HEROIC TALE OF SURVIVAL

DISCLAIMER

If you want to find the dullest person in the room, find the one who wants to talk about their medical problems.  If that's you, I'm sorry - you are fucking dreadful for other people to talk to.

So why am I writing about it?

a.  It is easy to escape.  Good manners keep many people tied to the spot as they try to work out some way to escape or hope a meteor will crash into the earth ending their pain.  With this medium, you just click to something else and you're away without fear of hurting Logan's feelings.

b.  This sort of thing helps highlight the 'every man' aspect I seem to personify.   Anyone thinking "Could I actually handle traveling?" has only to note that a 140 KG (over 300 lbs in the outdated system of Imperial) crippled sack of shit who thinks he isn't all that bright is out there doing it so clearly it can't be all that fucking hard.

When you google  'traveling fat man', you can get some weird stuff back.

c.  Medical stuff in foreign countries may be of interest.  It seems there were a lot of people interested when I had part of my body removed in the Republic of Georgia.  That could be because the hospital itself was fascinating or it could be the next reason.

"Why hair-roh there!"

d.  People like watching Logan suffer.  You bastards.

e.  Old people are notorious for this.  To be fair, attempting to survive through modern medicine is quite literally all that many of them have going on.  I'd rather eat a gun than get there but that way isn't for everyone.

So that's the disclaimer.  Because that's pretty much all that is going on right now with me for this week it's what is getting written about.  After my eyes eventually heal, I am planning on going further north and eventually giving Lao (or the French map misspelled 'Laos') another chance.

Tune in then.



A DAY IN THE LIFE

Woke up around eleven after seven hours of sleep not inspired by alcohol.  I've felt bad enough for the last couple weeks I haven't been drinking.  Those who I've stayed with have an idea of what that means.

Arising to the melody of band saw meets concrete, I eventually managed to wander off to get some supplies for the coming evening.  Mostly more water and toilet paper.  I've switched to that instead of my dew rags to try for a more sterile thing for my eyes.  Which are still fucked.

The pharmacist directed me a very short distance down the street to a 'clinic'.  Turns out this is my favorite type of clinic - free though you pay for medicine.  Also, they are unused to having non-Thais in there so I was kicked up to go in immediately.

In the past, trying to say 'no, I am happy to wait' and 'I don't want any special treatment' only tends to frustrate, confuse and delay them.  Just go with it.  Think about it from their end.  If some foreigner has something serious happen while waiting to see the doctor, it is going to be a huge hassle.  Better to just thank them, try to move through speedily and not cause a fuss.

While consulting the doctor about my medicine and such, I began complaining that I couldn't translate into Khmer (that's Cambodian talkie talkie for those in the USA) without the wifi, the doctor patiently explained he was Thai.

It then struck me that I had again forgotten what country I was in.  Had I been in a cheesy sitcom, I'd have looked at the camera and said "I'm not in Cambodia?  That would explain why I've had so much Thai food lately!"  And pause for the laugh track.  Only the laugh track.

Apparently, my brain isn't working well either.

Since my health isn't robust enough with my eyes red and trying to crust over, I decided "Yeah, let's have a go at the foot I've been limping around on."  The seventy year old mother of the owner of the hostel was negotiated down to two hundred baht from three for a foot and leg 'massage'.  She attempted to renegotiate five times during the next hour but I stuck to my guns.  You are seen as a weak, stupid, rich foreigner if you give up those extra three dollars.  Plus, we'd already come to a deal.  As Patton Oswalt​ is so fond of saying "Break a deal, face the wheel."  Or is that the Road Warrior?  I forget.

Rather than just ineffectually rubbing my leg for awhile, she pulled out a hammer and some sort of stone chisel and went to work on them.   She did stop to ask me what the fuck was up with my leg.  I gave her the equivalent of 'it is what it is'.   For foreign readers, this is a phrase people in business within the USA are fond of using.  It means you have a fucked up situation or thing but that is all you have to work with.  Generally, this is caused by the normal shapers of human experience, incompetence, laziness and stupidity.  In my case, poor health.  And incompetence, laziness and stupidity.

Then she walked around on my legs making me wish she was a lot thinner.  It wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't laugh at my pain as often.


When my hour of light torture was concluded, it was time for a walk to follow her recommendation of 'stretching out'.  Only a couple kilometers through much worse pain were endured.

And I ate the worst Thai meal I'd ever had.  Bad food is so rare in Thailand, I thought I'd mention it.

And that, gentle readers, is my heroic tale of survival.



ROUND TWO

This is being written a few days later.

After five days of intense, hourly treatment of my eyes with antibacterial eye drops and taking four horse pills a day of some pill I was vaguely told was good for me, my eyes had not improved.

Back to the clinic.

The nice young doctor was not there.  He had been replaced with an old, mean guy who was very upset I was interrupting his boxing.

He was such a bad doctor that he didn't want to hear anything I said.  He had no interest in what medicine I had been taking or anything.  He kept yelling "I am the doctor - I will talk you not!  I will tell you things!"

I think he had mental health issues - or was a huge boxing fan.

After discovering a better (or any) doctor was not available, I took the wildly dangerous motorcycle taxi to the hospital.

They are decades away from wearing helmets that could do anything but fall off in the event of an accident, wear them correctly (or even fully on the head) and so forth.  But there are rarely enforced helmet laws.

Once at the hospital, I determined that my German was much better than people's English who worked there.  Their English may have been on par with my Spanish which is not a reassuring thing.   Attempting to use the translate to Thai function on my phone (love my phone) resulted in the amusing yet sad recurring phenomena  of them attempting to read the English text.  Rather than the highlighted Thai text.

How I wish I were joking.

As my good friend Jana once said, Google translate does make 'little puzzles' but watching them attempt to even read the Thai characters - sometimes with more difficulty than the English ones - makes me think that language should just be scrapped.  Pretty much, anyone not using Latin characters (like what you are reading now) is being left behind much as anyone using the Imperial measurement system.  Both countries.  Out of over two hundred.

"No, this works better and let me tell you why..."

But I digress.

So, I'm in a hospital where understanding will eventually be reached, but it will be a hard road.

Eventually, I got on to what I always think of as 'the track'.  This is where you are getting sent to different stations where they collect different bits of information and such.  Because they somehow figured out I was a foreigner, they assigned various native guides to me to keep me from getting lost forever.

For those interested, my blood pressure was 160/100.  A bit higher than normal but not terribly so.  For me.  If yours hits that, seek medical help immediately.  I would also like to point out that it was tested twice and the other was much lower.  I have doubts about their equipment.

The scale went up to 140 KG.  According to the scale, I weighed 140 KG.  For the various wits out there, the needle didn't hit a post.  While on the scale, I do wish I was eating a large hamburger.

Experience has taught me to try to find out how much treatment and such costs before you get it to prevent a heart attack - though a hospital is generally a decent place to have one.  Nobody could tell me.  Eventually, I had to talk to an accounting supervisor who sounded a lot like they were guessing when they said 300 baht.  That's approximately $10 USD so I was good with that.  Less than fifty is generally good though when it is given in baht it looks huge.

The general practitioner sent me off to see their eye doctor.  This made me happy though for some reason, they wanted to run me through the eye test.  I can count to ten in Korean about as well as the lady could do in English, meaning she knew some but not all of the characters on the board.  So I would slip in other answers in a confident tone of voice such as 'dinosaur' and 'peach' and she would nod and point at the next one.  The funny thing is that next to the board she could not use - which was inexplicably in English - they had the E board.  This is made for illiterate people where the E points in different directions.  By means of hand signals, you point which way the E does.   This board was not used.  Weird.

With medicine and such, I ended up being charged only 150 baht.  They took away all of my paper work and it looked like everything was done.  "Is that all?  Finish?  More money?"  "No, have good!"  OK.  Good enough and I'm off.

So now I have two different types of eye drops that I have been instructed to use "until".  Until my eyes get better.

Not my eyes.  But they were there...

We'll see how that goes.

Congratulations if you made it this far.  I'd suggest going down to volunteer at the old folks retirement home.  I'm sure they'd love to have someone so patient!



PYRAMIDS (A bit of bad poetry for you)

Three small pyramids sit along the edge of the sea,
Projecting upward eldritch energy.

Who built them or why they are there
Nobody seems to care.

When you gaze upon them with wonder,
These questions from you are torn asunder.

Past the sands of the beach is a jungle
Which hides a cyclopean temple.

Twined with plants and vines without
It fills your mind with doubt

If in ancient days of yore it was of human design
or of darker force as others opine.

How I should like to visit again this strange land
but the key lies in Morpheus' hand.

COSTS

Across town on motorcycle taxi, 20-30 baht.
Tuk tuk, double above.
Medical visit with medicine, 150 baht.

TRAT AND KOH CHANG, THAILAND

RESEARCH INTO TRAT

Ticket Guy:  "And the price includes the boat out to Trat."

Logan:  "Trat is an island?"

Ticket Guy:  (Stares hard)  "Yes."

Logan:  "Huh!"

[Note:  Later it was discovered this was not true.]

JOURNEY TO TRAT

When you cross over the border from Cambodia into Thailand, prepare for what the military has termed 'a clusterfuck'.  

Because Cambodian buses do not have the correct license plates, paperwork or permissions, all of the passengers are disgorged from the large comfortable buses and squeezed into mini vans.  It is surprising how many people with luggage can be stuffed into a mini van.  The mini vans will show up when they are able to and leave when they have filled for various destinations. 

This means a lot of people sitting on the sides of their road with luggage.  They tend to find where to sit by chance as there was no one to direct them to the area about half a kilometer from the border itself.  

OFF TO  THE ISLAND  [KOH CHANG]

While on the bus ride was talking to a guy who has an interesting job.  He makes movies and music videos and had just gotten back from Russia or Republic of Georgia (not clear on which) making a couple music videos.  Chatting to people who have interesting work - and are passionate about their jobs - is always interesting.  There were also a couple of girls traveling together who seemed happy to hang out for a spell.

Sometimes, changing plans to accommodate new situations is a good thing.  Sometimes not.

It turned out that rather than heading to Trat, they were going to a nearby island.  Since the people who were doing the transportation seemed to have only a loose grasp of where we were bound, tagging along to  hang out with the three seemed more interesting than proceeding directly to Trat.

The island itself was nothing special.  Unless you have rented a motorbike, much of  the island is accessible only on the infrequent 'bhat bus taxis' which cost between 50-150 THB.  

When we were dismounting the ferry upon the island itself, the lady from the transportation office attempted to hard sell  tickets through fear for 100 THB.  Since she was in transportation, it is assumed that anything out of her mouth was by definition a lie.  This turned out to be correct.  The 'bhat buses' were only 60 THB.

As soon as we reached the island on the car carrying ferry, the girls ditched us by taking the last two places in a 'bhat bus' and drove off never to be seen again.   A bit disheartening, but not a huge loss.  They seemed to not need others for a conversation.

In the wind, rain and dark of night Tailor (the film producer) and I eventually reached the beach side hostels.  He stayed in one that only had one room left and made sure I got lodgings in another called  'Independent Backpackers'.

INDEPENDENT BACKPACKERS

This place seemed to be organically 'grown' rather than built.   Any time you create something on the side of a hill or mountain, the architecture seems to get more interesting and treacherous.  

The rooms themselves weren't terribly clean.  The space between the corrugated roofs and walls allowed plenty  of insects to make their way in.  The frayed and torn ancient mosquito netting seemed to be more of a marker for a feeding zone rather than a barrier to entry.  

In addition, the amateurishly made wood, stone and concrete steps of varying heights and widths became amazingly slippery in the rain.  The hand rails were ornamental.  Quite surprising nobody had ripped them off while avoiding falling down the side of a very steep hill.  

Not the kind of place you want to go when you are feeling sick.

Would it have been more enjoyable if  not sick?  Honestly, only if you are interested in playing in the water.  The same water that is alternatively marked 'no swimming' and 'danger rip tides'.  If you only go in waist deep there are plenty of waves to splash around in.   Not really worth returning.  Although the places to stay are pretty cheap (down to  $10)  there are better affordable beaches elsewhere in the world.

On the plus side, not many other people seem to think the beach is all that grand and it was a very deserted sand beach.  Some natives playing in the water and occasional tourist women in their twenties who were under the belief they were fifteen again gathering up bags of small and not very interesting shells were most of the traffic.

ILLNESS

For the last week, conjunctivitis had been rearing its ugly head.  For those unfamiliar with the symptoms, it can first feel like you have a piece of grit in your eye.  This intensifies.  The eye becomes bloodshot and you get an amazing dose of pain after a couple days.  Sensitivity to light - never handy on a beach - also causes additional pain.  Reading and perhaps seeing with the afflicted eye becomes impossible.

I had it in both eyes this time.   Arrival at the island seemed to give the signal for a massive 'flare up' and the condition worsened.

Due to the heat, massive pain and hordes of mosquitoes sleeping became quite impossible.  Being able to fight back a bit with the electronic tennis racquet did make me feel a bit better.  

After two days there it was time to resume my journey to Trat and find a hospital.   The Scottish woman who  owned the guest house (Fiona) told me of the two different options - a private hospital or the public hospital.  

TRAT HOSPITALS

Being sick, sleep deprived, confused and heavily burdened with baggage is not  a good way to  arrive in a new town.

The private hospital seems to be set up to suck the most money from "traveler's insurance" possible.  To even see a doctor is $100 USD.  None of the specialists were in.

Decided to check out the public hospital.  For a bit under $10 USD got to see a specialist though his grasp of English seemed dubious as well as issued two tubes of eye drops.  They were horrified at the prior use of 'Pred Forte'.  They seemed to regard it as trying to kill a mosquito with a sledge hammer and ordered it was not to be used for this flare up.  [For foreign readers, a flare up is what American doctors call it when some ailment you've got gets suddenly worse.  It only applies to certain medical problems.  For example, if you have a small cut and suddenly begin to spurt blood across the room, nobody would call  it a 'flare up'.  They may call it 'unintentional redecorating'.]

The public hospital was a good deal cleaner and more professional than many I'd seen before.   In some of the public hospitals, they seem either awed or freaked out to see a foreigner.  Because of either this or just being really nice, the foreigner is often bumped to the head of any line.  Not the case in Thai hospitals.  You are treated as any one else.  While it means waiting longer,  it is less embarrassing than being  'queue jumped'.

SETTLING INTO TRAT

From the main street of Trat, the tourist area is not obvious.  Most of the literature says 'south of the market'.  The market is also not obvious.  Questioned instead a fellow backpacker who gave directions to a place called 'Residang Residence Guesthouse'.

Since seeing was not possible, lying around on an extremely large and comfortable bed listening to audio books became the major preoccupation.  There was occasional staggering around in the bright light, protected by sunglasses.  If I don't walk around a few hours every day the body goes into yet more pain.  Since it was already enduring conjunctivitis, a cold and "traveler's tummy" we opted for the walking.

Trat itself doesn't seem to have any of the normal 'tourist candy'.  In fact, most people are here for a day at most.  The people are a good deal friendlier here than in other parts of Thailand - since they see less tourists.  You don't get hassled to purchase anything.   Trat isn't a popular town.

For just hanging out, it is fine.  There are some nice streets for walking, city type stuff and 'Asian crap architecture' depending on where you go.  They have a decent food block though no larger restaurants.  Apparently the low tourist population won't support them.

The 'food block' is a market place of food.  Find the stalls with chairs and tables first - otherwise the food will be put into small plastic bags rubber bands shutting them forever.  This is how takeaway is done.

CURRENCY EXCHANGE

Since it looked very unlikely that Malaysian Ringets would be needed in the near future tried to exchange them at a bank.  They have some crazy rule they only accept 50 and 100 denomination notes though they couldn't explain why.  It sounds like one of those silly rules that is followed and nobody knows why.  

This would not be a concern but no currency exchange places have yet been found.

VIDEOS

Baby Town

Residang Residence Guesthouse

PRICES (ISLAND)

Beer (300ml or so) $2 (60 THB)

Meal, 80-100 THB for simple stuff or Thai dishes

Taxi on island, 50-150 THB

Ferry to island, 60 THB

PRICES (TRAT)

Hospital including seeing an eye doctor and two different eye drops, 263 THB

Shave, 60 THB

330ml beer, 50 THB

Thai meal with rice from restaurant, 50 THB

Main with rice (Thai cooking) from food block with rice, 20-25 THB

16 GB thumb drive, 450 THB - way too much.