I should have spent my last days in Thailand giving some amazing lectures that would make my kids scream with joy, spend some extra time in the nursery to cuddle with my toddlers and then I’d round of the trip by swimming with dolphins and go elephant trekking. Even more so, I was finally, after one month of hard work learning the basics of Muay Thai, told by Sakmongkol we would be sparring in the next session. Yet, on the next day I woke up with an inflamed wound which, one day after and a couple trips to the hospital, have increased to a fully infected foot – swollen to the size of a balloon – and a pms fever despite being on antibiotics. Shortly told, this means aaaall the plans mentioned above had to be cancelled and won’t be done until next time I go Thailand.
I guess this is something every traveller have to encounter; something happens and you get ill in a foreign country, far away from family and with hospitals and doctor houses that – no matter how good they are – to you have a credibility equal to that of the word “massage” around here.
I haven’t written on this blog how scared I’ve been here, every day, in the traffic. Sometimes a moped/motorbike taxi is your only way around if you’re not driving yourself, is going further in one direction or got a time limit. But Pattaya’s traffic is insane. I love the Fast and the Furious movies as much as the next adrenaline junkie; it’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to go Tokyo; but God knows I’ve had enough of that driving style over here. After three close calls I can assure you I only take taxi bikes if I have to or if it’s with drivers I trust. It’s still nerve wrecking though.
Yet, I’ve not been nearly as scared in the traffic as I was last night; I found myself in a local doctor’s office where the reception was open against the street. I was pissing myself. I ended up here after I stubbornly refused to pay the estimated price of 11 000B for a shot of penicillin offered at Bangkok Hospital Pattaya which they really should have given me on my first visit there (instead of charging me 2 500B each visit for simply showing up to speak with a doctor or get a travel certificate signed). Sometimes I hate how stubborn I can be regarding my principles. One of those times was last night when I was shaking, crying and suffocating of my own panic attack in the doctor’s reception; holy convinced the upper above would punish me for not wanting to pay the 11 000B for my own health (I still do question this tbh, but I think as a traveller you get very into the mindset of budgeting, budgeting, budgeting and after two-three weeks here doing what I do I’ve considering any purchase above 200B very carefully). I ended up here after my fever rose and I didn’t know whether to pass out or vomit at a dinner with family friends who then took me to their doctor. Now I got a penicillin shot (it was a new needle) injected on my arse worth 600B.
Now that I’ve been through it and the fever has gone along with the hazy thoughts, I’m still scared. I’m scared I’m going to get more infections. Have a reaction to something and get worse or not better before my homeward journey on Saturday. Tbh, I’ll be scared until I’m home and can get to my regular doctor and double check my health. If this goes well, I guess I’ve made an important experience if I were a traveller without travel insurance or a local. I guess I did well saving. However, as I got a travel insurance I have nothing else to say that I’m upset with myself; it was really stupid and I would advise all my readers not to do what I did. If this does go well, then I’m nothing but bloody lucky.
Do you find yourself thinking twice about the costs of health care (well not you lucky buggers in the UK)? Why do you think it’s so easy to purchase an expensive item you think you need than invest in your own (hopefully long-lasting) health?
Today’s interesting note:
Let’s finish in a positive note. Although my last day with the kids didn’t get as I hoped, I still got to give my sponsor girl and the girl I’m financially looking into to sponsor some gifts. That’s it. I’ve already celebrated Christmas because the joy in their eyes and voices will last me to next year. I’ll miss them all so much.