Raleigh international australia

People stretched out on the dirty floor, the smell of urine in the air, cockroaches everywhere. I am placed in a wheelchair and taken inside. I awaken from my pain-killer induced stupor and look at him to gauge if he is being serious. They want to leave me here, by myself. I speak no Spanish whatsoever and the doctor does not speak English.

This is about the time that I start to suspect I was in for a truly unpleasant experience. I did not know what the Spanish doctor said to Jim but obviously, my condition was not serious enough to warrant further action.

I am given oral antibiotics, which do fuck all. A couple of days pass, I still feel very sick. The red lines seem to be moving up my leg but Jim assures me they are not. The HQ team keep me busy, I am instructed to help out with the radio and given shitty little jobs — from shining battery plates to mending sleeping bags. I must have spent three days at HQ before I got drastically more sick. I kept vomiting, broke out in cold sweats and could not keep food down. Jim gave me something to stop me being sick and I was bundled into a taxi headed for the private hospital in San Jose.

The drive was not fun. The sickness tablets had a side effect — hallucinations. I struggled to hold it together. Jim said nothing to me the whole journey.

Eventually, we arrived at the hospital, he left almost straight away. I was now alone. I drifted into an uneasy sleep. The doctor charted the course of the infection, as it spread further and further up my leg by drawing on me with a pen.

I had injections four times every day and fluid IVs twice a day. I slept fitfully and often. Once, determined to make it to the bathroom rather than piss in a cup again, I swung my legs over the bed and tried to walk. The second my foot touched the floor, I passed out from the pain and pissed myself. Besides the odd conversation with my doctor, who spoke English, I talked to nobody face to face, I felt totally alone.

The hospital itself was nice, my insurance paid for it, but my mental condition by this point was very poor. When I was eventually discharged, the worst of the infection being over, and collected by Raleigh I was told, in no uncertain terms, that they recommended I go home. I punched a wall until my knuckles bled. This whole time I had imagined I would swiftly recover and that the adventure could begin afresh. I was wrong. Returning home, I met my parents at the airport.

It was an emotional moment. It took me a few months to realise just how incredibly close I had come to dying. The trouble was not yet over, my left leg kept acting up — aching and swelling to twice its normal size. After a year, I finally went to a specialist who confirmed the worst.

The infection had permanently damaged my leg and induced full blown lymphodoema. My leg was now prone to painful swelling every time I ran. I would never be a marine. There is currently no cure for lymphodoema, it can only be managed. I would probably have to wear a tight compression stocking for rest of my life.

What followed I can only describe as an ascent into full-blown mental illness. It took me over a year to get over it. I was in pieces, and desperately lonely, much of the time. Every now and again photos of the expedition from the friends I made on Raleigh would pop up on Facebook, they broke my heart. I was eventually prescribed antibiotics for life to stop the infection ever returning and tight, black, compression stockings to stop my leg from swelling.

They are hot and uncomfortable but I am wearing them even now, sat upon a bus as it races across Nicaragua and on to Costa Rica, where it all started. All in all, volunteering for Raleigh International did change my life. It changed me irreparably. The only thing I truly mourn is the chance to be in the marines.

The pain, humiliation and loneliness that I endured on my expedition have helped me to become a stronger, kinder and more patient person. One of my first thoughts whilst lying in the hospital bed, expecting to lose my leg, was that I would probably never get to travel again. I clung to that whilst recovering in the UK: I vowed that I would travel again, I would prove my own pessimistic thoughts to be wrong. Since then, I have travelled to over seventy countries and have begun to make a name for myself in travel blogging.

I have found a new way of proving myself physically; Crossfit throwdowns competitions. My mental health is better than ever and I have helped play a small role in inspiring others to travel, something that continues to bring me pride.

It is hard for me to end this story, especially as I did not know I planned to tell it until I started to write, but if I leave you with one thought, let it be this — I have managed to overcome my fears. Through perseverance, I have realised my dream of continuing to travel despite my bad experiences. If I can do it, so can you. At some point on your travels, something will go wrong, I hope it is not serious but even if it is — see it as a learning curve, buckle up, strap in and prepare to hit the road again.

You can achieve anything you put your mind to. Now, when I look back on this event, it does still hurt but I am able to recognise it as one of the most important things that ever happened to me. It put me on my current path and, without this injury, I doubt I would be who I am today.

Sometimes the greatest adversities present the greatest challenges. I did Op. Raleigh in before it became a business and was a completely different experience!

Glad that you shared your story, glad people will take youth expeditions seriously and really glad you bounced back! The positivity that you exude even after all of that is awesome! Will, my year-old daughter wants to volunteer with Raleigh International to Tanzania this summer. What caveats would you offer? I just cannot advise on that — apologies. I was thinking about signing up for Raleigh International in Borneo, and I found many reviews saying how great their experiences were. Your blog makes me have a second thought…Now I am reading news articles about some very unfortunate volunteers who actually died.

I am happy for you that you overcame your challenges. Hi Will, it was again so interesting to read your so well written details and feeling finished and abandoned with the leg lymphoedema. Again I can relate my near identical situation which may indicate the cause. My situation was being severely scratched by coral reef in East coast Malaysia, my whole leg was like yours but luckily I had hospital close by and diagnosis was Strep or Staphylococcal infection, and after 50 years I still get swollen.

Hey Rich! Aw man, still swelling ey? Mine is doing the same. I exercise often to keep it down and it seems to work! Best of luck to you dude, as one man with lymphodoema to another, keep on trucking dude. Wow Alice! Thanks for sharing an incredibly fascinating and amazing part of your life. You have a gift. Find out more about our work. What you can do Volunteer with us to work on international sustainable development projects to create lasting change, join our worldwide environmental campaign, and see how our global community of young leaders are leading action on the change they demand.

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