Five days stuck with dengue taught me something I usually ignore:
My body has limits.
And it will enforce them whether I listen or not.
This time, it was loud.
Pain everywhere.
Fevers that wouldn’t break.
Exhaustion so deep it felt structural.
Diarrhea.
A persistent cough.
A bonus urinary infection, just to round things out.
Still, I’m stronger every day now.
That wasn’t my experience the last time.
In 2023, I had dengue too.
The dangerous kind. Hemorrhagic dengue.
The twist was how quiet it was.
No fever.
Just fatigue and body pain.
I didn’t even know what it was until I collapsed at work.
They took me to the ER.
Blood tests showed 89,000 platelets.
“Hydrate like a maniac,” they said.
So I went home and did exactly that.
The next day I came back for another test.
59,000 platelets.
They admitted me immediately.
I was sent to the ICU.
Machines beeping.
That constant hospital sound you can’t escape.
The next morning, still in the ICU, my platelets dropped again.
29,000.
My liver enzymes were over 150.
AST and ALT completely altered.
I wasn’t just sick.
I was in real danger.
The doctors drew blood every eight hours.
I was hooked to IV fluids constantly — at least twenty bags a day.
That was the only thing keeping me from bleeding internally.
Four days later, things finally turned.
160,000 platelets.
I survived.
Not because I pushed harder.
Not because I was “strong.”
Because my body was given the conditions it needed to recover.
That’s the part I keep thinking about now.
We love the idea of resilience.
We romanticize endurance.
But the truth is simpler and less flattering:
The body keeps score.
And when it decides you’re done, you’re done.
This second round of dengue didn’t scare me the same way.
It reminded me.
Rest isn’t weakness.
Limits aren’t negotiable.
Ignoring warning signs doesn’t make you brave.
It just delays the bill.
My final takeaway?
Respect your body.
And yes—
Fuck Aedes aegypti.
-Jairo
