Naught for All

I kicked off the day at the local doctor’s office with a few of my classmates, half-delusional and looking an absolute mess. Honestly, locals were calling out pole sana, very sorry in Swahili, as we walked by. The doctor ‘prioritized’ me, another clue that I was looking rough. He asked me to list all of my symptoms, which was a task in itself in my state. He prescribed me an injection of who-knows-what that would supposedly stop the vomiting, after which I would fall asleep and wake feeling better. Yeah, a bit scary, and the looks on my mate’s faces did not inspire confidence. I focused all of my energy into making sure I got a sterile needle and took the shot. This was not enough, I guess, as I was then handed about fifteen pills in about seven different colours to swallow immediately. I threw these up as soon as I got back to my room, but that was no problem because I had a whole envelope of coloured pills to take throughout the coming days. I am not sure what happened after this. I know that I slept all the way to Babati and I suppose the class visited the lake, but I was exhausted and I must have gone directly to bed.

Why so much science? What is this?