Thailand - The Ups and Downs continued
A True Story
Smashwords edition
Text by Alan Little
eISBN 978-616-245-029-7
E-book published by www.bangkokbooks.com
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Text & Cover Copyright© Alan Little
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Introduction
It all started many years ago, when Ian was introduced to a bar girl in Pattaya by an ex-workmate one Christmas. He fell head over heals in love with her and they got married in March of the same year. To an outsider it was a con from the outset, but for a lonely mid-forties man it was a dream come true. His brain told him otherwise, but his ego took control however when they went to her village, just outside Kalasin, he was treated badly by her family and his new bride.
He returned to Thailand twelve weeks later to attend her visa interview at the British Embassy, and they had a row over money. She left him heart broken and alone in Bangkok.
Instead of sitting in his hotel room drinking away his sorrows he pulled himself together, he had a good meal and then hit the town. That evening he met Yao who was nearer his age although she didn’t look it. She took care of him for the next four days, and they did some sight seeing together in Bangkok. They didn’t have sex, and she didn’t ask him for any money either. She wasn’t a Bar girl.
After returning to his hum-drum life in England he stayed in touch with Yao, and he returned to Bangkok many times over the next three years. He visited Yao’s village near Ubon Ratchathani where he was treated very well by the villagers and Yao’s family.
His dear sweet old mum passed away leaving him some money, which opened his gate way. He wanted to be with Yao in Thailand more than anything else. He couldn’t legally marry her, as he wasn’t able to contact his Thai wife to obtain a divorce. Yao didn’t care about that issue, and with his mind made up he sold everything including his house, and he quit England on the 18th of December. His good long time friend Scott took him to Manchester Airport where he wished him the best of luck. Ian was sad to say goodbye to him as real friends are far and few between.
Ian sat on the plane pondering about his future. He had a reasonable amount of money as well as a small private pension, however it wouldn’t last forever and he hadn’t a clue as to what he was going to do to earn a living in Thailand.
Yao and Ian married to her religion in the village on New Years Day. It was a complete contrast to Kalasin, and he was the happiest man alive. They had a short honey moon in Hua-Hin before returning to Bangkok. Yao was renting a small apartment that was really suited to a single person on the other hand the rent was cheap at only 4,000 baht per month. It was cramped to say the least.
Ian enrolled on a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) course at a language school. He found it very difficult and his evening drinking and smoking began to annoy Yao, but his worries were in vain as he passed the course. He was soon inundated with work at the school, so much so that he was going there seven days a week. The apartment was starting to become a problem as there wasn’t any space for him to work, but not only that Yao’s son Kek moved in, so it was decided to rent a town house. They found a vacant property which had three bedrooms and Yao’s daughter Ouan, her boyfriend and Kek moved in as well.
Ian didn’t mind at all as the house was huge but he couldn’t understand why Kek was sleeping downstairs, which sometimes interfered with Ian’s work. Ian discovered the reason why as Ouan’s pet rabbit had occupied the third bedroom. After threatening to make a rabbit stew the rabbit was evicted and Kek had a bedroom.
Before the start of the new school year his boss at the language school found him a permanent job at a government high school, which was a long way from their house. The taxi fares were expensive, and so Ian wanted to buy a motorcycle however Yao was totally against the idea, saying that he would die soon.
Yao’s nephew Ben was selling his modified Toyota Saluna which was offered to Ian at a reasonable price. Ian acquired a Thai driver’s license and he purchased the car. He loved it, except for the fact that the modified engine used a lot of gasohol.
For some unknown reason Yao became obsessively jealous about everything that he was doing. For instance she thought that he was having an affair with a teacher at the high school and the receptionist at the language school as well. When he started privately teaching an attractive 35 year old business woman called Kaew two evenings a week, her jealousy hit the roof. Ian couldn’t do anything right for doing wrong, and his drinking increased as a result.
The rent on the house was proving to be expensive, as Yao’s offspring weren’t paying one single baht towards the costs. It was time to move out.
At the high school Ian’s co-teacher was a very nice Swedish gentleman called Hans, who helped him tremendously from the start. Without Hans’s help and encouragement, Ian possibly might have given up trying to teach a classroom of fifty students. There isn’t anything on a TEFL course to prepare a novice teacher to teach at a government high school. His first year as a high school teacher soon passed, and he was asked to continue teaching there for a second year however Hans, regrettably, wasn’t going to be with him.
Yao’s sisters, Ruan and Nit, were both living on the same Soi in Sai-Mai, a Bangkok suburb. Yao wanted to rent a house there. A place was found and Ian and Yao informed Ouan that she had to fend for herself.
Their new accommodation was even further away from Ian’s place of employment and the Saluna was drinking over 1,000 baht a week in gasohol, apart from which he had to rise at five to get to school on time. Commuting 54 kms a day through Bangkok’s heavily congested main roads was enough to stress out the most patient driver. He had had enough of it, and after many an argument with Yao he bought a 150cc Scooter. He bought it brand new at a snip of a price but later he was to find out why it was so cheap!
He was still teaching Kaew in a restaurant, seeing her became his only social life. She was funny, witty, intelligent, and beautiful and he loved spending time with her. There was never any touching or kissing but when he looked deep into her gorgeous eyes, his heart started to melt. Life with Yao had become dull, loveless and void of affection. She slept on the floor away from his arms reach. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve the way she was treating him, or what he could do to get things back on track, but when her jealousy snapped his love for her diminished a little bit further.
Back in England his solicitor was trying to get him a large amount of money that was locked in an endowment policy from a previous divorce, and finally she succeeded resulting in a large deposit into his English bank account. To try and brighten up his life with Yao he opened a joint bank account and put 600,000 baht in it. Yao wanted to buy a house, and a mortgage was arranged on a property close to her sister Ruan’s shop, where Ian spent many a lonely evening in silence drinking his beer.
He had to stop teaching Kaew, because Yao phoned her at three in the morning accusing her of being Ian’s second wife. His love for Yao blew away on the breeze.
Ian acquired some new students who were officers in the Royal Thai Air Force. He enjoyed teaching them, and it brought in some much needed extra revenue. He was very happy in his work, and the school asked him to teach for a third year. Some of the students called him dad and that is how they looked upon him after all he was 54 years old.
During their move into their own house Ian lifted a heavy bag of Yao’s clothes into the boot of his car resulting in a hernia. Yao scolded him saying that it was his drinking that did it. He carried on teaching with immense pain in his groin area unaware of his condition. He stopped drinking completely. A doctor at a private hospital confirmed that he did in deed have a hernia, and the surgery would cost in the region of 70,000 baht, which was a lot of money for a teacher to pay. They went to a government hospital to find that it would only cost 20,000 baht there. A date was set for him to be admitted.
For Ian, his dream was to have a house built on a plot of land on his father in laws land in the village, and spend the rest of his days growing some vegetables and watch the chickens. He felt that he was a prisoner with Yao, as she wouldn’t let him do anything, or go anywhere on his own. His friendship with Hans had faltered because of her jealous streak. Did he want to live like this just to fulfill his dream? This was now a huge question that he couldn’t answer, keeping him awake at night.
One day while he was sitting at his computer he checked his e-mail and there was one waiting in the in-box, it read,
My dear Ian,
I’m sorry for not being in touch and I hope that you are well.
Fondest of regards,
Khun Kaew. (Miss you).
Chapter One: Time to reflect
Ian lay on his hospital bed staring at the ceiling. During our life once in a while we are given enforced periods of time in which our brains can scan the memory banks of our lives, or ponder over the possibilities of what the future might have in store for us. It might have simply been a boring 2hr history lesson at high school or a 13hr long haul flight when a second turns into a minute, and an hour seems to last forever.
This was one of those times for Ian. He had been admitted into Watanai Government Hospital at 10.00am that morning for his hernia operation, which was to be performed on the following day. Yao had accompanied him there, but after he had been shown to his ward, she left telling him that she had some clothes to change for a customer. She didn’t kiss him good bye or wish him well for his surgery, other than to say that she would be back the following afternoon.
Thai government hospitals do not supply anything for the patients’ entertainment. The wards are very basic and they are not equipped with a television or a radio, only the buzz coming from the overhead electric fans breaks the silence. A large clock hung on the wall above the open windows to his left hand side, Ian wished that he couldn’t see it as it had taken an age for it to go from 2 o’clock to five past the hour. He had got the impression from the nurses as well as the other patients, that he wasn’t actually welcome when he first walked into the ward. Their facial expressions suggested that this hospital was for Thai people and not a farang who should be spending a lot off money in a private one instead, therefore he felt that trying to start a conversation with the gentleman in the next bed would be fruitless.
The walls had been freshly painted and there was still a slight smell of the paint about the place. He wondered why it had been redecorated and then a possibility dawned on him. Opposite the hospital sat the chard burnt out ruins of Central World, which was one of the Bangkok buildings that was set alight during the red shirt protests, and so the hospital must have filled up with the smoke and ash that came from the fire through the open windows. The windows are always open because there isn’t any air-conditioning, and that wasn’t a problem for him as he had, by now, acclimatized to the heat. His problem was what he was going to do for the next 24 hours until he had his surgery the next day.
He stared at the ceiling in a vain attempt to stop his eyes from looking at the big clock that had only moved to ten past two in three hours. He thought about Yao and how happy he had been during the early years of their relationship, the fun that they had had in the village, and why were things between them so bad now. He asked himself many questions about it, but he couldn’t find any answers and his heart sank. This was going to be the first time in his life to have surgery therefore he was petrified about it, but where was his wife? Was she sitting by his side? No, she was at Pratunam market changing a 100baht blouse, as far as he was concerned that was about as much as she loved him. His mind drifted towards Kaew and her e-mail, “Mr. Ian?”
“Yes.”
“Can you speak Thai?”
“No, I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“I am a heart specialist and I am concerned about your ECG, Mr. Ian, you have got hypertension.”
“What does that mean, Doctor?”
“It means that you could suffer a heart attack during your surgery. Are you taking any medication for it?”
“Doctor, if I was taking medication for it, then I would know that I have it. No, I’m not.”
“Do you do any regular exercise?”
“Normally yes I do, but since I injured myself I can’t walk very far as it is too painful.”
“I see, let me listen to your heart…yes… I think that you will be alright.”
“Well, I hope so Doctor.”
“Mr. Ian, when you are able to, after you have recovered from your surgery I want you to exercise for about 2hrs every week, please do it as well as reduce your smoking.”
“Can you tell me what causes hypertension, please?”
“Yes, smoking, alcohol abuse, a poor diet, stress and insufficient exercise. I can see from your blood test results that in your case, it isn’t due to alcohol, as your kidney and liver functions are excellent, so you must do as I have suggested and come back to this hospital for another check-up in six months time.”
“I have to say that your English is extremely good.”
“Thank you Mr. Ian, in my profession where you graduate from is very important. My parents couldn’t possibly afford for me to study abroad. I was lucky and I won a scholarship at The University of Manchester’s Medical School, after I graduated, I practiced as a junior doctor for five years at Salford Royal General Hospital... Have you heard of it?”
“Of course Doctor, I’m from Manchester.”
“Well Mr. Ian, I have a lot of work to do. Remember what I have said and good luck for tomorrow.”
“I shall Doctor and thank you.”
Ian laid back down on his hard as a brick bed and went back to starring at the cracks in the ceiling, “Hypertension of all things,” he thought, “but it isn’t surprising living with Yao now is it, stress, well I’ve got plenty of that at home and at school. My liver and kidney functions are excellent now, which is a surprise, but I don’t think that would have been the case six months ago. Exercise is not a problem as I enjoy riding my mountain bike, but as for stopping smoking that’s not going to be easy. I could murder a fag just now and I can’t see a smoking room anywhere in here.”
The doctor’s words spun around in his brain, as he tried to get comfortable on his brick bed, “Heart attack!” he was already worried about the surgery without being told that he could die under the general anaesthetic as well. He looked at the clock, “Twenty five to three. I wish that doctor would come back for another chat, as talking to him did kill some time,” he tried to go to sleep and his mind once more drifted back to the e-mail from Kaew, “Mr. Ian,” he opened his eyes to see three ladies dressed the same in dark blue uniforms, standing at the side of his bed.
“Yes,” he said.
“Can you speak Thai?”
He thought about his answer for a second, as his eyes went from one of the ladies to the next, “I’m not going to make a fool out of myself and try to speak to them in Thai,” he sat up, “No, I’m sorry,” he paused, “I can’t.” The oldest of the three smiled at him and she said, “My English is not so good. I am your anesthetist, and we have to ask you some questions Ian... Do you smoke?”
“Yes.”
“How many do you smoke a day?”
“I smoke about 20.”
She looked puzzled from his reply as she was reading the questions from a document, so Ian spoke to her in his pigeon Thai, “Pom sup burrie yii-sip tut-tut-wan na khrap.” (I smoke cigarette 20 every day.)
Her puzzled expression changed into a big smile as she said, “Mr. Ian, you can speak Thai.”
“Pom put Thai dia nidnoy khrap.” (I speak Thai can little.)
“Mai-chai khun put Thai-dai mak-mak khaa,” (Not true you speak Thai can a lot.) she continued in English whilst reading the questionnaire, “How much do you weigh?”
“Seventy kilogram.”
The threesome looked at each other with puzzled faces, and so he spoke to them in Thai again, “Khor-tort khrap, jet-sip kilo khrap.”
He made a hand gesture which suggested for her to pass him the clipboard. He looked at the form with the intention of answering the questions himself, however she was writing the answers in Thai script, so there wasn’t any point in that idea. He handed the form back to her, and the questioning continued with Ian using his limited Thai vocabulary, which amused the ladies. They laughed and giggled at his answers. Eventually the form was completed. The older lady had some disturbing news to tell him, “Mr. Ian, I am worried about two things, firstly your heart condition and secondly your smoking, so tomorrow I am going to give you a spinal block and then I shall give you a very nice sleep. I don’t want to take the risk of you having your surgery under a general anaesthetic, as you might suffer a heart attack.” She could see the concerned look that had appeared on his face, “Ian, don’t worry about it, as I shall make sure that you don’t feel any pain, try to rest and I will see you in the morning.” She held his hand briefly before leaving his bed side.
“Don’t worry, well that’s easily said, and what’s a spinal block when it’s at home?” he muttered to himself as he laid back down, “Probably a bloody painful injection into my spine I suppose!”
The big clock on the wall had at least moved to ten past three, however he refused to look at it, and whilst he stared at the ceiling again his thoughts went to Yao, and how he had injured himself in the first place, “Stupid woman…, yes, stupid, if you hadn’t had put all your clothes in to only two bags, then I wouldn’t be lying here anyway, now would I?” he paused and breathed out a sigh, “Well, the only good thing is that it’s stopped me from drinking… I need a smoke.”
He lay there in silence for a while, or maybe in a state of shock after all, he had listened to two medical experts tell him that the possibilities of him having a heart attack tomorrow were very real, before his mind asked him another question, “If Kaew was Yao then would she be by my side now, or walking around Pratunam market?”
“Mr. Ian.”
He turned in the direction of the voice to see a young nurse who promptly shoved a thermometer in his mouth. He gagged as it hit the back of his throat, “It is nice to meet you too,” he thought, “I hope that it’s sterile?”
His eyes followed her as she went on to the next patient but regrettably he saw the clock too, “Three thirty. Is that all it is?”
The nurse without a smile went from bed to bed and he watched her disappear through a door into the next ward. The time passed…and passed…and then passed some more. He looked at the clock again, “Fifteen minutes I have had this stuck in my mouth. How long does it take for a thermometer to adjust, about one minute? Not only that it tastes revolting as well?”
He took it out from his mouth. He lent over to place it on the, just out of arms reach, bedside cabinet and as he stretched his abdominal wall muscles squeezed the part of his large intestine that was protruding through the rupture, causing a spasm of intense pain. This sudden jolt to his nervous system forced him to loose his grip of the offensive thermometer, and it fell onto the tiled floor.
“Damn. How am I going to explain that one if I’ve broken it, and I bet that it is?”
He pulled himself to the side of the bed and he looked down, but he couldn’t see it. The bed, for some unknown reason, was very high and it was a struggle for him to get on and off it, and that wasn’t because of his age but due to his hernia, as any form of stretching resulted in agonizing pain. He got off the bed and cursed again, “Where is the damn thing?” He got down on his hands and knees in search of it. It had bounced on the tiled floor and slid under his bed. He stooped further down onto his elbows to reach for it, as he did so he banged his head on the side railing of the bed, “Shit!” he moaned as he retrieved the thermometer. As he stood up rubbing his head he could see the unhappy faced nurse staring at him from the other side of the bed. She looked at him in such a manner that suggested, he should be on a psychiatric ward and not on hers.
“Tam-arrai-you, khaa?” ( Do what you) she asked with a frown. Ian couldn’t think of a way of explaining the situation, so he handed the now covered in dust thermometer back to her. She patted the bed in a hand signal for him to get back on it, which he did with a grimace, however he wasn’t going to get any sympathy from her, only a sigh at the length of time that it took him to do so. She wanted to take his blood pressure so he held out his arm for her to wrap the instrument around his biceps, and while she was doing that he noticed that the other Thai patients were still sucking their thermometers. The nurse was as far from gentle with him as anyone can get, which further convinced him that she thought that he should be in a private hospital. Another thing that he found strange about being in that hospital was the fact that it was a long way from where he lived, and he wondered why Yao had insisted on him having his operation there.
The Air Marshal, who by this time had become a good friend to Ian, had suggested that he went to the Royal Thai Air Force Hospital, which was only a stones throw away from Ian’s house. The Air Marshal told him that he could use his influence with the administration department staff, and he would have had VIP treatment, but Yao pooh-poohed the idea from the offset. He went back to looking at the ceiling.
“I think that this is going to be a long evening, a very long evening indeed,” he thought, “I wish I could have a smoke right now...sigh.”
It was meal time on the ward and he knew that, as he could smell the food before it came onto the ward. He refrained from eating it.
He got off the bed and he went to the toilet, however he didn’t actually need to go it was just a time killing exercise. While he was occupying the enormous bathroom he had a wash and a brush up. On returning to the ward he couldn’t help but see the annoying clock which was telling the time of twenty to six. Some visitors had appeared and they had brought with them fruit, drinks, sandwiches and cartons of milk for their sick friend or family member. Ian was thirsty, hungry and definitely in need of some nicotine. As he walked to his bed his nostrils filed up with the smell of edible food, which made up his mind to go to the 7/11 store that was situated on the ground floor of the hospital.
He went to his bed side cabinet and he took out his shorts. He stood there for a few seconds while he decided that it was best to go back to the bathroom to get changed out of his ‘not so flattering’ pajama bottoms and into his shorts, as he didn’t want to attract any attention by drawing the curtains around his bed. He was unaware that many pairs of eyes were watching him, and they were curious to see what the farang was up to, also no one had informed him that patients are not allowed to leave the ward. The eyes watched him go back to the bathroom. When he came back out with his pajamas neatly folded over his arm, the patient in the first bed asked him in Thai where he was going, to which he replied, “Seven, Eleven khrap,” and the room filled up with silence. The patients and visitors sat open mouthed in disbelief.
They watched him place his pajamas on his bed and walk towards the ward exit, but before he could reach it the happy nurse, who now thought that she had a complete psychopath on her hands, came out from her office, seeing him, she repeated, in Thai, the question, “Mr. Ian, where are you going?”
“I’m going to Seven, Eleven.”
She informed him that he couldn’t go there, and that he was to wait until his wife came back, to which he told her that Yao wasn’t coming back until the next day, also he was very hungry. Her face filled up with frustration over the language barrier, as his Thai was limited and her English was nonexistent. She shrugged her shoulders with a huge frown above her eyes, she said, “Ok, but be quick.”
He was out of the door faster than a greyhound, unfortunately when he got to the elevator he had a big problem. His money, and more importantly his cigarettes, were still sitting in the drawer in his bed side cabinet and not in his shorts pocket, “You idiot,” he snorted and returned to run the gauntlet with happy face, who was standing hands on hips in the same spot as before ranting and raving to her audience of patients and visitors, obviously the farang was the topic of her fury.
“Mai-mee baht, khrap. Farang ting-tong,” Ian said, smiling as he walked past her to his bed. He opened the drawer and took out his wallet with his left hand and his cigarettes with his right. He tried to conceal the packet as he slipped it into the side pocket of his shorts. Silence returned to the room and ignoring the stares he went back to the elevator.
On the ground floor he went straight outside as fast as his legs could carry him to the car park, where he lit a smoke. He took in a huge drag of his cigarette, blowing it out very slowly.
“Well grumpy face,” he said to himself, “I’m going to have at least three of these, as this will be my only chance for a few days. Oh that’s nice.”
He was in the car park for about ten minutes, smoking his head off. He then went to the shop, where he bought two cheese and ham toasted sandwiches, a large carton of iced coffee, a packet of crisps and a cake. On his way back to the elevator he walked past the row of chairs where he had sat with Yao that morning for three hours, while he waited to be admitted.
Back on the ward his favourite nurse was still rooted to the spot, arms folded awaiting his return, as he did so she looked at the clock and then glared at him as he walked past her. She snapped, “Sup-burrie laar, khaa?” ( You’ve been smoking, yes?)
“Mai-chai, khrap. Mai-mee, khrap.” (No, not me.)
“Khun go-hok min mak-mak, khaa.” (You liar stink a lot.)
“Mai-chai khrap,” he said whilst reeking of tobacco smoke.
He was too hungry to be bothered changing out of his shorts before eating, and so he sat on his bed and ate. Once again he felt that many pairs of eyes were transfixed on him, “Now I know what it’s like to be a monkey in a zoo at feeding time,” he thought and he felt like drawing the curtains around his bed to avoid their inquisitive stares.
When he had finished eating, he lay down and rested his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes for no more than a few minutes when he sensed someone was standing at the foot of his bed. On opening his eyes he saw grumpy face glaring at him with her arms folded, so he glared back at her.
“What’s the matter with you, Miss. Happy? If you have come for a piece of chocolate cake well I’m sorry, but I’ve eaten it all.”
His sarcasm was wasted on her as she didn’t understand a word of it, but then he knew that otherwise he wouldn’t have said it. She said nothing in return and just stood there for a few minutes. You could have heard a pin drop as all the eyes were trained in on the spectacle. That’s probably why there wasn’t a TV because who needs one when grumpy face is on duty keeping everyone entertained?
She picked up his pajama bottoms and shook them at him, “Ok…Ok…Cow-chai you khrap. Be a sweetheart and draw the curtains for me please, as going outside for a smoke, and having a good cough has woken up the pains in my groin, and I don’t feel like walking to the bathroom.”
She cocked her head to one side and looked at him as if to say, “Shut up and do what I’ve asked you to do,” before she put the offending pajamas back down on his bed, pointed her finger at them muttering something under her breath in Thai, and so he got off the bed and he went back to the bathroom to find that it was closed, due to it being cleaned. He walked back to his bed still in his shorts. Grumpy face thought that it was an act of defiance, because she was unawares that the cleaner was going about her business. Feeling the tension rising he quickened his step, and immediately drew the curtains around his bed when he got there to get changed.
This was all down to the language barrier as she knew that Ian’s doctor was about to visit him at any minute.
He placed his shorts back into the cabinet. He briskly opened the curtains and then he sat on the side of his bed with his back to grumpy face, as well as those annoying eyes. He looked down at his feet as he felt like a child who had just been scolded for doing something trivial. The big clock had moved to half past six and the sun had gone to sleep for that day. The volume of traffic noise coming through the windows from the direction of Victory Monument had increased, as Thais travelled home from their place of work. His mind started to drift again, “I wonder why Kaew sent me that e-mail…?”
“Mr. Ian?”
He turned and looked over his right shoulder, “Yes.” There was a smartly dressed young man with two ladies of similar age standing at the other side of his bed. The young man enquired, “Can you speak Thai?”
“No, I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“Please lie down as we have to examine you.”
The young ladies drew the curtains around his bed and the doctor, who thought that Ian hadn’t understood him, made a hand signal to suggest to Ian that he wanted him to lie down and so he did so. One of the ladies said, “We are part of your surgical team Mr. Ian. Can we take a look, please?”
The doctor undid the front of Ian’s pajama bottoms. He pressed with his finger tips saying, “Oh! You have already shaven the area, good.”
“Well,” Ian thought, “you don’t think that I’m going to let grumpy face go anywhere near my private parts with a razor blade, do you?”
When the doctor had finished one of the ladies repeated the exercise, and then the three of them engaged in conversation, occasionally nodding their heads in agreement as to what was being discussed. The doctor took a purple felt tip marker pen out of his pocket and he drew a line across the right hand side of Ian’s groin, saying, “Mr. Ian, please do not wash this off as it is where the surgeon will make his wound.”
“Incision!”
“Pardon, what did you say?”
“Incision doctor, a surgeon makes an incision not a wound. A soldier is wounded in battle, so therefore we are not going to fight tomorrow, are we?”
The threesome understood completely Ian’s remark, as well as seeing the funny side of it, causing them to burst into loud laughter. The doctor apologised for his mistake and then reminded Ian not to eat or drink anything after midnight. Ian fastened up his pajamas as the two ladies, still laughing, opened the curtains. Grumpy face was standing nearby awaiting her instructions from the doctor, and from the look that she gave Ian it suggested that they were laughing at her expense, which wasn’t the case at all. Grumpy face spoke at length to the doctor pointing her finger accusingly at Ian several times. The doctor returned to Ian’s bedside, “Mr. Ian, the nurse tells me that you went to ‘Seven’ to buy some food. Have you eaten it all?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s very important that you don’t eat after midnight and please…no more cigarettes. Try to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.” Ian watched the doctor with the ladies walk off the ward, grumpy face went back into her office. She reappeared ten minutes later making a bee-line to Ian’s bed.
She passed Ian a small round plastic tray which contained two very large brown capsules, “And what am I supposed to do with these then grumpy? Swallow them or shove them up my arse?”
She opened her mouth and pointed into it, and then she pointed at his water jug. She didn’t move. He looked at her. She looked at him.
“Hmmm,” he muttered, “I’ll pour my own water then…, shall I?”
He got off his bed whilst she watched him take his medication, as she wasn’t going to move until he had done so. She then pointed at his towel and said, “Shower you, khaa.”
For a horrible moment he thought that she was going to give him a shower, but that wasn’t what she meant. She went back into her office. In the bathroom he got undressed and he went into the open-door shower cubicle to find that the shower head didn’t work, and that it was an Isaan affair. A large blue plastic drum that was full of cold water and a small bucket in which to pour the water over ones head, “Is this a hospital?” he said out loud, as he poured the first bucket load of freezing cold water over his head, “No running hot water…, bloody hell!”
The time ticked slowly by and at 8 o’clock visiting time came to an end. Ian lay on his bed and watched the visitors leave, all of them except for one lady who came over to his bed, taking his bedside chair. She gathered three more chairs and set them in a row beside her sick daughter. He couldn’t figure out what she was doing and then it dawned on him, she was going to sleep on them.
At half past nine he phoned Yao which he didn’t think that he would be allowed to do as mobile phones have to remain switched off in an English hospital. They interfere with medical equipment apparently but this was Thailand. Yao didn’t have much to say other than ask him if he had eaten, it was a short call!
Just after ten it was time for the regular blood pressure check and our happy nurse came out of her office to do her rounds. When she had taken Ian’s blood pressure she also measured his pulse rate whilst watching the big clock tick fifteen seconds and then she paused for a while as her brain worked out his heart beats per minute. She wrote her findings on his chart and left the chart on the foot of his bed as she walked off to her next patient. Being an inquisitive chap he took a look at the chart and she had written a pulse rate of 82 well he checked his pulse himself and his heart beat 14 times in fifteen minutes which to his calculations meant 56 so how she came to make it 82 remains a mystery?
Ten minutes later or so without a word being spoken she gave him two more of the big brown difficult to swallow capsules. He didn’t know and she couldn’t tell him that they were in fact very strong laxatives.
The main ward lights were switched off and dim night lights replaced them but unfortunately they were bright enough for him to still clearly see the annoying clock. He tried to sleep but his mind wouldn’t let him over what tomorrow had got in store for him. The time ticked slowly by…
A different nurse came to his bedside and she inserted a one meter long stainless steel tube with two hooks on one end into a location hole at the bottom left hand corner of his bed. She then hung a plastic one liter bottle of intravenous drip on one of the hooks and then she put a needle which had a small valve at one end into a large vein in his left wrist, securing it with two strips of tape. She coupled up a tube that came from the bottle to the valve and then she flicked a sight glass with her finger to actuate the drip and it was all administered in silence and without a smile. He observerved that the other patient’s drips were suspended from mobile frames and he couldn’t understand why his was fastened to his bed other than it was done that way to prevent the farang from going for a walkabout.
Shortly after midnight the laxatives started to do their job and he needed to go to the toilet but he was in a predicament being tethered to his bed and there being an absence of a button to press in which to call for assistance. He thought that maybe he could wait until a nurse came out of the office but after a short while the pressure in his bowels became such that he got out of bed, he lifted the bottle stand out of its slot and he dashed to the toilet.
When he got into the toilet he lent the stand up against the wall because he needed to use both of his hands to undo the draw cord in his pajama bottoms. For the drip to function properly it had to be kept above his head height which was impossible for him to do and as a result his blood pressure reversed the process causing blood to flow up the tube. With his mind focused on the job in hand he didn’t notice it for a while as he was pleased to get to the toilet without him having an accident. He could imagine what would have happened if he had had to ask grumpy for a clean pair of pajamas. Only when he started to refasten the cord did he notice the now red tube. He panicked. His blood had travelled about half a meter up the tube. He instantly knew why it had happened so he quickly picked up the stand and held it up high.
Back at his bedside with the stand reinserted into its slot he flicked the sight glass, “Come on drip,” it didn’t so he flicked it again, “Drip, damn it!” His heart was racing, he could hear it thumping away in his ears, “Drip, please,” he said in a panic as he flicked it for a third time. He waited and watched and then gravity took control, it started to drip again, “Thank you, thank you,” he whispered.
He got back into bed with his eyes fixed on the drip. His skin was cold with fear, he looked at the tube and he made a mental note of where his blood stopped and the clear liquid from the bottle started. He looked at the clock it was five minutes to one. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead. His eyes shifted continuously from the clock to the tube, from the tube to the clock, from the clock to the drip. He was cold but his hair was drenched with perspiration. He got under the thin blanket and continued his surveillance and at last he could definitely see that his blood was going back into his arm.
He pulled his blanket up to his chin and he closed his eyes. All he could hear was his heart pounding, “I hope that I haven’t given myself a blood clot,” he thought as he tried to sleep.
At two the ward main lights were switched back on as it was time for the four hourly blood pressure checks. He opened his eyes and looked at the tube and there was still a trace of blood to be seen although it had been watered down by now and was pinkish in colour.
He hid his arm under the blanket before a nurse came to his bedside. She checked his drip first and then his blood pressure and pulse. The checks were completed and the lights switched off. He tried to sleep but alas his mind wouldn’t let him and he started thinking about what he was doing three years ago…
Chapter Two: An open verdict!
“Good evening Ian. You’re early today. We have only just opened.”
“Hiya Mark, I’m very hungry as I started work at five this morning.”
“You’re still busy, then?”
“Yes, there’s no end to it.”
“Is anyone going to be joining you Ian, as we have a lot of bookings this evening?”
“No Mark, I’m dining alone.”
“Well, do you mind sitting by the window, please?”
“No, not at all, can I have a menu, please and bring me a beer while you’re at it?”
“Singha?” Mark asked.
“Of course, how’s Maliwan?
“She’s fine thanks. She’s busy in the kitchen.”
“Here you are, one very cold Singha for a very tired man and what would you like to eat?”
“Mark, a menu please.”
“Ian, how many times have you dined here? This is your third time this week. You know our menu off by heart.” Mark laughed.
“Hmmm… I’ll start with king prawn on sesame toast, do you have any duck?”
“Yes, Maliwan went to the market this morning.”
“Good then I shall have duck in green curry soup with egg fried rice, thank you.”
“Ok and I’ll get you another beer as that one seems to be almost gone.”
“Mark, you’re a mind reader, say hello to Maliwan for me.”
“Will do and if your glass runs dry again while you’re waiting for your food just give me a shout,” Mark said with a big smile.
Ian watched Mark scurry off into the kitchen. He lent back into his chair and stretched his arms over his head giving out a yawn as he did so. He picked up his glass and emptied it in one gulp. He filled it up again from his fresh bottle and he ran his finger down the side of his glass, “I do hope that I can sell my house before Christmas,” he thought, “I’ve had enough of engineering.”
As he slowly drank his beer the restaurant began to fill up with dinners and Mark ran around single handed trying to serve them drinks and take their food orders. It was a small Thai restaurant down a back street in Macclesfield. Maliwan did all the cooking as she was a perfectionist and she didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Ian sat with an empty glass for some time so he decided to go outside for a smoke but when he got to the door, “Ian, saa-wad-dee jaa, you no time to smoking, your pawn toass.”
“Saa-wad-dee khrap, Maliwan, how are you?”
“Oh! Busy very no time for speaking. Your glass empty, Mark! Ian no have dink, lazy you,” she barked at Mark, “Ian, you looking tired very, are you to work tomorrow?”
Ian sat back down at his table as Maliwan placed down his starter, he replied, “Yes and Sunday again.”
“You working too much, I worry you, eat now,” she smiled at him and turned to Mark, “Mark! Beer for Ian… Now!” she shouted angrily.
Maliwan was Isaan Thai and although she had moved to England a long time ago she still spoke with a heavy Thai accent. Mark originated from South Africa and was from Dutch descent. They made an odd couple as he was many years her junior and it was obvious who wore the trousers in their relationship. They were not married however they had been living together for several years and the restaurant was definitely owned by Maliwan.
A big round table that could easily seat eight people sat next to the kitchen and Ian noticed a ‘reserved’ sign on it. It was only ever used for special customers or friends of the family and Ian wondered as to who the guests would be. As he was eating his main course four Thai women entered the restaurant and sat at that table. He hadn’t seen them before but they must have been important as Maliwan came straight out of the kitchen and she made a big fuss of them. They seemed to enter into a serious discussion and Maliwan sat down at the table for some time listening stern faced as to what was being said until Mark reminded her that customers were waiting for their food.
Ian finished eating and he ordered one last beer before he returned to his house to continue the work on his kitchen in preparation to put it up for sale, and that was the reason why he was spending so much time and money dining out.
The youngest and shortest of the ladies walked past his table on her way to the toilet and he could see that she had been crying. When she came back out from the toilet he was just about to leave, but he asked her in Isaan Thai if she was alright, he said, “Saa-bai-dee-boar?”
“You can speak Thai, will you help me, please?” she spluttered as she started to cry again and she sat down at his table.
“Why? What’s the matter?” He enquired with a concerned expression.
“Please come and sit with us…, please,” she begged.
Ian stood up and followed her to the round table where he was given a Thai greeting from the other ladies. He sat down opposite them bewildered as to what it was all about. One of the ladies said something to Maliwan through the serving hatch into the kitchen.
Maliwan came out of the kitchen and presented Ian with another beer, “Maliwan I’m driving and I’ve drank four already,” he protested.
“Never mind darling, beer small bottle,” she said smiling.
“A small bottle they may be but a big price,” Ian declared.
“Bottle have to pay for flight, never mind, Sue buy for you.”
Ian turned to face the ladies and he enquired as to which one of them had bought him a beer.
“I’m Sue,” the oldest one announced, “and this is Jan and her name’s Cathy, we are nurses at Macclesfield hospital and ….” Ian cut her short, “Just a minute, Jan,” he paused as he took a drink of beer, “I’m sure that I met you last Christmas. You were one of the nurses that were looking after my mother, aren’t you? Don’t you remember? I spoke to you in Thai.”
“Yes I do. Your mum died, didn’t she on Christmas Eve?”
“Yes...yes she did.” His eyes saddened.
“I’m sorry to hear that Ian,” Sue said sympathetically.”
“We all die one day Sue now then what’s the problem?” he said changing the subject as he didn’t want to dwell on the matter.
“Well, its Molly here and she has a big problem, can you help us as we don’t know a lot of English words when it comes to legal matters.”
“Legal matters Sue. I’m not a lawyer I’m an engineer how can I help?” He told them dumbfounded.
Sue passed Ian a letter which was addressed to Molly and he started to read it, Molly however said nothing, she just sat with her head bowed quietly crying into a tissue. The letter was from a lawyer and it said in a nut shell that her husband was no longer going to financial support her, and it was due to the fact that she had left him eighteen months ago and returned to Thailand after taking 30,000 pounds out of their joint bank account. He paused for thought and another drink of beer, “I really don’t know how I can help you. You need to see a lawyer not me,” he protested.
“Molly’s visa runs out tomorrow and she is flying back to Bangkok in the morning to renew it. I’ve had to lend her the money. All we want you to do is talk to her husband and his lawyer, because his lawyer will not see us,” Sue pleaded.
“She stole Pete’s money,” Molly sobbed, “She bad woman. I am his wife.”
“Sue, Molly needs to see a lawyer and I’m not sure if I want to get involved with this situation as I haven’t got any free time. Why did she take 30,000 pounds from the account and why won’t his lawyer talk to you and also why did Molly stay in Thailand for such a long time? ”
“Pete already owns a condominium in Pattaya but Molly doesn’t want to live there and the money was spent having a house built near her village,” Sue explained.
“Pete say he want to build house in village. I stay and watch house build. They take long time to build house. Thai builder very greedy he try to con me. I no trust him. I check what he do and how much he spend. When house finished I buy nice bed for Pete and a comfy chair for him to sit. I call Pete many times but woman voice say he phone not working. Pete lawyer no good woman, she steal his money give me no food.”
Ian listened carefully to what Molly had to say and he picked up his beer and drank it before saying, “Molly, you are going back to Bangkok tomorrow and so I shall give you Yao’s phone number. You can call her once you are there and tell her your story. If she says that I can help you then I shall but if she says otherwise then it will not be my problem and I shall not get involved,” Ian stood up, “I have to go now as I have to work on my house. It has been nice to meet you and I’m sorry about your problems. Maliwan can I have a pen, please and a piece of paper as well as my bill.”
Maliwan brought him a pen and some paper as well as a another bottle of Singha, “Maliwan, if that beer is for me then I’m not drinking it. I’m going home.” He wasn’t pleased about being forced to drink and drive, “You can put the top back on it and I’ll take it with me, if you like? Here you are Molly, Yao’s phone number.”
“Ian, can I have your mobile number and … are you free this Sunday afternoon?” Sue asked.
“I’m working at the factory until at least four o’clock, why?”
“I would like you to meet Pete and talk to him for a while and see what you think. He lives in Winkle and it’s not far and ... can I have your home phone number as well?”