"Don't Bite Your Nails"

That's what my mom said to me on a daily basis when I was growing up. But I continued to do it out of habit and nothing bad ever came from it. At 34 years old, I still bite my nails and am not ashamed. I even tell my niece, who is also a nail biter, that there's nothing wrong with biting your nails.

That is, until I moved to Tanzania.

I've been pretty good here at not biting my nails. I've kept them clipped short so I'm not as tempted. But I've reverted to biting my cuticles instead. And that, my friends, I'm fairly certain, is what has given me amoeba. Remember, I mentioned a couple times over the past month that I had it? Well, it's still here. That little bugger just doesn't want to go away. And along with it I've now gotten my first ever urinary track infection. Yippee for me!

I'm not sure which sucks more, the UTI or the amoeba, but they're both pretty miserable. I think the UTI in itself is bad. Yesterday I was in a pretty severe amount of pain and had trouble sleeping or doing anything because of the ache in my back and stomach. Plus, I would vomit anytime I tried to walk around. Luckily, I started feeling significantly better last night once I'd taken a few doses of antibiotics. Also luckily, the amoeba itself isn't very painful. But the medicine for it totally knocks me out. So just as I'm starting to feel better from the UTI, the meds for the other will make me sleep for days.

So, this week I'm waylaid at home, mostly relegated to the bed. Too bad, too, because I was super excited to start working at Kivulini, the organization that does work on issues related gender based violence. But I guess that'll wait until next week.

In the meantime, I've bought the Bloggess's book, Let's Pretend this Never Happened, via Kindle to keep me company when I'm not passed out.