The Hospital

I've become very familiar with Thai hospitals, well, one in particular: Bumrungrad. This is a hospital like no other. You can ask me anything, and I'd probably know the answer. Is is clean? Do they speak English well? What floor is women's medicine on? And what about digestive diseases (very important place living in Thailand), or the wellness center? How is the ER?

I've spent the past week in and out of the hospital and quite a place it is. I've experienced an abundance of its services, in both the new wing and the old wing, though an ordinary Bangkokian probably wouldn't know the difference, I know. Don't worry, I'm fine and all is well...now. I'm usually not this public about my health, but I feel that I must explain my absence and lack of responsiveness to my friends and family, but I'd also like to blog about the experience because it was very revealing. I'll start from the beginning.

Upon returning home from Europe, Thailand just seemed so happy to have me. First, I collapsed on the subway--either from exhaustion or dehydration or maybe just not eating enough? I was taken to the first-aid room by a very kind woman, who also bought me an orange juice from a local vendor, and awoken with Thai sniffing balms--they love them here. A woman rubbed my temples with the balm to calm me, and gave me juice and a Thai cure-all medicine. I was so touched about how concerned all the women were, hoping that I was okay. I don't think anyone anywhere in the US would be this concerned and caring to a stranger. I tried to pay the woman for the juice, or the skytrain workers for the balms and medicine, but they all refused. That's not the Thai way.

Three days later, I fell into a sewer. I was in a food market waiting for Kate to get her bubble tea when I walked over it and fell in. The sewer gave and I hurt my shin--a scrape and a bone bruise on my shin that still hurts. Just as I yelled out in pain how I hated Thailand--poor sidewalks and infrastructure here do bother me--a crowd of vendors, security guards and strangers from the market rushed over to help me, it was quite a scene. A girl gave me band-aids for my cuts, a guard brought out some antibacterial spays, and a woman even offered me a beer; I kindly declined and explained I had to go back to work. I was overwhelmed again, by the number of people who wanted to help me, and who refused to let me give them something for it--to pay the girl, who was clearly very poor, for the band-aids, for example. I wanted to take back the thing I said about hating Thailand as I was falling in, crying in pain. I love Thailand, and I loved the people.

But I digress, on to the hospital. After coming back from Bali when Christina left, I got sick. Very sick. My health certainly seems to be off this month. I went out to lunch with my office at a Vietnamese restaurant and four hours later, I was uncontrollably vomiting. I was in so much pain and I tried to go home. Luckily, the traffic in Bangkok worked in my favor, for once, and the cabbie refused to take me because of the traffic. So, I got out of the cab, barely able to stand up, and right in front of the US Ambassador's gorgeous house complex (it has a moat), I vomited. And I kept vomiting and people were staring. I knew I had to get back to my office building, across the street to get into the bathroom. I rushed to the bathroom, where I could be sick in peace, oxymoron, I know, until I passed out on the floor.

Soon after, a Thai woman who worked at Au Bon Pain right on the ground floor of our office building came in and found me, tried to wake me with her sniffers, and went to get help. I was in so much pain, I could not move. She brought in a security guard, tried to get me to go to the hospital, but I thought I just had a bad bout of food poisoning (episode 5 in 4 months!) so I didn't want to go. Eventually she got me up, took me to a back couch in ABP, and let me rest, gave me a plastic bag for emergencies and came in every 5 minutes or so to check on me.

It soon became apparent that I needed to go to the hospital, so Amelia (my roommate), came to pick me up and bring me to the hospital. She was amazing and talked to the doctors, since I clearly couldn't. I was taken into the ER in a wheelchair from the taxi and serviced immediately--no wait, nothing. I was treated by a nurse and doctor quickly, who told me I needed an IV and needed to stay overnight. I was given a chart to select my room--they give you different options with corresponding prices. Did I want a room to myself for 6,000B a night? Or to share a room for 3,000B? Or a four bed room, or a six bed room? It was as if I was checking into a medical hotel.

I was taken to my room and my misery began. I developed a fever. My IV swelled my entire wrist and hand. I was woken up every two hours for my temperature and blood pressure. But, I was given pain medication, which it didn't work incredibly well, and the service was great. And I had an all-in-one remote was attached to my bed: it controlled the bed, the TV, the lights and called the nurses. Basically, my body continued to leak for about 24 hours.

When I finally left the hospital--I begged to be discharged early, even though the doctor wanted me to stay another day and night--I was weak and worn and had no energy. I couldn't sit up without being dizzy and I could barely eat. I've never felt so drained and lifeless before, ever. But, I began on my road to recovery, with my 3 medicines, electrolyte packets and restricted diet. They were still trying to figure out what caused my severe episode, but would have an answer shortly.

A few days later, just as I was able to walk and leave my apartment and eat simple foods, I started to feel pain again. I called my doctor and it turned out that I didn't have a parasite or a bacterial infection--I had nothing at all, according to the tests he did. I had to come in and see my doctor.

I went back to the hospital and waited. The digestive diseases center was filled exclusively with Arab people--women in burqas and men in traditional or conservative wear. In my deranged state, I started to wonder if Arab people had bad particularly bad stomachs and if I was in fact part Arab. This clearly wasn't the case, but does speak to the hospital's main demographic, as I've mentioned before--wealthy oil men and their families who come from the Middle East to Bumrungrad, the best hospital in Thailand for elite treatment.

Indeed, the care is superb. I like my doctor here better than my gastroenterologist in NY. He's incredibly smart and thorough, and knows his stuff. When I came in and he felt around for my pain, he was able to identify specific areas where he thought my problems were, and suggested I take the next steps to determine my illness.

Needless to say, I had two very unpleasant procedures that I won't discuss here. The procedures themselves weren't unpleasant since I was asleep under local anesthesia, but the preparation and after-effects were quite awful. But, they were the right thing to do and did lead to a diagnosis and treatment--I'm fine, nothing serious, everything I have is controllable and can be monitored--and I am much, much happier now.

But, these rocky experiences this month showed me a lot about the Thai people and have really made me love Thailand, oddly, even though I seem to be allergic to it. They've also made me feel lucky because as bad as this was for me, I know that not only was I able to afford top treatment, but also I know that some people here go untreated and would experience worse in terms of their health and wellness. I'm reminded of this everyday on the street when I see blind people singing for money, or burn victims begging, or people with terrible deformities living on the street. I'm also reminded of this through my work for "The Vagina Monologues" here, when visiting our local partners and the women they help--seeing women who have been beaten or raped--I know that what I experienced, though jarring, especially in a place far away from home, cannot even compare to what some of the people face here.

I recognize that this seems to be a bit of a tangent and doesn't seem to relate, but my experiences this past month have made me value my own health, something I take for granted, and my situation in life, with access to health care and help, something that many do not have. I've come out of this rocky month with a renewed sense of purpose here in Thailand, and hope that I can give back to the community that has so willingly helped me when I needed it. Will keep you posted on how I do...