Category: Thailand 2019

Im a highly-strung sort, which has its own challenges.

As GrandMaster Flash said way back “don’t push me cos I’m close to the eedge / I’m trying not to / lose my head”.

That high-stringing, fuelled by an active imagination conjuring up the worst, sometimes feels close to snapping.

That’s the case with this damned leg.

I’d like a document – signed in blood and promising a first-born sacrifice – reassuring me that my ( very swollen ) leg is safe from the bogeyman of amputation.

I don’t know whether the document or the amputation is less likely.

But at times like these, far from home and with a language barrier – the imagination runs amok.

The leg feels a little better, but I’m not convinced I’m out of the woods yet.

A GP visit yesterday shed no further light.

I’m banking on a scheduled follow-up visit to the hospital tomorrow will put an end to my grappling.

Meanwhile, most things are more of a struggle than they need to be.

 

 

 

A Little Progress

It may not look like it, but this is progress.

A couple of days of scrambling, with no clear plan, had left the wounds pus-filled and looking ugly, threatening.

I tried Iodine yesterday. That hurt. It’s hard to know whether that’s the good kind of hurt ( that pain when the body is working hard to fix something ) or not.

Then the landlord turns up to look at the WiFi. On his return, armed with a potion, he explains that he’s a traditional Thai doctor. ‘Leave the wound open, at least inside, and don’t put stuff directly on it, rather in the surrounding skin’. I thought so.

This morning at least the bloody things are ‘closed’ up.

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A couple of seconds of lapse, or stupidity, and everything comes undone.

One second yer cruising along, overloaded like the Beverley Hillbillies, on your way to a new abode. The next,  bits of your ensemble and pride are spread out all over the road. Half a dozen Thais are leaning over you, eager to help, and something hurts.

It’s yer foot, dumbass. It’s stuck under the bike, and it hurts.

It got there when you lost concentration, and forgot the heavy ( 25kg ? ) suitcase loaded on the back of the bike. You were cruising along at maybe 35 – 40 km, forgetting an upcoming corner. When it came, you leaned into it to get around, which is when the bike went down.You persuade the smal crowd of beseechers to help me re-load the suitcase onto the bike, and complete the move. You send the school dramatic post-accident photos, as proof of legitimate skiving from work. You look like an escapee from a hospital ward, and you are in no condition to be in front of teenagers.

The H.O.D English at the school persuades you to go to hospital. That eventually tells you you have fractured four metatarsals ( toe-bones ) in your foot. The thing looks like a swollen aubergine.

But the visit is costly. Not too bad financially ( 1600 b ). But they keep stretching the time before agreeing to discharge me, taking an ultra-conservative approach. First, they scare you into staying overnight. Then the spectre of surgery is raised. Then they demand I show them I can use crutches. Then I need to tell them who is picking me up ( they want to ensure payment ). All of which add up to a lot of stress – sleep is hard to come by, it’s stifling hot, they won’t always give you fresh water top-ups, the food is really bad, and you’re a curiosity to the other patients.

It’s not fun, and I almost blew a gasket once or twice at this …. [ splutter ] … incarceration.

Home now, and I think I’m expected at work tomorrow. But right now, I can’t see how they can realistically expect to put me in front of a bunch of teenagers. And be taken seriously.

Which may mean – if I have no income –  my adventure is nearing its end.

Watch this space.

 

More madness on the roads today as I swapped scooters for the 4th time in a month.

Today’s swap happened early after the owner of the old model went sour on me very fast.

It unravelled after I messaged her saying my scooter contract time was almost up. And did she want to drop her prices considering what a fine customer I’d been, and that someone else was offering a rental at about half her prices.

I’ve been paying 4000 baht / month. Compared with 500 baht / DAY when I got to Rayong. And to the new offer of 2300 baht / month from an operator up the road in big bad Pattaya.

I took a taxi van ( 80 baht ! Rayong to Pattaya ) and songthaew ( 15 baht Rayong south to bus station ) to Pattaya this morning to pick the scooter up.

The attitude here in Rayong is ‘those are Pattaya prices’, and they won’t bother trying to compete. What I think they’ll find is that probably sooner rather than later they’ll be facing extinction as newer nimbler creatures move in with their better-adapted habits.

So during texting about returning the current bike , the owner blew a fuse somewhere.  She started complaining that she’d made a mistake renting the bike to me! I’m not kidding. A mistake. One which netted her 4500 baht,including deposit.

She called in a boyfriend, apparently, to translate, but still headway was not being made. Then I suggested she refund me the bond plus days for early return, and she’s suddenly all cream and blueberries. It’s beyond me.

I turned up with a fellow teacher at the school, a level-headed science type, and a fine chap to boot.

She was all smiles.

So am I now. I have a cheaper AND better bike, and no longer have to deal with FrankenRenter.

I rode my fellow teacher back into town to pick his bike back up, and since I was in the ‘hood, had to help myself to a second dinner at the

All’s well that ends well.