I’ve finally remembered to bring the tabletts. The tabletts I bought at the small modern pharmacy in Malawi that are supposed to kill the worms I might have growing under my skin, waiting to crawl up to my liver, heart and lungs and eat it.
It sounds really bad, so I keep telling myself it’s ok, but I will take the pills just in case. When I had finished all subscriptions I got from the doctor when I had malaria the thought of taking more pills were horrifying. I didn’t want to swallow another one for the rest of my life. The worm-killing ones are six, first three and then another three some hours later, and large. Huge actually. And there might not even be any worms crawling inside of me.