My first Ghanaian lunch (manioc leaves with ground melon seed, fish and fried plantain), consumed on Monday, contained something that did not agree with me. This became clear yesterday when I could no longer pretend that all was well and blew my lunch out of the car door, opened (mostly but not entirely) just in time. I did manage to have a fairly productive meeting with the dean of a public serve school just before this; but towards the end I knew that I better start looking for a quick exit, so as not to embarrass myself and my colleague.
That put an early end to the day. It was a good thing we had not been able to get any appointments. I spent the rest of the day in recovery mode, sleeping and replenishing lost fluids. I could have been in a worse place to do that. Still, it was boring when not asleep. I could not stand to watch the barrage of doom and gloom stories on CNN – and with few other interesting channels, I turned the TV off. I was too weak for reading or computering. Nurse Cary gave me an email consultation from Cambridge and I ordered her prescription: rice, ripe bananas and toast – the kitchen only had rice
La Rue delivered the 45 page application for research permission to the Review Board after dropping me off at the hotel since I was no fun having around. She later reported that the phone call from the chief helped although the Board will not be considering our application today – we missed that slot, but two weeks from now, in a specially callled session. That will still work.
And, now, after these distractions of the proposal scramble and food poisoning, it is back to work – there are only two and a half days left.
Sylvia's Journal 
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