Volunteer voodoo

I had my pre-departure medical today. I tried very hard to be a good patient and did everything I was told. Apparently I seem completely physically well. Which I kind of knew, but it's nice to be told by someone else who has lots more letters after their name than I do.

Afterwards I got to have 4 vaccinations and a blood test, so it was all fun in Camp Quynh today. Hopefully my immune system is busily making antibodies to the following as I type;

• Japanese encephalitis
  
• Rabies
• Flu
• Typhoid

The travel doc and I were talking about how much I get bitten by mosquitoes and about all the lovely things I'll catch because of that. Basically, it looks like I'll get malaria and die.

Reminder to self: buy vats of permethrin. And steroids.

I've got two more lots of jabs to go and then I should basically become a walking repository of humoral immunity. Yeah, baby. Although apparently the occasional unfortunate person has the JE vaccine and then keels over and dies of anaphylaxis like, a week later. They gave me a red piece of paper that explains this to whoever is around to give me medical attention if this happens. You'd kind of hope they'd just work out that I needed adrenaline and not fuss too much with the reason why, right? "Oh hello, look at this puffy, red, swollen person who can't breathe - ooooooh, Japanese encephalitis vaccine. Isn't that interesting?"

Anyway. Gee my arms are sore. Typical sooky doctor, that's me.

I'm beginning to think that Ernie is not really going to sink in before he arrives. I think in the end he will probably just gallop up and knock me almost unconscious with shock and terror and OHMYGODWHATAMIDOING??? at the airport.

More importantly, though - I need to work out where to have my farewell drinks bash. Ideas, anyone?

Oh - one more thing. I found this Anatole France quote on another aid worker's blog today and quite liked it:

"Tous les changements, même les plus souhaités, ont leur mélancolie, car ce que nous quittons, c'est une partie de nous-mêmes; il faut mourir à une vie pour entrer dans une autre."

("All changes, even the most longed-for, have their melancholy, for what we leave behind is a part of ourselves; one has to die in one life to enter another." Goodness my French is rusty.)