ChiKat

Today we flew from La Paz to Cuzco and had quite a health scare. My son keeps getting feverish at night, and has a stuffy nose and dry cough during the day. We've been explaining it way as a reaction to pollution or the stress of traveling, but today he was just not himself. He kept falling asleep (which he never does – he's a bundle of energy usually), his heart was racing and his breathing was labored.

Really, it was the sleeping that bothered us. He would just lay limp and unresponsive in my husband's arms. We would try to wake him and he would barely be able to drag his eyes open.

I've spent the entire year wishing my son would sleep more, but this was not a healthy sleep. At one point, my husband was worried that our son had actually become unconscious because he was so unresponsive. He was sweaty and lethargic.

We spent about 10 minutes panicking quietly in our room. We had read about high altitude sickness, and one rare symptom was pulmonary edema…which could be fatal.

My husband, who is more medically savvy than me, was quietly and steadily panicking because my son had many of the symptoms of pulmonary edema.

I went downstairs to get help, and my husband spent the time holding our son, praying we hadn't killed him by choosing to travel.

Because we were traveling with my brother and his friends, we were able to talk to the American doctor at the La Paz embassy. He was incredibly helpful and gave us very clear instructions. We were to get our son oxygen, in case he was having a problem with the altitude, and we were to get him to a doctor immediately.

We had just arrived in Peru. We had no idea where anything was located and we spoke very little Spanish. We went to the front desk and told the, in English, that we needed oxygen and a doctor.

The instantly brought us a tank of oxygen and a mask for our son (which he HATED and spent the entire 15 minutes SCREAMING at the TOP of his lungs…which the hotel staff assured me was fine, because it meant he was taking big lungfuls of the oxygen in between screams).

When we asked about the doctor, the hotel staff assured us that a doctor would be arriving at the hotel within 10 minutes.

Sure enough, within 10 minutes, an English-speaking doctor arrived, spent 30 minutes examining our son, another 30 minutes talking to us, diagnosed him with infected tonsils, prescribed antibiotics and assured us that our son would be fine.

Total cost: $70.

And we say we don't have a problem with healthcare in this country.

My son is not 100%. He doesn't have his usual energy and good cheer. I think he is tired. We have been getting up early and he hasn't had his usual naps.

For the last two nights, he has developed a fever at bedtime. I know he hates sleeping at night, but giving yourself a fever to avoid sleep seems a little extreme even for our son.

The fever goes away with a little Motrin, so I'm not too worried. But I do think the pollution is bothering him.

Bolivia is the poorest country in South America. The official retirement age is 65, at which time residents are eligible for free healthcare and social security. However, only 4% of the population survives to 65.

Despite the extreme poverty, the Bolivians follow the ancient Incan rules: Don't Lie; Don’t Steal; Don't Be Lazy.

There are very few beggars and no aggressive begging at all. In China, we were constantly harassed by people asking for money or selling crap. We haven't experienced anything like that here.

In London, if you get into a non-official taxi, the driver will often hide the meter and demand an exorbitant fare when you reach your destination. In Bolivia, the cab drivers (of which there were HUNDREDS because gas is very inexpensive) will always tell you the fare at the beginning of the ride, so you can agree on the price.

Rather than meters or per-mile charges, there seems to be three rates: close, a little ways, and far.

Keep in mind, this is a city of 2 million people. It is huge. So "close" is a fifteen-minute cab ride. "A little ways" is a 30-minute cab ride and "far" is everything else. Going across the entire city costs the equivalent of one or two U.S. dollars.

The cabs are clean. The drivers are polite and friendly. The service is a million times better than anything I experienced in Chicago.

People here are extremely friendly. Many of them, especially the older women, will stop and coo over our son. It's a delightful experience to travel with him. We interact more with locals because of him. I am kicking myself for not brushing up on my Spanish before coming here.

I was right. My son had a massive screaming fit around 2 AM. I think his throat is sore from the dry air on the flight and the pollution here. He's developed a cough that kept waking him up at night. When he woke-up in the Pack-n-Play, he apparently became possessed by demons and the only thing that would exorcise them was sleeping in our bed. I'm sure the other hotel guests are delighted that we are here.

We are staying at a very nice hotel in La Paz, Bolivia. We requested a crib for our room. Several hours later, a Graco Pack-n-Play arrives. I have traveled to Colorado, Michigan, Champaign-Urbana and now Bolivia. In every hotel, the crib is always a Graco Pack-n-Play.

Does Graco market to hotels? Do they go hotel door-to-door selling their wares? There are other Pack-n-Plays on the market, but Graco, in my admittedly limited experience, seems to dominate the hotel crib market.

Maybe it's a marketing ploy. My mother saw the Pack-n-Play at the hotel in Champaign-Urbana and immediately wanted to buy one for her own house.

If it's a marketing ploy, I am not surprised at the coverage in the U.S. But I have to admit, I'm surprised the Graco folks have made it all the way to Bolivia.

My son, of course, could care less. He laughs heartily at the very idea that he will actually sleep in the Pack-n-Play. I have no doubt that by midnight, he will have screamed and squirmed his way into our bed. Ah, family vacations.