My Twice Yearly Parasite Routine in Costa Rica

Intestinal parasites are my companion in Costa Rica. Every six months or so I make a trip to the pharmacy and ask for pastillas antiparasiticos. The most common over-the-counter pill is the anti-protozoal agent Nitazoxanide: two pills a day for three days to treat an array of intestinal parasites. The pills scour your digestive system, wiping out nematodes, cestodes, and helminths, as well as various protozoa with exotic names such as Cryptosporidium parvum, Giardia lamblia, and Entamoeba histolytica.

My body always lets me know when it is time for a treatment. The first sign is a growling stomach within a half hour of finishing a meal. Next comes fatigue, dull headaches, and irregular sleep patterns. My auto-diagnosis is made official the first time I sprint to the bathroom for a total diarrheic bowel evacuation soon after eating. Finally comes an errand to town to buy the magic pills that bring relief. Right now I am halfway through the dosage and my digestive system is settling back to normal.

Over thirty years ago, I had emergency surgery in the Pérez Zeledón hospital to remove an ulcerating parasite from my intestines. I had been sick off and on for the previous month, but it was not until the pain in my gut rendered me almost immobile that I went to the hospital. Had I waited another day I might have died. Within a few hours of admission, doctors sliced me open and extracted the offending two-inch by five-inch parasite.

The explanation was a complicated cycle that included rats, slugs, feces, flies, and bad luck. The flies deposited microscopic larvae on unrefrigerated and unwashed fruits or vegetables, which then passed into my digestive system when eaten. It lodged in my intestines, gradually growing until it had to be surgically removed. Since then, I have religiously washed fruits and vegetables before consuming them as part of an overall program of monitoring my gut health.

These maladies seem common only to people not originally from Costa Rica. My three adult kids, all born and raised here, have never had this issue. Nor has my Tica wife, nor any of her family, nor anyone else I know, save a few other gringos. For me it is like clockwork. Every half year, just when the thought of intestinal parasites has vanished from my mind, they return. And every half year, I return to the pharmacist and give thanks to science and medicine for providing the cure.

Thanks, nickcarraway! You can always be counted upon to provide a "feel-good" story!

I had a similar operation only a few years ago:

Regards,

Baja California, Messco

While living in San Diego 40 years ago, I went with friends and family to Tijuana and Baja California, mostly for lobsters and Margaritas at Rosarita beach. While I generally had fun there was an overwhelming sense of sadness as well. The government gangsters who had robbed the Messkin treasury and bled the petrochemical/oil industry dry tried printing their way out of an inflationary spiral which went into hyperinflation, further depressing the economy. My pleasant memories of those trips are overlayed with images of Kahlua, cheap vanilla extract and bizarre pottery, starving dogs, scabies-ridden children, garbage everywhere, flies and dust, mucho dust.

I try to say “mucho” around my hispanic friends, it means a lot to them.

Ahem…

On one trip, a kid, maybe 10, with a tray of the ubiquitous Chiclets and string of Churros around his neck said “I watch your car!” and, laughing, I said sure, you watch my car not really understanding the agreement.

My sister and I - each - had a pitcher of ‘ritas and platters of lobsters, rice, beans, piles of tortilla chips and salsa over the next hour or two accompanied by live Mariachi music. The meal, plus tip came to about my last $20. Oh, she had her purse stolen earlier in the day in TJ and I hadn’t brought more money as the ATM was broken or something, surely they have ATMs in Messco, right? In 1984?

Young and stupid go together like old and wise, only stupider.

I DID have a bunch of Messkin coinage and bills stuffed in my ashtray from a previous trip which I handed the kid when we left. I was surprised he stayed so long. I gave him several hundred Pesos which - I learned later - due to the hyperinflation, by that time was now worth about ten cents in USD. I’ll never forget the look on his face - several HUNDRED Pesos - I thought it was extravagant at the time and I’ve become a much better tipper since, believe me.

I prayed we’d get home without incident, and did, and until Cambodia, Baltimorgue and DC many years later my voluntary ventures into the third world were over.

Besides, the dementiacrats, globalists and deep state actors have imported enough of the third world much of the America I grew up in is now a sh!thole country. The invaders brought their low-IQ deplorable hygiene practices, diseases virtually eradicated here and parasites with them so we are ALL at greater risk.

“””””Looks like it. I saw that movie in the theater in ‘59.”””””

They gave out little plastic disks with a T on it, and of course the wired theatre seats to shock the audience (children) at the right moment.

“One thing that is very rarely discussed is the fact that patrons in some theaters were given a special glow-in-the-dark Tingler button, or amulet, which was about the size of a nickel, and which was supposed to keep the Tingler away.”

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