What a Day-saster!

I had a health check up in a hospital that I frequent and what a day! I believe in being on time because it is an impression that people will have of you so I was there at 8. After all the necessary documentations and lah lah lah, I was asked to have my blood taken.  While waiting, a group of four people came ten minutes after me and guess what happened next. They were called in first!

Knowing me when I am the epitome in school on how people should never cut lines, I was furious.  So the test for my high blood pressure skyrocketed and the nurse was asking me if this was ordinary.  Yeah Miss! Wanna rub it in? Then because of my splitting headache, I couldn't read any of the numbers on the board.  I was able to read the number 5 as it was projected on the screen about three inches big.

Then I heard the names called for x ray examination and I was in the middle pile, after two persons. When we proceeded to the exam room,  I was called last again. God knows how difficult it was for them to pronounce my name, JO- NHUH-THUN!

I was so pissed that I went to the International Relations Services for translations and complaints.  After some breathing exercises in front of a beautiful lady who speaks English, I decided to have their 'free' healthy meal before going on my next hurdles.  There were no seats available, no spoons and appalling breakfast of cereal and milk of which I have an intolerance to. I wonder if I could actually mix my coffee or tea with my finger and sue them for burn.

I left the hospital and devoured on McDo breakfast meal of Sausage McMuffin with egg plus coffee. Heavenly grease and arteries clogging combination for stroke and Alzheimer. Phew! Another trip to a hospital in the future.

As they needed a urine analysis, they gave me a plastic bottle to fill. I could have filled the small bottle with beer as my urine sample so as I be labelled alcoholic. So after filling it with my very own liquid waste, off for my eye and dental exams.  I hope they both check my eyes because it says, eye exam.

While waiting for my name to be called, I received a call from the same hospital asking my whereabouts.  I told the person on the other line that I was on the third floor, just two floors below where I was earlier.  Then I was told I will never be called because I do not have the correct papers with me, what the 'pack'! If the translator didn't follow me, I will be typing this in the hospital because I ended staying there for a night.

The results of the tests were scheduled at one in the afternoon and of course as it was a day-saster day, the doctor came in late and I was finally called at 2:10. Some more checks from Dr. Tardy and the verdict: normal with everything except for less intake of carbohydrates and sweets.

Sigh, after my most memorable Sunday escapade at the hospital, I went to the nearest mall and bought jellies, bread with mayo and pork floss, and roast pork with butter bread. Yum! Did I say I listened?

'Pack' this Benign Positional Vertigo I am experiencing!

P.S. The kind lady was named Fah and she helped me throughout. Fah is literally translated as heaven and she was angel sent. I gave her a bar of dark chocolate as a token of appreciation. 

Not So Nice

Tell me if she is only three years of age.

Student: I like the way you do your hair.

Teacher: Thank you.

Student: I like your bracelets too!

Teacher: Thank you. How about Mr. Jonathan? What do you like about him?

Student: He has nothing but a broken foot! 

Me: Is that nice? 

Student: And if you break your other foot, you will have two broken feet! 

Me: Thank you! 

And the Achmed in me wanted to shout-

uncyclopedia.wikia.com

Silence! I kill you! 

Oh yes, I had an accident AGAIN! And I am on a cast and walks with crutches. What a year! Anyway, here's wishing you a...

Happy Lunar New Year! 

Nine Lives

Many years ago, I attended a three day workshop in a nearby province and I was on my own. On the night I arrived, I ended in an accident as the motorbike I was riding collided with another one. Both motorcycle drivers were fine but I wasn't. I sprained one of my foot as well as receiving bruises all over. 

When I was lying on the ground, someone came to me and told me he was willing to send me to the hospital if I pay him two hundred baht. I agreed because I have no other way to pick myself up to go to the hospital. I was bleeding and I couldn't stand up. It was saddening that a man came not to offer assistance but to pry on helpless people by asking money in exchange for a ride to the hospital. I was in a cast for a month. 

Three weeks ago, I was involved once again in a motorcycle accident. This time, I was the one driving. I wasn't able to pull the brake levers on time to stop for a crossing cat so I fell sideways on the ground. The things I bought from the market went splattering on the street along with my purse and phone. 

There were cars passing and a couple of motorcycles came but none stopped to help. To my right, I could hear some people playing basketball since it happened adjacent to a court but none came running to even care. In the middle of the street, I cried for I cannot stand up but I summoned my strength and told myself that being weak was not the solution to my dilemma at that time. I needed to be strong.

I drove myself home with blood and bruises while feeling pain on both hands and fingers. I hailed a cab via phone, sent myself to the hospital and was treated for my minor injuries. I arrived home feeling numb in both hands and pain on the right side of my body and leg. It was a minor accident and I was a lucky chap. 

I was hit by a school bus when I was six, fell down from a tree when I was twelve, bumped my head in two different occasions and received stitches on my forehead, thrown from an elephant in one of my trips, gone through a laparoscopic surgery with no one around to take care of me, and so on. I am still alive and I learned that most people are not kind nor caring. It might be different if I was a movie star or someone wealthy but I am not. Nevertheless, these unfortunate events made me aware of my safety. It also made me think that I might be a cat. With nine lives, I get to live and tell my stories. 

Stitches Out, Gossips In

This afternoon, I went back to the hospital to get the stitches out. The doctor who did the stitching was the one who removed them as well. He didn't let the nurse do it nor an assistant but he himself. I kind of like this doctor who had been caring and gentle to me. While removing the stitches, he mentioned that I am a sensitive person and I told them he was right. He heard from my other doctor that I cried when the latter was about to perform endoscopy. I told him I cried too when I was wheeled to the operating room for surgery. Then I added emotional and sentimental to describe me fully.

A lot of people dislikes sensitive people as they are rather fragile in emotions and weak in accepting faults. However, the sensitivity in me goes beyond being hurt or being called names or when I am subjected to rejection. The sensitivity in me is being aware of what is going on and what is to happen next. I do see the relevance of events. I make sure I am not stepping on people's toes. I try to be more of a listener and a doer rather than a complainer and a speaker. I know when to stop talking. I feel for people, see through them and in a not so good way, become like them, absorbing their energies and thus making me sad at times, but hopeful at most.

I couldn't stand watching war movies, moreso, acts of violence including rape. I cringe at the sight of disasters and desolation. I cry when I see young children begging for alms instead of attending school. Yet with all these things which are real and around us, my saving grace is that I am not callous and that I have not lost the humane part of me: I help, I volunteer and I share.

Crying with no reasons and being weak at the same time would render nothing but lost opportunities to grow. My emotions are released through tears rather than violent acts or loud noises. If I had been doing nothing but to surrender to my emotions, then I couldn't have done many things that I am proud of.

"I don't like the sight of blood.", I told my doctor. "I like blood but I don't like to see people in pain.", he said. "That's good to know and I am glad to have met a sensitive doctor like you."

Three Blessed Days

All is great now. The operation was a success and the experience a great learning process. While I reminisce the events of the three days period I was in the hospital, it gives me pleasure to write them down so as to remember those bittersweet and moments of exhilaration.

When I sneaked in two fish burgers for lunch prior to my operation in the evening, the doctor came in and saw me biting the last piece of the burger and said, “K. Jonathan, what are you eating? You’re not supposed to eat anymore.” “But I was hungry, would you like to go with me for lunch?” The bribe didn’t work so I gave the other burger to my interpreter.

Just before the operation, my interpreter came in before she left for home and send me her best wishes. What surprised were the two sentences she said before leaving. “You always have a smile on your face.” and “You have a great smile.” Now no one will backed her up with these because I am known as a stern looking teacher, a serious conversationalist, and a non-smiling person in real life (proven by all my photographs).

I was awakened by three nurses at six in the morning right after the night of the operation. They were there for my bath which I refused to have. I excused myself to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Right after cleaning the toothbrush, I felt queasy and fell down on the floor hitting my head on the marble top. Clinging on dear life because the fall made my stomach hurt, I was groaning in pain. The nurses were alerted and started to pull me out of the bathroom, sat me on a chair, transferred me on a wheelchair before laying me back on the bed, all through the help of four nurses. I woke up being fanned by ammonia on my face and hearing, "Your colour is coming back."

A good friend stayed for the night so he kept me up and alive in spirit. I thought that it would be splendid to exchange places where I will don casual clothes while he puts on my hospital gown. We wanted to see the nurses’ reactions but because I wasn’t that bad, we aborted the idea.

However, when my friend decided to sleep on the hospital bed and I was eating lunch, a nurse came and went straight to the bed and told my friend to take the medication after lunch. She was confused for a few seconds and then she gave us a big smile. Wink, wink!

“Today, you’ll be getting soup!” and I got two bowls of soup, and I mentioned that it was splendid. When dinner came and I could have something more than soup, it was great. The next day when I received porridge and a piece of sandwich, it was heaven. After being deprived of water and food, whatever was served was a feast.

There were so many kind words and supportive people who accompanied me throughout. The funny jokes exchanged in both operating rooms were witty. The constant visits from an array of nurses greeting me in the morning, exchanging pleasantries in the afternoon, and warm exchanges of conversations in the evening were memorable. The throng of visitors who came and gave me warm wishes were highly appreciated.

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To capped it all, as one of the nurses said, "Oh, do not cry, you are a big boy Khun Jonathan. We are here for you." That's all it takes to grow, knowing there are people behind to support, to love, to believe, and to pray for you. I am bless with good people, the Lord is indeed superb!

Many thanks to Ely and Jepoy for the calls, K. Tik and K. Jum for the food, and the parents of my students who visited me and to those who are still hanging food on my garden gate every morning.