My head is spinning as I try to sit up. I try to reach a hand to my brow, but something seems to tie me to the bed. My eyes are covered with a cloth, so I cannot see my surroundings. I hear someone making a hushing sound. Something touches my shoulder, as if to make me stay on my back.

"Stay where you are," they say as something damp touches my forehead. "A few more days rest and you will go home."

The accent in the voice is very distinct, and the broken English tells me that I am not amongst my fellow Americans. Not that it is a problem, but surprising.

"Where am I?" I ask, but my voice can barely be heard. Instead of attempting a second time, I send my prayer to the heavens. God can see me; I know He is in control.

A wave of nausea comes over me, causing me black out into unconsciousness again.