As I write this I can look out the window and watch my third sunset from room 1001 at Bangkok Hospital. More than twenty-four hours have passed with no fever and this morning my doctor, who came in on her day off to see me, asked me to stay one more night to continue the IV antibiotics and to take another chest xray to see what’s changed since Wednesday. She’ll come back Sunday morning, also her day off, to look at the results and we’ll see where to go from there.
The nurses seem optimistic that I’ll be discharged then. But they were saying that during my temperature and blood pressure check at 10 pm yesterday, too. Ten pm is a busy time. One nurse is injecting my antibiotics and another is recording vitals. To me, it was just a blur of activity.
Tawn’s toe is better. It is now just a bit bruised and the plumish purple has largely receded. He’s been here all afternoon and charms all the nurses. That’s his nature.
A few more observations of hospital life:
After a day and a half of nonstop IV drip (saline) and 10 cc in-line injections of antibiotics, the veins in my left arm started to feel painful. At first I couldn’t figure out what it was but after an hour or so, decided to trust my instinct that something was abnormal and spoke with a nurse. Sure enough, the veins were irritated from the higher volume of liquid, bruised and abused. By the time they pulled the IV out, there was a nice red splotch tracing its way from the point of entry to the crook of my arm.
When it came to putting in a new line, Tawn told the nurse about the problems finding a vein during admittance. She assured him that she would send the most beautiful nurse on the floor, gesturing to one of her colleagues. Then Tawn said to the other nurse, “You may be the most beautiful, but I need to make sure you can also handle this special case.” With great self-confidence she looked at him, smiled, and cattily replied that she was the best in the ward on both accounts.
Sure enough, Annie Oakley was right. She spent about thirty seconds tapping the back of my hand and examining it, then swabbed it and struck a suitable vein in one single, smooth and painless prick of the skin. As you can see, I’ve not let being in the hospital keep me from working. This is my version of Sion’s treadmill desk.
Food here continues to be quite decent. This morning I was served boiled rice, not quite Chinese style jok which I received the morning before. This is really just watery rice. My friend Ken really doesn’t like it so I think of him and our trip to Lampang a few years back every time I eat it.
What really tickled me, though, was the message on this packet of chilies in vinegar: “To keep chilli fresh longer, No preservatives added.” Anyone care to explain to me what role the vinegar serves? It isn’t a preservative?
This afternoon Tawn and I headed downstairs to Starbucks. I wore cargo shorts and a polo shirt in an effort to blend in to the crowd. I’m not wearing my hospital kung fu pj’s to Starbucks! I thought it would be funny to shoot a little video about me “sneaking” out of the ward but decided it was a bit more effort than I wanted to invest.
Okay, that’s all for now. The night sky is now black and the city lights spread out around me. Thanks for reading.