Tyra Banks Aint Got Shit on Bali

Last week I watched an episode of America's Next Top Model that was set in Bali. In it, Tyra Banks told the models, "You don't choose Bali, Bali chooses you." Well Tyra Banks is an idiot because trust me you fucking choose Bali.

 Bali is/ my trip was unbelievably awesome.  I cannot wait to go back because I am certainly not finished there. I wish I could put into words how beautiful that island is. The people are so friendly, that upon arrival I convinced myself I was about to be trafficked. But here's why and it might even sound fairly reasonable for a lone Western female to think this. I got off the plane and had arranged for my homestay to come pick me up. When I get through the arrival hall there's a bunch of dudes along the edge. All of them have signs, which are face down on the ground where they're sitting. I went up and asked someone if they'd seen a sign for my place and a few of them chatted and said no. About five minutes later this man comes up to me and asks where I'm staying. He says he looked up the number of his phone and called them and that the driver is on his way. Ok, so that does sound kind of sketchy right? He shows me the number he has called, but not long enough for me to be able to see it. I then get the number from him and call it, but it doesn't work. This is wear opening moments of Taken start playing through my head. He tells me to wait by this column where  realize I can't see any of the men holding signs, so if the driver shows up I won't be able to see him. Meanwhile, I'm running all this through my head, but not actually doing anything. What would I do, run away? A few minutes pass and I see a man walk past with my name on it and other information I'd only given the homestay. So everything was fine, a waste of panic, and I'd like to say better safe than sorry but really I didn't do anything that made me any safer.

 We get in the car, the driver is super friendly and we're chatting about Bali and Indonesia and passing by the window are temples and art museums and craft shops and warehouses where people carve out beautiful teak wood furniture and stone sculptures of Hindu gods. I knew right then that my trip was already going to be too short and some day (hopefully sooner than later) I'd be back in Bali. They even have Dunkin Donuts...fyi.

After an hour drive, I arrived in Ubud which is the cultural hub of Bali. I did a homestay which was more like a bed and breakfast, but the family was super friendly and helpful and there were a few other guests staying as well. Home made Balinese breakfast of crepes stuffed with banana and topped with toasted coconut in the morning was just what I needed. The home was in a gated compound and most of the gates look like temples themselves so it's easy (for me at least) to wonder into someone's house thinking it's a temple...Yes that happened. I spent only two days there, most of which was spent wondering in and out of actual temples along the street and nomming out on Balinese food, which is absolutely delicious. Bali is about as cheap as Thailand with a few differing exceptions. Food is cheaper and cheese is readily available, spa treatments are about the same, clothing is more expensive in Bali and so it transportation. But food and spa take priority so I could totally live there.

View from the First Cafe I went to

With my skin feeling like absolute butter by the second day, I took off for Amed which is the east part of the island. I knew I wanted to spend some time on the water, but also wanted to avoid all the bad touristy things I'd hear about Kuta. After some research and finding an awesome bed and breakfast, I decided Amed was going to be my beach destination. The same driver who took me from the Airport to Ubud offered to take me to Amed so we set off on our two hour drive.

I've always thought that one of the best ways to get a good feel of a place is to drive it. That way you can't avoid some of the things the tourism industry tries to keep hidden. However, Bali is a place that's clearly preserved it's culture and it's resources. I'm always hesitant when people say they want a cultural experience when they go somewhere, because it seems very 'let me stand back and observe your people' which is weird. For example, if you come to Bangkok looking for that, you can stay at a five star resort and see a traditional Thai dance show by fairly non-traditional hotel staff who've lived in the city all their life.  I think that's just the result when people go to a place with the mentality of show me your culture but I want hot water and a Western breakfast. Regardless, I didn't get that sense in Bali and driving up the coast I saw people living in similar compounds to the one I'd stayed in and just going about daily life. Most of them doing some kind of physical labor or craft.

Having just finished First They Killed My Father, I've been thinking a lot about how close families are in Eastern culture. In these compounds whole families fill them and each take care of each other, and in the book even though the family was divided over and over again family was such a priority and it made me wish I had something more similar to that. If any member of my family ( including myself) said family was their number one priority they'd be lying. But out here, they support each other so much and have such a vested interest in one another's well being and it's really, I don't know, nice.

Rice Patties on the Eastern Coast of Bali

For two hours we drove past coastline, where the ocean looked like the color of one of my favorite crayola crayons as a child. We passed rice fields that looks like some kind of labyrinth and black sand beaches. The driver asked me if I liked music and expecting him to put on some Balinese music I said yes. After about a minute of static, some kind of Taylor Swift dubstep mix came blaring through the speakers. I, in no way, saw this coming and I couldn't help but laugh. The music never lightened up and I smiled the whole rest of the way wondering if he actually made this mix or where on earth he got it from.

 We drove up and down what seemed like cliffs hanging over the water's edge to find the place I was staying, and when I arrived I knew it was worth it to make the trip up from Ubud. A gorgeous pool that overlooked the water, a restaurant outside with tuna steak and wasabi on the menu, and $1 snorkel rental gear. There were only three rooms in the place and when the man opened up the door to my room, I was so happy I could have screamed. It actually took everything in me, not to scream. A balcony with a table to eat and a sofa all that overlooked the ocean. The entire wall facing the balcony was a window and sliding doors, so the water would be the first thing I saw in the morning. Even the bathtub had a view of the water. It was fantastic.

Even though Bali is one of the most popular honeymoon destinations (and I understand why), I'm really glad I went there by myself. Sometimes it's hard to tell if you really liked a place or whether you liked your experience there because of the people you were with.  For example: I loved HongKong when I went, but I'm not sure if I'd like it if I was there without the same people doing the same thing I did the last time. Anyways, it was the perfect place to think and reflect on this past year and it made me think about how I used to really hate being alone, like I'd never do anything by myself, but now I actually really enjoy it. Especially that trip because there was no pressure to get up and do activity 1 through 4 before 6pm or something I could just do whatever I wanted. A while back I watched this clip of Louis CK talking about how nobody knows how to just be by themselves anymore and it's true. It's so hard for people to just sit and not check their phone or be playing candy crush. No one wants to stop and think about what they're doing, why they're doing it or where they're going. And it's funny because all over Southeast Asia I see people just sitting on curbs or stoops and I wondered what they were waiting for. Now I get that they don't have to be waiting.

It was the perfect place to clear my mind before returning to my beloved city of squalor that is Bangkok. I feel like I say this every post recently or at least I think about saying it and then forget, but I've learned so much this past year and I think developmentally this has probably been the best year of my life. Bangkok taught me how to grow the fuck up, the accountant taught me how to dress, and a collection of receptionist taught me how to be a lady ;)  Overall, I'd have to just say WINNING

View from my Balcony in Amed

News from the Islands

So I'm back from Koh Lanta and yes it was beautiful...

As usual the journey there was interesting to say the least. I met Ben and Sam at the airport in Krabi, with Ben's friend, who was visiting from England, Georgia. We got on a van then transferred to another that would take us to Koh Lanta through two ferries. It ended up taking 4 hours instead of 2 and there was "one of those guys" in our van, who kept telling this woman how terrible it was to live in China and how all the houses leak and it's over crowded  and awful, but his job is wonderful because he works in luxury ( a restaurant review website). All the while he's ranting about China, his Chinese wife is sitting right next to him. I couldn't help but think to myself, how on Earth does she love you, how does anyone.

Before this hater started talking I had been reading First They Killed My Father, which I think I mentioned last time, as I'm trying to become better informed. By the way, becoming better informed is exhausting. Every time I learn something, I just learn of more gaps in my knowledge that I need to fill. Anyways, if you haven't heard of the book it's about the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. It's really really depressing, but that day this particularly line really struck me as a haunting image.

 "When the bodies are finally buried, they are nothing but large nests of maggots."

I'm not going to get into exactly whose bodies she's talking about but I'll tell you if you ever go to Cambodia, you realize quickly that there are entire generations missing from the population. ^^That's why.

After our trek in the van we finally arrive at our hotel resort, which Georgia had found.  It was absolutely beautiful to have a view of the ocean at breakfast and the pool from our room. In case, any of you are thinking that's not travelling staying at places like this, my response is No shit, I was on vacation. Now why was I on yet another vacation. Well, obviously because I don't work that.

We arrived late, so we spent most of the following morning at the pool getting the essential first day sunburn. That afternoon we went into town looking for lunch and some activities for the following day. We settled on a 4 Island snorkeling tour and found a place on the water to get seafood. After going back to the hotel, we were all so 'burnt out' from sunbathing we just enjoyed a few beers on our balcony before falling asleep. But not without plenty of pillowtalk ; )

The next morning we left our place at 8am to drive almost the whole length of the island to get into our longtail boat for the day. On the boat with us were a bunch of other people, almost all couples except three. Our hotel was also filled with couples then later those same couples ten years down the road with annoying children also showed up. Anyways, the boat had a lot of characters. Two German couples, one of which the husband nearly tipped the boat every time he got into the water. An adorable Belgium couple, a Thai family, a Spanish guy, and a crazy British woman who kept trying to get us to come and walk the dogs at the animal welfare center she volunteered at. We took the boat to the first island where they anchored in and told us to get off and snorkel. First, let me just say EVERYONE hates a mouth breather so we all try not to do that. However, when snorkeling that's all you are supposed to do and it can be an awkward transition. Needless to say the first time, I got a bit panicky when my mask puffed off my face and disgusting seawater came flushing into my mouth. Eventually, it evened out and I was able to relax a bit more and see a lot of cool coral and fish and whatnot. Due to surprise changes with previously nonfunctional organs, (yay for baby-making abilities: boo for attracting sharks) I didn't stay in the water long after the first shark siting, despite the fact it was only a foot long. We went to another spot for snorkeling and saw a bunch of hanging bats on some cave walls on the way. The water was gorgeous and blue and warm and we got in again for about a half hour. After climbing back on-board we went to another island for lunch, where we got to just hang out and be on the beach. We'd been off land for four hours at that point so it was nice to touch down on solid ground. The beach there was beautiful as well.

After lunch, we went to this cave we were meant to go inside of. The water got really choppy and a bunch of people looked like they were on the verge of getting sick. It was to the point I wondered if I'd get sick despite having some established sea-legs. Instead, I put my head back and hummed the words to "Wagon Wheel" the whole time. When we arrived at the cave entrance the water had gotten so high there was only about 6 inches that were still above water, they told us it was to high for us to go in and get out safely and looking at it, it was pretty easy to pass up, though I had been looking forward to it. Instead they took us to another place to snorkel which ended up being the best. We saw all kinds of colorful fish including Parrot fish, which I enjoy staring at. One of the crew guys from our boat managed to pick up a sea urchin which was cool and two people cut their feet on the coral. We headed back to our resort for a short break before headed back into town to find dinner. We ended up going into this restaurant where a random select few dressed like pirates and there was a taco buffet for their 3 year anniversary. Made no sense, but the food was great. By the time we left their was monsoon rain so we did what any person would do and got chocolate and banana and Nutella roti/pancakes. It was delicious. We found a ride back and spent the rest of the evening curled up in a king size bed watching Goldmember and sipping Singha.

For reasons unknown, we all ate breakfast the next morning as if it was our last meal. The kitchen made eggs, pancakes, and french toast to order and to say we dabbled would be an understatement. After that Sam and I put all our stuff in Ben and Georgia's room and checked out. We then spent our remaining hours at the pool and the private beach, before our strange trip back, which included cutting a massive line of traffic after some random woman on the street gave our driver a piece of orange clothe and 500 baht.

This trip was planned to be our last hurrah as the three of us are coming to our end of contract and are figuring out our separate ways.  It definitely makes me sad to think about parting from the boys as they have been a constant reason for laughing. A midst many topics of pillow talk, I discussed how I've been truly happy with my life this past year. I'm choosing to leave now because I know my happiness here has an impending expiration date and I want to leave before it soils. That said, this past year I feel I've really thrived and I think it's because this is the first time in my life I actually feel successful. This doesn't mean like I felt like a failure up until now and I had success in things like school and whatnot before, but I'd never considered myself successful. This year I did everything for myself because for the first time, I could. I got my own place, could pay all my own bills, made my own friends, had a good job and learned SO much. The more I learn, the more I know I need to learn. The more awesome people I meet, the more I realize I can get rid of the assholes in my life. I'm really glad I didn't leave when my body failed...twice, but now I know I'm ready for the next chapter and whatever that may bring.

All I got was Dengue Fever and a Damn Hug

Whenever I go through something I think is exceedingly terrible I like to celebrate my triumph with...well dessert. Actually even if I'm not triumphant there's still dessert for effort, and even if I really didn't do a whole lot...you get the point. Bitch likes her dessert. Anyways, today was no different after coming off a week long bender known as Dengue Fever. I needed groceries for the week so I set off to the grocery store, but on the first floor I am lured by an impulse buy and purchase a white dress with black lace. I then carry on upstairs and proceed to buy FOUR MUFFINS. For whom? you may ask. Or you may assume the girls are still staying with me. But they aren't. Clearly I just wanted the dress as a closet ornament because I will never fit into it again and to be honest it didn't look that great pre-muffin so it's probably a lost cause anyways.
  This is going to have to be a long post as I never updated you all on my trip north because I was slowly dying instead. Then I'll tell you about how I slowly died.

Ok so we ended up flying to Chiangmai to cut down travel time. Upon landing there it was immediately  a thousand times more relaxed than Bangkok, which doesn't take much. We got a van that cost us a $1 each but the driver knew where he was going, kind of, and was chatty and helpful. Our hostel was cute and the guy running it Klai was super helpful and friendly. People were lounging around with a cat, Lyndsy immediately took too. Hilary, Lyndsy, and I went out that evening for a cooking class while Rachel's jetlag caught up with her and she decided to stay in. The cooking class was very fun. We made curry paste, which confirmed my earlier beliefs that I will never make it on my own because of the amount on unnecessary work behind it. We also made an appetizer and a stir fry. In the beginning they had us eat this plate of raw thins that serves as good luck. It's raw ginger, onion, roasted peanuts, a chili pepper and a honey. You take the whole thing in one bite and the flavors marry and its pretty good, until you get to the second bite when you realize you have way too much chili. This is the point I started quietly weeping. From that point on the snack was no longer enjoyable.

 
 When we got back to the hostel Rachel had made friends with, what looked like a German boy band. We were all chatting in the lounging area and one would stand up, walk out , and return fifteen minutes later with gel in his hair. At one point, one of them who wore his denim button up, dangerously low and unbuttoned asked us if American girls put a lot of work into getting ready on a daily basis like German girls. Oddly enough the Germans liked to tell us a lot about the American stereotypes they had. They were all fairly nice so I bit my tongue when they leaned towards asking us about German stereotypes. Calling someone a Nazi never made anyone any friends.

The next day, we had planned to go white water rafting but we found out after waiting for them to come pick us up that we were to have paid in advanced, which we didn't. We then decided we would rent motorbikes and drive up to this temple everyone told us we have to see. This day will fondly burn into my memory like an exhaust pipe.Hilary, Lyndsy and I trying to ride bikes. We tried to get the hang of it, just riding on backgrounds, but they were narrow and crowded and I drove into a ditch pretty quickly. Hilary drove into a convenience store and then very very slowly proceeded to fall over. Everyone involved and watching thought this was hilarious. I became Zoolander and was unable to turn left so through an intersection I flew into the other lane and came within inches of ramming a parked TukTuk, with the dismayed driver trying to snooze in the front. This was not an unpopular intersection and a group of 12 to 14 year old monks seemed only slightly amused, but more panicked by my driving abilities or lack there of. After a two hour conquest to find gas we set off for this temple, which was up a steep curving road, built for people who know how and enjoy riding motorcycles. It was incredibly fun and deathly scary. As I've found most things worth doing are terrifying at one point or another.

View of Chiangmai

 

The next day Rachel and Lynsdy went to an Elephant Park and Hilary and I took to the bikes again and went back up the same mountain to see some waterfalls. It was beautiful. Then we found lunch in the city and went back in time for the girls to be arriving back. We ate and played some drinking games with a new boyband of British dudes...and girls.

The next day we left on a very long journey to Chiang Rai. Though long, the drive was stunning. A greenery through the jungle. We stopped at the temple for only a half hour, but I'm glad we got to walk around and see it because it's so interesting. Statues carves within it make it look like a entrance to hell or something.

After the stop we continued to the golden triangle which is where Laos Myanmar and Thailand touch . It was gorgeous, but unfortunately I didn't get great pictures cause we were driving the whole time. Made me pay attention a bit more though, just looking around how beautiful the country side is. When you ask student's " what do you think is beautiful, what do you think is amazing. Thailand is amazing, Thailand is beautiful. Damn right it is.

Anyways, somewhere among all my crazy adventures, I got bitten by a particular mosquito carrying Dengue fever. If you're reading this you probably don't know shit about Dengue Fever. Neither did I. Just a scary word, travelers here about other things we never actually expect to happen to us. But as my friend put it, " dengue is a virus so the treatment I guess is lie there and suffer"for this reason there's not any quirky funny stories to really go alone with this hospital visit. My friends mom had me admitted so she handled everything I just got to lay there and be sick. Had a fever for a week, sweat a fair amount, had to pee in a bottle a lot, watched a lot of HBO, started reading First They Killed my Father, and slept more than a hibernating bear. Funniest part is my male friend sent this picture to my mom. My mom responded something along the lines of " your boobs look huge, are those what the IV is pumping fluids into?"

I apologize for the inconvenience of this post being riddled with typos and other grammatical mistakes. I'm lethargic, give me a break.

GERD takes Kaytia, Hortoni takes Thailand

A few days after running out of medication upon returning from Africa...yeah you know where this is going... I went out with my coworkers and ended up day drinking well into the next day. When I woke up that morning I was in immense stomach, chest and back pain. I kind of felt like I was having a heart attack, but since I have a track record of not giving a shit about my health I decided to wait it out. Eating was excruciating, but regardless I figured I did this to myself drinking and it would subside eventually. After about four days of constant heartburn like symptoms and a growing inability to swallow I went to a new gastro-specialist in hopes they would tell me more than "no spicy food."  She managed to say even less. She just gave me more of the medicine I ran out of and told me to go on a soft diet consisting of fish, yogurt, and ice cream...though not in that order or in combination. Needless to say there's nothing enjoyable about a soft/ liquid diet. The truth is I really just eat ice cream or soup. As someone who has a 'special' relationship with food, this way of life causes me great distress and when the symptoms continued on the fourth day, I decided I probably needed to go home for real this time.  However, after some preliminary  discussion with my mother, I became aware that the treatment for what is thought to be/ fairly self diagnosed GERD is pretty much the same in America. AKA they give you pills. I figured if I'm going to just be miserable eating pills and yogurt all day I might as well stay here and do it. In total, I've lost about twelve pounds since June and don't get me wrong, I think being skinny is pretty awesome, but being hungry fucking sucks and eating non-solid food is not what I'm evolved for. Why would I have teeth then?

One of the major things, actually pretty much the only major thing that anchored me here was the pending arrival of my dear friend and former college roommate, Lyndsy. After about a five hour delay total, she arrived with no bags at the BKK airport around 4am. I'm now only working nights and weekends, so we have time to actually do things during the day and she's found part time work already which is good, cause even though we live well together it is a one bedroom apartment. Today we explored the Grand Palace and Wat Prakeaw which I had not seen up until today, despite it being probably the biggest tourist spot in Bangkok. It was cool, but incredibly hot. We talked in our hick country accents for the day and took some pictures of us looking like straight up assholes. It was nice. It's nice to have someone around after working such long hours, just to come back and unwind with. We're trying to plan some trips, which is a tad difficult since I'm working 6 days a week now. However, she's joining Rachel and I on our trip to Chiang Mai in September.

In other news, my boss is leaving this Friday for a new chapter and I'm definitely sad to see her go. This is the first time I've truly been friends with my boss and definitely the closest in age I've ever been. She made the schedule for September already so really the new manager, who's merely helping out not taking on Fashion full time, just has to not make my life a living hell for the month of October and everything should be fine. Since Lyndsy will be here all this month and half September, with the addition of Rachel for September I'm expecting time to fly. In terms of my health, hopefully it will remain skinny, but more likely a mystery.

Ursula vs the Ovaries: An Epic Battle for My Womanhood and the Human Race

I was walking downtown with Amanda when a mob of crazy donut fans overran the streets for a doughnut rally on what allegedly was Donut Day. I should have taken this as a sign that Ursula would soon be coming back...

Ursula made her first appearance a few weeks back. After returning for a second term,  I returned to the hi-so  hospital for a new drug treatment. The next day I had a light breakfast of 1 piece of lightly buttered toast. Five hours later I began excessively vomiting up water and bile, but no toast.  Needing to go to the hospital I attempted and failed. Getting less that 50 ft before reaching a particular soi stench that immediately induced vomiting in of my neighbor's gutter. I returned to my bed where I stayed overcome by incredible stomach pains that resulted in an 8 hour period of immobility. I knew this wasn't going to get better by the morning so I finally stood up, went downstairs and asked the security guard to call me a cab. He, of course, pretended not to know what I was talking about. When I pointed to the cab service number on the wall he smiled and pointed back to me. Through some angry charades and me ordering him (in Thai) to call a taxi to the nearest hospital he eventually did.
    The nearest hospital is Bang Po and it's the same one I'd been to the first time I had this stomach problem, however, when I went back for my follow-up the one English speaking nurse wasn't there and eventually I left.

When I arrived at the ER I told them I had a lot of stomach pain. It took about thirty minutes before I saw the one doctor working in the ER. They took an X-Ray and found lots of what's called " free- floating fluid" in my abdomen. The doctor said she didn't know how it got there, but that it was bad.  They would need a CT scan to figure it out. Then a surgeon comes in and tells me the CT scan is 2,000 baht which then quickly changes to  20,000 baht. At which point I'm thinking maybe we skip that then. Then the same surgeon says "we need to monitor you over night and do a CT scan in the morning, but in the meantime we want to monitor your urine, at which point two nurses walk over with tubes. We want to do a catheter for your stay" "Mmm, I think not sir." "Are you denying our recommended treatment?" "Yes" "Okay, then you have to sign this saying you're going against our recommended treatment." "Okay, give me a pen."
 
They put me in the room, I'd end up spending the next week in. They took my blood every 3 hours to check my hemocrit levels. I don't know what those are, but mine dropped 10% and by the morning I looked like a heroine addict with all the holes in my arms. None of the nurses could form complete English sentences and one nurse in particular was extremely difficult to understand. Like many Americans probably would, she repeated herself extremely loudly when I responded that I didn't understand. It wasn't helpful and eventually made me quite stressed out, like on the fourth day when she came in and yelled HIV test, then a man shot me with a needle prick in the ear, that's a good example. The following day, they took me down for the CT scan that I couldn't afford. They handed me a bottle of some green water and told me to drink as much as I could. Then they told me they were gunna put some intravenous fluid through my veins while also putting some tube up my ass. I was pretty lethargic the entire time I stayed there, but a few highlights perked me back into life and my 'personality' definitely came through. This was one of those times. First, I was listening to him drone on about all this abuse they were gunna put me through but when he said they were gunna put some tube up my ass, for the first time, I flew upright, and responded "You want to do what?!?!"  " Your anus" was his response. "Ya, I don't want that." At this point the doctors obviously hadn't received this type of reaction before. Another doctor came out and said we're going to try something less invasive, we'll give you an ultra sound instead. "Yeah, you do that," I responded and went back to my lethargic state of being.

They wheeled me into where they do the ultra sound at which point they found the free floating fluid was almost exclusively blood. There seemed to be a large amount of it surrounding my uterus as well as floating in the abdomen. This is when I got handed over to the gynecologist. My first assigned fluent English speaking doctor, who stuck with me as my consulting doctor and later became my surgeon.  She gave me two more ultra sounds, one being the kind the US was trying to demand for abortion patients. Totally invasive and unnecessary. People should refuse doctors more, cause there's nearly always more than one kind of treatment option, hence the word option. Anyways, she said the blood looked like it was coming from an ovary as there may have been a cyst that burst.

So here's Red Flag # 1: I've been swallowing hormones since I was 15 with birth control, which  is supposed to prevent cysts. Red Flag #2: Cysts normally do not bleed. Red Flag #3 They don't bleed all the way up to your chest cavity.

At this point I'm laying in bed for hours at a time, strapped to an iv and generally unhappy. Nurses come in and out say "Pain" and hand me pills, or start giving me sponge baths without me having any idea what's happening.  I have no idea what I can actually afford, or what's happening. No idea whether these doctors know what they're doing or not, no confirmation of progress. One unlucky nurse came in to give me pain medication and I just broke down crying that I couldn't understand her and needed someone who can understand me to come in. She had enough English to say "Oh No" and that's when one of the two people who knew I was in the hospital walked in the door. My friend Tan, who's fluent in Thai came in to see me in all my glory. Sobbing in a hospital gown. He handled all my insurance claims with the staff and translated everything between the nurses and doctors and I.  He also restored my sanity for the next twenty-four hours.

So the mystery alludes but things becomes a smidge more clear as they are finding out more information. The gynecologist comes in and tells me she heard about me refusing the CT scan. She asks me to take it so they can check that it's the ovarian cyst rupture that's bleeding for sure because there's a chance it could be my pancreas or something wrong with my appendix.

Before I go on, I just want to say that there are certain things your body will never forgive you for. This blog post will only reveal most of them and remember this blog is a sacrifice for your own entertainment and the entertainment of others. Human decency does not live in hospitals.

As they wheeled me back down into the CT scanning room, I'd reached a new low. Depressed from being in the hospital alone for 3 days, lethargic from not having eaten solid food in 4 days, and looking like a piece of a dish rag that'd been forgotten under the dishwasher for 6 months. The only possible point you can be at before you throw your hands up and say "Fine, put the tube in my ass I don't even care anymore. Fuck all of you." The experience on the whole was extremely un-enjoyable. Of course they built up to the anus, first making me chug some fluid to highlight some organs. Then having run out of IV real estate, they put the IV in the side of my wrist which was uncomfortable to say the least. However, when they turned on the machine to pump the medicine into my veins I can't describe the feeling to you, but the noise that came out of me was the equivalent to the sound a dog makes when an old man kicks it in the ribs as hard as he can. I can't say what they did behind me, but I can tell you four different people were behind me watching it and when the scanning was over I told them to get me out immediately. The nurses, of course, started to panic and couldn't get the IV out so they ended up ripping the cap off, my blood spewed everywhere all over the floor and I grabbed my IV and booked it out of there to the bathroom. 

When I woke up that night, the gynecologist said the CT scan showed my organs weren't bleeding but they still weren't 100% sure if was an ovarian cyst rupture so they needed to do surgery to clean out all the blood that had gotten all up in my abdominal cavity and all the clots around my ovaries. She said if they couldn't clear the whole rupture and cyst then they would have to take out the ovary as well. I cried again, but this time more on principle. I felt like I was supposed to cry with the potential loss of an ovary. Then when I realized I wasn't crying cause I was going to actually miss it's presence I stopped crying and starting thinking maybe I really didn't want kids. Like 100%.

Although, I'd never spent a night in a hospital before or had surgery or even had an IV, I didn't feel scared or stressed anymore when she told me I was having surgery. The first few days in  the hospital where I couldn't communicate with most the staff in charge of my care was super stressful and as I said I had my breakdown. But after that it just became very different. There was no longer a sense of urgency or panic of not knowing. They were going in to stop the bleeding and that was pretty much it. There weren't other options, it's just what had to be done. I could finally sit back and let someone else deal with it.

This is the point in which the other side of the world became aware of my state. And my mother, true to form, went into panic, asking if she needed to fly me back or come out. When I was going into the ultra sound days before, I told the doctor if they couldn't find out what was wrong I was going back to America to figure it out. After the scan she told me if I left with whatever it was still bleeding that I could go into shock. This is when I realized my escape plan was squashed and I'd be committed to Bang Po Hospital until it everything was over. My mother coming out would have been expensive and useless as she speaks less Thai than I do and she's not well adapted to the whole sabai sabai attitude.

The 4th day, I went into surgery at 18:30. Earlier that day the anesthesiologist came to speak with me about 'the risks.' He said " It's a medium surgery, not minor or major, so the risks are medium, just the risks of doing surgery. But you are perfect candidate because you are healthy and young." That was it.  The financial team came in and handed me a note that read We take valuables in case of Finance this. Now reading this I'm interpreting it as we keep you rings if you can't pay. By the way This is what your Spanish teachers had to deal with in high school when you put shit into Google Translate. Some of this can kind of be understood, but when the nurse gave me a note reading You put a pot with my stool there was nothing I could do with that. These little treasure notes helped bring back my Thai attitude of just letting it go and laughing through it.

 Tan came in about ten minutes before the surgery and walked along side as they wheeled me to the OR.  They had me on a stretcher and made me transfer to the surgery 'bed'. Now in America I know they put you to sleep before they put you in the OR, but not in Thailand. I'm lying in the OR,  as they strap down my arms and cover me in a forest green sheet. The room itself is freezing and there's nothing in the center of the room but me. The lights above are the same ones you stare into at the dentist's office, but from 1976, browned and yellowed. There's about six people in the room, only two of whom are wearing gloves. The woman who I assume is the supervising surgeon is standing with her back to me collecting sharp objects and tools that she's going to be using to cut me open. The clinking of the tools and seeing them gather them up like an episode of Dexter definitely got to me and I tried to stare at the 70's lights and think of something else. Thankfully at this time they put the oxygen mask on me and I sucked that shit down as fast as I could.

What seemed like years later I woke up to see Hilary and Tan in what seemed like a silent film. The again later I opened my eyes to see a bunch of the staff from work sitting on the couch with flowers and cards. I remember holding A-ya's hand and then fading out again until about 5am when I fully woke up, but no one was there by then. The next day I laid in bed all day, but for the first time they offered me food. This was the menu...

A lovely selection of Oval Latinos and Boiled Cameras

But I couldn't eat. I had no appetite and the boiled camera wasn't like they promised. The day after surgery they injected morphine straight into my IV every three hours. Not my IV drip, but straight into my hand. Needless to say I wasn't incredibly useful that day, not like I had been anyways, but less than normal.
 The next few days were slow as I walked for the first time in 5 days. Trying to eat enough Boiled Cameras for them to release me. My friend Hilary was kind enough to let me stay with her the whole week to recover. Walking felt like... gravity.  Like every molecule in the ground was pulling at my uterus and like I needed to hold it in with every step so it didn't slip out my giant wound and fall on the floor. It took a few days before being able to walk upright, as the first few days I was walking like a 95 year old woman who'd been pregnant for the last decade.

My self portrait

   
If you're paying attention you may be wondering, uh didn't you go in for a stomach ulcer. Why Yes I did, which is why I'll be seeing the gastrointestinal specialist today, who happens to dress like a plumber, which I find very ironic. Turns out I'd just been doubling up on the fun the past two weeks, but Ursula definitely subsided as a result of being starved out by Bang Po hospital. Eating isn't the wholesome experience it was before, but hopefully that can be restored in the future.

You might think that spending so much time in a hospital I'd have time to reflect on some things. Well, Morphine isn't a very reflective drug, but since they went from giving me that to Tylenol my thoughts are a lot more clear now and I learned A LOT from being in that hospital:

I'm not exactly someone who people would describe as serene or peaceful, but I have however become an incredibly patient person in the last few years. At least in my opinion. Thailand definitely helps with patience in that you can be as rushed as you like, but it doesn't change the pace of anyone else, so you might as well just relax and mai pen rai ( not worry). A lot of things in this country work for me just by having a little faith. If you can't rush it and you can't make sure things go the way you want at some point you sit back, accept there is nothing to be done on your part and take a leap of faith to hope for the best. Now I've adapted well to this culture, but these past two weeks were a true test. Putting your health and care in the hands of someone else, crossing your fingers and hoping they know what they're doing is not something I was prepared for. However, it's what I ended up doing. I couldn't communicate well enough, I couldn't get informed and I really just had to take the back seat and hope everything was going to work out. I think for me that was the final frontier of the whole sabai sabai culture. Because to me that's the pinnacle of letting go, when you do it with basically your life and well being. I'm not saying it's a good idea or a bad one, I just think it's a challenge for a person to be able to do butI feel like a bigger person for getting there.

However, this wasn't the only thing that was put in perspective for me during my stay. All my life I've been a really scared person. Even though it may not seem like it travelling and moving to Thailand by myself. I never thought I'd live alone when I left Colorado because I was too scared and I've always been one to let my mind wonder in bad directions. But it occurred to me after I got out of the hospital that the person I came here as, never could have gotten through what I'd just went through.  I would have been terrified to stay in a hospital room alone, though I had a roommate in the hospital who was slowly coughing up each individual organ. Bless her soul. I would have probably cried the whole week, left the hospital and went back to the US anyways, as well as have been terrified the whole time.  But being in the moment it never actually occurred to me to be scared. I never thought to be afraid when they said they were going to do surgery  or when I was sleeping next to the hacking woman on the other side of the curtain. A lot of friends have commended me for strength or bravery, but this isn't Game of Thrones, I just had blood suctioned out of me. It's more gross than noble for sure.

On the other hand it's shown me a lot of really awesome sides of people. My coworkers, who came to visit and were so supportive, my friends near and far that sent me well wishes and were a comfort whenever I've needed them as well as the entire staff at Bang Po who found other ways to communicate and didn't need to speak English to show that they cared. By the time they left every nurse knew my name, they all checked on me, and all told me to smile (all the time).  It was no walk in the park, but I ended that week feeling incredibly blessed for the friends, family, and strangers who've helped me get here today.