood cells in your body. Come to A&E immediately.”

Well, it was like the scene out of Chicken Run when they’ve just been told they are going to be made into pies. My whole family went into meltdown. I briefly felt like crying, but lacked the energy to do anything.

By this point, I couldn’t walk, hold anything, see properly, stay awake for more than half an hour or string a proper sentence together. My body was in so much pain.

I went and slumped on the sofa while I listened to Grandad bellowing at everyone to hurry up and get in the car. Mum was faffing around trying to pack an overnight bag for me, and Grandma came over and touched my face with wide eyes.

“Not you,” she said.

“Oh, smeg me, I can’t deal with this,” I thought.

My family hurdled me into the car and we were away. From the time of the phone call, it took us an hour to reach the hospital.

Hospitalisation

The doctors and nurses interrogated me one by one about what had happened

Doctor: What’s your name?

Me: My name…?

My mum (in wide-eyed horror): Jade. Her name is Jade.

Suffice to say, the interrogation took a while as they wanted to know exact travel dates and details.

Eventually, a doctor came in and threw the word “septic” around. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I watched Mum flip out and point-blank demand a blood transfusion for me.

What instead happened, was that I was hooked up to an IV drip and fed sodium chloride through a tube. Thankfully, this brought back a bit of clarity to my brain (which I later discovered was inflamed and enlarged at the time).

At 7am, a doctor came in and told me

“You have a deranged liver.”

Well it’s lucky I lacked the strength to laugh at that one. “Of course I have a deranged liver!” I thought. “My entire family and I are deranged, so that makes sense.” My aunt later looked up the term in a medical dictionary and found that it means “functioning abnormally.”

Hospital life

As what I had was unknown, they didn’t know if it was contagious or not. Thus, I was wheeled into a private room in a geriatrics ward so I couldn’t “contaminate” anyone. Anyone who entered had to wear a mask and apron, and I was asked to wear a mask too. Being a family of mad people, this was also obviously hilarious. My family only put on the masks for a laugh every now and then or to mock me.

I spent the following three days and nights with fluids being constantly injected into me and blood pressure checks every few hours. I also had lots of blood taken for further testing in an attempt to find out what the smeg was wrong with me.

A funny thing that happened on my second day was the arrival of the “nil by mouth” sign and magnet. The sodium chloride had not only brought me back to my senses but also brought back my sense of hunger too. Then appeared the sign.

I was told that I couldn’t intake any food or water until after my ultrasound scan at 4pm. The scan was to check up on my “deranged” liver, and those were the requirements.

It was only 11am and my mum laughed at my dashed expression. Then I laughed too, and we started messing around to keep ourselves amused.

The blood platelets and ALT problem

The doctors kept referring to my low blood platelet count and commenting on how damaged my liver was. They said that there is an enzyme in our livers called ALT, and that I had an elevated quantity. In my world, ALT stands for “assistant language teacher,” so this was clearly very funny to me.

They said that when I was admitted, I had an ALT count of 243. During my three-day stay, this rose to over 400, but had then returned to 230. As I had no basic knowledge on the subject, these numbers didn’t have an effect on me.

Me: “Right. And what’s the typical amount?”

Doctor: “35.”

Smegging heck! Now I saw why they were worrying about it so much.

Diagnosis

After many trials, tribulations and blood tests for all forms of Hepatitis, Malaria and other tropical diseases, it finally emerged that I had Dengue Fever.

I did a bit of research on it after that and found that there are actually four (some suspect five) different types of Dengue Fever. In rare cases, Dengue Fever can develop into Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever or Dengue Shock Syndrome. Of course, mine developed into the second most dangerous type, Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever. Only 5% of locals per year contract this type, so for me to have gotten it as a tourist was a pretty spectacular achievement. Good job, Jade!

My brother recently sent me the above screenshot congratulating me on still being alive. In fact, Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever sometimes kills its victims within the first 12-48 hours of symptoms appearing. Furthermore, there are a total of 22,000 deaths on average per year thanks to Dengue Fever.

One website states the complications from Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever as such:

• Seizures
• Brain damage
• Blood clots
• Damage to the liver and lungs
• Heart damage
• Shock
• Death

You can check out more Dengue Fever information from the above website here if you want.

Release from Hospital

I had a fairly cozy time in hospital with many visits from friends and family. The only issue I had was that I couldn’t shower because I was hooked up to the IV drip the whole time. I also had to drag the drip with me whenever I wanted to go to the toilet.

Another interesting thing that happened was that my hands and feet became incredibly swollen. I assume this was because I was being pumped full of fluids and my body had nowhere to store them. However, this made walking incredibly painful as the soles of my feet were really sore to touch.

I had also developed what I call “fog vision”. It was like looking at the world through a dirty bus window, and this only started once I had entered hospital.

My besty making mask life better. Look how red my skin was!

A couple of days after I was eventually released into the wild, my skin turned back to white! The soles of my feet also became less painful to walk on and the swelling disappeared. Hooray! I still got exhausted from doing very little, but all in all, it was much better being back home than in hospital.

Family fun night!

Bye bye, Dengue

Upon arriving back in Japan, the final stage of Dengue Fever hit me. I was showering one day when a huge sheet of skin came off. It was absolutely disgusting. From then on, over the course of the next month, all of the skin on my body completely peeled off! During this time, my fog vision subsided too! Wonderful!

The start of the peeling

New skin, new life!

Final thoughts

Having a near-death experience really changes your outlook on life. When I was slumped on the sofa having just been told the news that something was seriously wrong with me, I started to think. They say that life flashes before your eyes, right? Well, for me, only people flashed before my eyes. Alongside that, I thought about all the things I had wanted to do with my life.

• Travel – I had already done some of that, I was happy.
• Have a child – I didn’t have one, and thank smeg because it would be motherless if I died.
• Have a long-term partner – I was single. Again, thank smeg! If I had a boyfriend and then died, he would be awkwardly wondering when it was okay for him to move on.

Essentially, I realised that I had no regrets and was perfectly happy to die then and there. I thought about my friends and family and hoped they would be okay. I realised that only they, only people, were truly important.

Before Dengue Fever, I was already pretty laid back, but I started to care even less about things that didn’t matter. Time-keeping, appearance, petty day-to-day worries. None of it is important. As long as I have great friends in my life and I can look after them, I feel fulfilled.

Daiki looked after me in Singapore

Chris took care of me in the sharehouse

Alex packed my suitcase for me

Tomo drove me to the airport and got me on the plane home

Stuart paid for my flight home and drove me back from the airport. Essentially he is the reason I made it to the hospital and am still alive today.

The power of friendship knows no bounds. Look after those around you, everyone. You never know how much you might need their love. My friends saved my life.

See ya later, alligator!

Jade xxx