It’s World Malaria Day!

World Malaria Day. Ah, the memories!

Today – April 25th – is World Malaria Day. I know you’ve had it circled on your calendars, and I’m probably interfering with your own malarial memories, so I’ll try to keep this short. No guarantees, though, since I suck at brevity.

Once upon a time, I was 13 years old with feathered Farrah Fawcett hair and a penchant for lying to my parents.

Hey, now. Don’t judge. ‘Cause you know what? My parents always told me stuff like, “Play to your strengths, Beth,” and I was a really good liar. So who’s to blame — me or them? Yes. I think so, too. Poor parenting on their part.

Whew! I’m glad we settled that little dispute right up front.

So.

Once upon a time, I was 13 years old. And I woke up one morning not wanting to go to school, which, if you’ve ever met a 13-year-old, will undoubtedly strike you as completely typical.

I did what any 13-year-old in my situation would do.

I faked sick.

Now, I’m an excellent sick-faker, if I do say so myself. And I’ll give you – for free – my VERY BEST, numero uno, sick-faking secret which I discovered at age 8.

Sick-Faking Tip #1
Never, ever, EVER break character.

Never, ever break character, not even when you think the school nurse isn’t looking. Because I am here to tell you that that mean lady will definitely catch you if you decide to dance on your sick bed for the entertainment of the other sick children and she will send you right back to class with a note that will require you to explain yourself to your teacher. You will be humiliated. Trust me.

By the time I was 13, I was a champion at faking sick. I stayed in character all the time. I moaned in the bathroom. I practiced grimacing in the mirror. I wet my face at the sink so I looked clammy and my skin was cool to the touch.

Sick-Faking Tip #2
Fevers are hard to fake, but pale and clammy is almost always as good.

I stumbled to my bed. And I did all of this even if I was home alone.

I was, like, the Supreme Method Actor of faking sick! So you can understand why, on the morning I told my parents that I was dying of a dreadful disease, they took me very, very seriously.

Of course, our family also happened to live at that time in a part of Indonesia that was an incubator for malaria. So that whole malaria thing might have had a teeny, tiny impact on their consideration of my case.

It turns out that I was so good at sick-faking, you guys, that I mimicked nearly all of the symptoms for malaria. I had chills, sweats, a pounding headache, general aches, nausea – all of the unproveable classics, just to seal the No School deal. WOOT! Go, me!

Sick-Faking Tip #3
Don’t do it. It’s not worth it.
Karma is mean like the school nurse, and Karma will call your bluff

My parents took me for a blood test.

I stayed in character while they pricked my finger and made a smear on the glass slide. I even went more pale at that point because I was that good. (And because there was blood. But whatever.)

The lab analyzed my blood.

I had malaria.

I. Had. Malaria.

Seriously. Malaria is what I had.

And then I got sick. Except it was real sick and not fake sick. And it lasted for three weeks while I took volumes of bitter medicine that made my ears ring and made me vomit and made my headache and gave me chills. Or maybe the malaria did those things. It’s hard to say for sure.

You guys, I have to hand it to malaria. It’s a way, WAY better method actor than me.

In the end, I dropped 10 pounds… and I dropped faking sick… and I dropped some of my lying. (But not all of my lying, because I eventually learned that if you call it fiction writing then no one gets mad.)

I also dropped vanilla pudding which is what my mom fed me during my prolonged No School deal. Truly I say unto you: there are only so many times you can yarf vanilla pudding before you relegate it, along with malaria, to depths of Things I Hope Never To Taste Again As Long As I Live.

And those, ladies and gentlemen, are my malarial memories. Brought to you by World Malaria Day and by vanilla pudding.

The End

P.S. I might not have ever confessed the malaria lie to my parents before now. Sorry you had to find out on my blog, Mom and Dad. (And, um, just kidding about the poor parenting thing.)

P.P.S. I also lied about who stole the Almond Roca from your top dresser drawer, Dad. It was delicious.

……….

And A Much More Serious Post-Script

P.P.P.S.

I get to be alive and to joke about my experience with malaria because my parents had access to medical care and money for treatment.

But malaria’s no joke.

According to the World Health Organization, there are 216 million (that’s MILLION) cases of malaria every year, resulting in 655,000 deaths. Most of those deaths are children under age 5.

sarah-odur-3

I don’t know about you, but statistics like that can make me feel hopeless. It’s so easy to get bogged down in the scope of the problem and to feel heartbroken and small. But the incredible news for those of us who want to make a difference is that malaria is both preventable and treatable.

If you’re looking for a way to help children in desperate need,
<—- check out Sarah’s story. I’ll stake my reputation, such as it is, on the work Medical Teams International does around the world.

……….

Image credit Medical Teams International
MedicalTeamsInternational

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
11 comments
  1. […] you can read other things and I’ll even help point you to a couple. Like about how it is World Malaria Day. <–no really, it’s funny. Or see if you can read this without laughing. (Warning: […]

  2. Hilarious Beth! Your story really reminded me of my too long-method acting-get out of school career (except for the malaria). I did have to fake it all the way through a Dr visit a time or two, but no malaria to scare me straight.
    I’m sooo glad I found your blog, and going to check out more about Sarah Odur’s story right now! 🙂
    My Latest post

    1. 🙂 Thanks, Debra and welcome here!

  3. Another great organization that’s fighting malaria is the Lutheran Malaria Initiative. They’ve teamed up with medical, social, and religious groups all over Africa to take education and prevention measures out to the poorest and most distant villages. 100% of donations go straight to providing help to families. $10 will provide a bed net and education to an entire family. Yes, $10 can save a whole family. It’s an amazing group. We give to them regularly and do additional fundraisers because we believe in them so much. Check them out:
    http://www.lutheranmalaria.org/site/c.emJXKgOYJhI6G/b.7716885/k.BF10/Home.htm#intro
    Thanks for raising malaria awareness!

  4. In Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, he recommended the clammy hands, but he also warned against overdoing it. Of course, you were probably overseas when that movie came out, and therefore had to cope without the invaluable resource of John Hughes movies.

    1. Ha! Even in the developing world, we watched Ferris Beuller’s Day Off… that must’ve influenced me.

  5. Wow, I’m touched beyond words by your final postscript, especially the part about a pair of kids stepping up to have a global reach in helping solve this problem. So very inspiring. Thanks for the hilarious and uplifting post!
    Blessings,
    Sharon

  6. oooh! have you ever swapped stories with my father? he’s got a doozy as well.

    1. Yes! Wooee – his tale’s a dark one! Glad he was diagnosed (even in the States) and able to finally find treatment.

      1. i know! it’s weird, now, for me to look back at it and think…whoa. just whoa.

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