Bangkok. Take Two

It's not even Thanksgiving, but it's Christmas season in Bangkok.

Traffic is Bangkok is like traffic in Manhattan.  

This is my second time in Bangkok for a visa run.  The first was primarily spent either in a hospital bed with my leg elevated or in a hotel bed with my leg elevated.  At least the hotel had mega English cable channels on TV.  On the other hand, the hospital provided 24 hour service for anything I needed from food to bed baths and bed pans.   

This time, I was looking forward to the shopping and dining I missed the first try.  I’ve been to Bangkok twice before these visa runs and know it has a lot to offer.  I was a bit dismayed when I came down with a cold a few days before leaving for Bangkok and then a knuckle on my hand became very swollen and painful.  Damn, is there a Bangkok curse?

I arrived Thursday evening and had a terrific dinner at a Mexican restaurant with one of the guys I teach with.  Food, tequila and conversation were good.  Plus, no talk of work/Mandalay. 

Friday I visited the hospital twice and in between got a two hour massage and ordered some custom silk blouses.  Coming home at six pm from the hospital proved frustrating.  A cab came when called but then demanded double the fare.  Wrong.  Or, perhaps not.  It was Friday night in Bangkok and traffic was gridlocked.  I then waited almost an hour for another taxi. 

 

I got great care at a good price from compassionate people at Camillian hospital.  But I hope I never go there again.

I saw this sign while sitting in traffic on my way home.  What kind of business has the slogan "If you can do it, you will see the difference!"  A tailor.

I stepped back inside to wait and avoid the mosquitoes, where I ran into an employee who’d been especially helpful during my stay previously.  She not only remembered my name but also the part of town where I’d stayed.  I showed her my appointment slip for the following day and she looked concerned.  I hadn’t really paid attention but she’d noticed that the appointment wasn’t for Saturday, it was for Sunday.

She went to check it out while I kept watch for the taxi.  As luck would have it, the taxi pulled up immediately after she walked off.  I asked him to wait and went running after her.  All this in sign language, of course.  I caught up to her, got a new appointment slip with the correct date and ran back, only to see the taxi taking off.  Damn, he’d seemed to understand and agree.

 

In front of the hospital.  These guys were great.

I enlisted the help of the orderlies who’d helped me call a taxi so many times.  They ran after the guy, yelling in Thai.    He stopped.  Big sigh of relief.  Then he backed up and parked.  And got out of the car.  The orderlies and I were looking at each other in confusion.  As the driver ran past us I heard an orderly translate one word:  toilet. 

Good thing he used the facilities because once we agreed that I’d pay the meter rate and headed into traffic, it was slow going.  I don’t know why I always forget that traffic on Sukhumvit (and everywhere else in the city) is gridlock on a Friday night.  And Saturday, Sunday, etc.

We got stuck in a real snarl near the Emporium mall.  Ho, ho, ho, all the Thai Buddhists were Christmas shopping.  Towering Christmas trees in front of malls, Christmas carols blaring (in English) and ads for “holiday” specials.   Because of the number of cars trying to exit the mall, traffic was not moving.  At all.  We sat for over 30 minutes when traffic started crawling again. 

Finally, he made a bold move around a bus, raced through an almost red light and there was space ahead.  He floored it and we simultaneously started yelling with excitement.  We made eye contact and laughed out loud.  It was one of those moments I call pearls – a moment of perfect joy.  He didn’t speak English, I don’t speak Thai, I was at least 30 years older and none of that mattered.  We were sharing a small but excellent moment.

On Saturday, instead of heading to Chatuchuk market, as planned, I was headed back to the hospital.  After a blood test, the doctor was concerned that I had a bacterial infection in the bone in my hand.  Or, possibly lupus.  I figured spending a few hours waiting with the dozens of other people to see a doctor were worth it to see a specialist.

It took all morning but I got great news.  Just the gouty arthritis I’ve had before.  It hadn’t bothered me in years but had flared up when I was in the hospital.  A reaction to the trauma of the infection according to the doctor.  i was given drugs and was on my way.  Let the vacation begin.

I had a fitting for my blouses on Saturday afternoon, spent some time on the internet and then met more co-workers for dinner.  At the same Mexican restaurant.  It was a fun evening with lots of laughs, although we had to consciously keep moving the conversation away from work.

Sunday morning I planned to leave really early for the Chatuchuck market, which opens at 6:00 a.m.  My body disagreed and I didn’t get up until 7:00 a.m.  After a quick shower and easy Skytrain ride, I arrived at the market around 8:15.  Good thing I didn’t get there earlier, since many of the vendors were just opening for business.

I spent about four hours at the market.  It’s big, but not as huge as I’d expected.  Most stalls are under roof and it’s a maze to get through.  Both junk and treasures, depending upon your perspective. 

It’s the kind of market I love to explore.   I know many people think it’s intimidating to travel alone, but this market is an example of why I love it.  I went at my own pace, stopping at what interested me and passing by things that didn’t.  I can’t imagine doing a market like this as part of a tour.  I had a small bottle of orange juice which I saw being squeezed.  I passed by all the food stalls, reluctantly.  I was more focused on shopping than eating.

 

It was early when I got to the market and the crowds hadn't arrived.  They were in full force by the time I left.

Hungry for a little Turkish food?  Bangkok (and the market) has it all.

And lots of tempting beverages.

Maua ili i le marketi!  Looks just like the fans I used everyday in Samoa.  One was my first purchase of the day.  $1 USD.

Tired of the market?  Grab some food from one of the dozens of food vendors on the street and rent a mat from a guy so you can enjoy a picnic in Chatuchuk Park, next to the market.

Have you ever shopped so much that you couldn’t remember every thing you bought?  That was my day.  It was fun to unload my backpack and rediscover my treasures.  A wallet.  Two muscle shirts for new grandsons of friends.  Bath salt scrub stuff to make my showers in Mandalay luxurious.  A blouse.  Two pairs of sandals.  Three DVDs which I'm sure are not black market.  Two silk pillow coverings for a friend who visited Thailand with me in 2003.  A silk hanging for my apartment in Mandalay.  A hand made paper hanging for my apartment.  Vegetable seeds and a jigsaw puzzle for my kids.  Cool hair clips for my assistant teachers.

All that loot for less than $100.  My kind of shopping.  Even after realizing that I got ripped off on the shoes.  If I’d bought the exact same thing on the street outside the market, I would have saved about ½.  But then again, I only paid $12, so was able to get over it quickly.

By the time I got back to my hotel I was sweaty, tired and getting hungry.  But happy.  After a bit of a rest and checking the internet, I headed out to find a late lunch.  I headed toward a nearby Chinese restaurant where I’d seen duck hanging out front.

There were few other customers there at 2:30 p.m. and I was offered a large table.  I relaxed and ordered honey roasted duck, stir fried morning glory with oyster sauce and rice.  And a Singha beer.  They didn’t blink that a woman alone was ordering a beer and brought it immediately, icy cold with a frosted mug.  Moments later the food began to arrive.  It was really good and I ate more than I should have.  All of that deliciousness was less than $15, USD.

With a full belly and a bit of a buzz (it was a large beer), I headed to the massage place near my hotel.  I left my shoes outside and settled in for two hours of bliss.  One hour of foot/leg massage, followed by an hour of Thai massage.  The Thai massage was a bit different than usual, with less stretching and pulling and more pressing and rubbing.  She found the knots in my shoulders and worked on those before taking care of the rest of me.  Here's a travel tip.  Do NOT wear a new pair of sandals to get a massage, after having a large beer.  I left my shoes outside, with all the others.  Between my relaxed state and the new shoes, took me a minute to find them.

I was planning to meet my school friends for a movie and dinner but the massage went a bit longer than scheduled (and I was not about to complain), so headed to a nearby food court.  I was still full from the large lunch so snagged a fresh cheese naan and mango and sticky rice for my dinner. 

It’s been a splendid vacation so far.  I’ve been able to Skype with a couple of friends, IM with others and just enjoy a change of scene.  I’ve got two more days before I leave.  I’m planning grocery shopping since I want to bring back “basics” like pickle relish, tortilla chips, refried beans and green chiles.  I also want to hit an area where I hear I can buy the kind of jewelry that will make my assistant teachers very happy.  There will be at least two more massages.  I plan to get a haircut.  I plan to eat Thai food.  And, I’ll be planning my visa run for January.  I’m thinking Kuala Lumpur this time, although staying in Bangkok would work, too.

I love, love, love living only two hours from Bangkok.

Mandalay, Here I Come!

Sunset view of the moat around the palace in Mandalay

Everyone at Camellian Hospital was so nice to me.  They were empathetic, professional and friendly.  It was nice to go in and have everyone know my name.  Having said all that, I hope I never see any of them again unless we happen to run into each other on the street in Bangkok.

I spent several hours at the hospital this morning before getting the good news from Dr. P.  I'll take oral antibiotics for the next couple of weeks and he told me to spend more time prone than upright to keep the pain and swelling down.  Whatever, I'm free and I'm heading home to Mandalay.

I've been touched with the number of messages I've been getting every day from my fellow teachers at the school.  We all live in a new apartment building on the school compound.  It's a congenial group and while we each have our own apartments, it feels a bit like living in a dorm.  The good news is that people are sensitive to let others have their own space or socialize, as they choose.

After a school day that starts at 6:30 a.m. and ends at 4 or 5 p.m. and is filled with very energetic (and loud) first graders, I tend to prefer evenings of solitude and silence.  After almost three weeks of solitude and silence I'm ready for some conversation.

One of the challenges of our living situation is that we live together and work together.  On a daily basis there's not a lot of new stuff to talk about.  That will be different when I get home, since most of us were on vacation at the same time and went to a variety of places.  I can't wait to hear stories of trips to Bagan, Angkor Wat, the USA and others.

My flight leaves at 10:50 a.m. tomorrow and arrives in Mandalay at 12:15 p.m. (with a 30 minute time difference).  For practical reasons, I'm hoping that the driver will be willing to stop at the grocery store so I can pick up fresh bread, veggies, etc.  But on the other hand, if we head straight back to school, I should get there in time to pop in and surprise my kids.  I can't wait to see them.

I'm planning not to teach again until next Monday.  After the travel tomorrow, I suspect my leg is going to be ready for some "up" time on Friday.  Plus, I have report cards to finish (overdue) and lesson plans for next week, after I figure out what the assistant teachers covered in my absence.

I'm taking back some things I bought here.  I didn't shop much my first couple of days and then was bed bound so was thrilled that my last hotel is right next door to the Villa market.  It has American prices (or higher) and imported food geared toward foreign tastes.  I'm taking home taco seasoning, Italian seasoning, cumin, several cans of green chiles (at about $4 for a small can) and a couple boxes of Kraft Mac and Cheese for those moments when only over-processed food from my poor college days will soothe the homesickness.

I'm also taking back gifts for my assistant teachers.  They work very hard.  They make my life so much easier.  They are smart, sweet and caring.  And, not on purpose, I dumped the class on them for two weeks.  The gifts are small but I hope they enjoy them.

What is amazing to me is how I've felt about this whole experience.  I didn't want to go to the doctor in the first place but sucked it up and went.  Then I had several very difficult hours after he broke the news that I needed immediate treatment while I tried to get my hands on money to pay for my care.

Once I had the money in hand, I wasn't worried, scared or sad.  I just felt relieved that I could turn myself over to someone to take care of me and help me feel better.  The doctor, nurses, priests and other staff at Camellian did that perfectly.  For the six days in the hospital, I just relaxed and went with the routine.  Once out, I didn't like having to change hotels three times but got into the routine of IV treatment in the morning followed by bed, television and internet for the rest of the day.  I was amazed at how content I was to be a slug.

Having said that, I'm ready to go back to my school and life routine in Mandalay.  I promise to take more photos and upload them regularly.

Photos - School, Bangkok and Hospital

Here are some of the photos that were in my camera.

More gardening - more sand than soil but you have to work with what you've got.  That's garage under my apartment in the background.

I like to do classes outside.  So do the kids.  This day, they were practicing map reading skills by using a pirate map to find buried treasure.

The kids were totally into the treasure hunt.

$3 worth of Myanmar take out food.  Delicious.

My $.30 ring from the Nat festival.  I took it off in the hospital because it was turning my finger green.

More Myanmar takeout.  Barbecue skewers of potato, garlic and pork.  Delicious but every single bite of meat had a bone in it.  That's Myanmar food. 

Sadly, this was my next door neighbor Jodi's last day in Mandalay.  She's holding "Brownie" the cat we all share.

First night in Bangkok.  I walked to Sunrise Tacos at Terminal 21 and brought home nachos and chicken tortilla soup.

And I worry about plugging two things into an extension cord.

For mi amigo Juan in Santa Fe

On the Istanbul floor in Terminal 21

Bling is popular in Asia.

My $2 lunch from the food court at Terminal 21.  Pad Thai and mango and sticky rice.

Toilet options in public restroom at Terminal 21

Public toilet

The San Francisco floor at Terminal 21

Food court at Terminal 21

Jodi and I went back for Mexican before heading off to get me fingerprinted.

Yup, that's me - being fingerprinted in the Bangkok police station.

The bad leg just before I went to the hospital.  Really, does it look that bad?  I expected some pills, not  a week in the hospital.

My view in ICU.  After the first few hours they upgraded me to a glassed-in room in ICU.

I believe if you're healthy enough to be taking selfies, you don't belong in ICU.  Those are the GIANT pajamas I wore everyday.  All other pairs were pink.

Plugged in to the antibiotics.

My very nice private room.

Lunch - chicken, cauliflower, salad with tuna and sliced asian pear.

Breakfast - bacon, toast, apple and grape juice.  Since they delivered tomatoes and lettuce I made a BLT.

The giant pink pjs.  Note that they cover about half the bed.

On8 Hotel.  The flash doesn't show the ambient lighting the room provided.

Room service - a hamburger with no egg.  Guess they missed that part about no egg.  That's the tiniest piece of incredibly stale blueberry cheesecake I've ever tasted.

Just Get Me to the Hospital

Before I arrived in Bangkok, I'd researched hotels and booked a room at a place that was highly rated on both agoda.com and tripadvisor.com.  I booked and paid for the room for my entire stay.

Then the hospital stay interfered.   Because I'd prepaid, I ended up paying both the hotel and hospital for two nights.  When I got out of the hospital I hoped to go back to Citypoint but they were full.  My first night out of the hospital I stayed at On8, which wasn't far from Citypoint and was very nice, although the room had no window and "mood" lighting which is great for romance but stinks for reading in bed.

After one night at On8, I moved back to Citypoint for a couple of nights.  Unfortunately, though, they were full again on the 27th so I had to find another place for the remainder of my stay in Bangkok.

I loved Citypoint so was surprised this morning when it was time to check out.  They insisted "No, you stay until tomorrow, the 28th!"  I reminded the clerk that I'd asked to stay until the 30th but had been told that they were fully booked on the 27th.  I'd even checked the day before when I got back from the hospital to see if they'd had any cancellations.  No, they hadn't and I'd have to check out.

The very sweet clerk showed me the check-in form that showed I was staying to the 28th.  Except it was originally marked the 27th, which had been crossed out and the 28th written in.  I felt bad- I would have preferred to stay another night - or 3.

Once we sorted that out, I was running late.  I'd allowed 1 1/2 hours to check out of the hotel, stop by the new hotel (which was directly on the way to the hospital) and then go on to the hospital.  Normally, it's a 10 minute drive.

A bellman went out to get a taxi for me and explain about the dropping off the luggage before going to the hospital.  But after 15 minutes there was no taxi so I grabbed my bags and headed to the street where I caught up with the bellman.  Several cabs stopped and refused to take me.  I don't know why.  The bellman said they didn't want to turn into the hotel and then have to go to the hospital.

At that point I was running late so gave up and figured I'd just take my luggage with me to the hospital.  After another 10 minutes, I got a cab.  I asked him to pop the trunk for my suitcase.  He said to put it in the back seat.  As I wrestled with the large suitcase, he watched.

Once at the hospital, I checked in, as usual.  Not as usual, they directed me to sit in a different area.  Ten minutes later a nurse came and asked me to follow her to the triage area, where my whole hospital experience began 9 days ago.

She weighed me (5 lbs down!) and measured my height.  Then we sat and she took my temp and blood pressure.  Then she asked why I was there.  She had my file in front of her, opened to a clean new "outpatient" page.  I pointed at the IV port in my hand and said I was there to get the IV antibiotics.  I also pointed to the appointment sheet in her hand, which documented when and why I was supposed to be there.  She smiled, nodded and copied the information onto the blank sheet.

Next she took me to wait in my usual spot, outside the injection room.  Five minutes later one of the nurses I knew came and got me to plug me in.  Yesterday it took almost two hours for the IV because the drip was so slow.  Today, 25 minutes.  I have no idea why one day they insisted it be so slow and today we were back to normal.

One of the nurses escorted me to pay (less than $30 for the entire treatment) and then took me outside where she explained to the staff there I needed a taxi and where I wanted to go.  After a short wait, the guys helped me and my luggage into the taxi and explained to the driver where to take me.

I got into the cab and asked the driver if he understood where I wanted to go.  Yes, he did.  And he knew how to get there?  No, he didn't.  But he had a general idea so off we went.

In broken English he chatted with me.  One of his first questions was how old I was.  He seemed disappointed when I told him 62.  He was only 54.  That's when I discovered that he is widowed and would like to be remarried.

Finding the hotel required a couple of stops to ask for help but we found it and he watched as I hauled my luggage out.  Then he waited to make sure this really was where I wanted to go, since it appeared to be just a restaurant.  Actually, The Dubliner is a B&B, with a restaurant/pub on the first floor and a hotel above.

Happily, I was quickly checked in and my room was ready.  It's not quite as fancy as Citypoint, but it's a great location, clean and has everything I need for my last few days (hopefully!) in Bangkok.

And tomorrow, I can just step outside for a 5 minute taxi ride to the hospital.  With no luggage and no hassle.

The Perfect Vacation

I was really looking forward to a week in Bangkok.  Technically, I had to leave Myanmar so that I could reenter the country to renew my visa.  But it made a great excuse for a vacation.

I had lots of plans.  I was scheduled to arrive on Saturday and planned to dine on Mexican food for dinner, then relax.  On Sunday I planned to go to Chatuchak market - an enormous weekend market.  On Monday, I had an appointment to go to the Embassy to get my fingerprints.  I need them to get my CA teachers' certificate.  After that, I planned to walk, shop, eat street food and relax.

Those were my plans.  When I arrived Saturday, I walked from my apartment to a nearby Mexican food restaurant and got a fix.  Not great but it was Mexican food.   On Sunday, I wasn't feeling 100% and my leg was sore so I passed on the big market and chose to just walk and window shop on Sukhumvit road.  After a few hours, my leg had had it and I headed back to enjoy WIFI and cable TV.

On Monday I headed to my appointment at the Embassy.  My experience there deserves a post of it's own.  Bottom line, it took 2 hours to discover that they no longer do fingerprints.  As long as I was there, I paid $82 to have additional pages added to my passport, since I'll be needing them sooner or later.

After my experience at the embassy, I strolled up the road and picked up some street food before heading back to my hotel to chill for the rest of the day.  I still just wasn't feeling 100%.

On Tuesday, a friend from Mandalay came to my hotel and we headed out for brunch and then to find the special police station where the embassy had directed me to get my fingerprints done.  Happily, as much as a hassle as it was to get into the US embassy only not to have my needs met, my experience with the Thai police was just the opposite.

It did start off a little shaky when we were asked for ID to get onto the police compound.  Jodi and I both whipped out our passports but the guards frowned and said no.  They kept asking for our hotel card.  I pulled out a business card from my hotel but that got another frown.  Jodi pulled out her Myanmar drivers' license and that got a big grin.  Who knew Myanmar ID would trump an American passport?  I realized later it was probably because they were going to hold the ID and probably knew we wouldn't be comfortable handing over our passports.  I think they were actually hoping to have us hand over a hotel key to ensure we came back.

20 minutes later I'd been fingerprinted and thought I was home free until the official asked for a copy of my passport.  I didn't have one.  He sent us off to get a copy with some sketchy directions.  We headed in the direction he pointed to and because I'm a woman, I immediately stopped the first guy I saw to ask for help.

He was well dressed and being escorted to a car by a number of police officers - more like a boss than a perp.  I really meant to get the attention of one of the officers standing by the sidelines but the "boss" asked in perfect English what I needed.  I explained and in Thai, he directed an officer to make a copy of my passport.  He explained that they don't normally do that but he wanted to help.  As soon as he knew I was set, he got in the car and was off.  I'll never know who he was but I'm very grateful.

Next, we were off to find the pharmacy where Jodi needed to get some prescriptions renewed.  She wasn't sure exactly where it was and assumed we could just walk around and find it.  By then, my leg was killing me and I just felt generally puny.  We walked a bit and then I sat and enjoyed an iced tea while she did a bit more shopping.  We decided to both head to our separate hotels and I begged off dinner.  I felt bad about it but just didn't want to push it any more.

I walked several blocks back to my hotel and then just relaxed for the rest of the day.

On Wednesday, I bit the bullet.  I knew my leg was getting worse, not better and I had to see a doctor before heading back to Myanmar on Friday.  I figured I'd wait a few hours at the hospital, see a doctor for a nanosecond, be given some pills and be on my way.  I was incorrect.

I registered at the hospital and was sent to a nurse for triage.  I seemed to be the only foreigner in the area and English was not widely spoken.  The first nurse looked at my leg and touched it.  She immediately called over another nurse who then called a third nurse.  I was asked to have a seat.  A few minutes later a young woman came over and explained that she would escort me to the Emergency room because I needed to see a doctor right away.

Ten minutes later I was on my back on a gurney with a doctor examining my leg.  About 30 seconds later he explained that I needed to be admitted immediately because I had an aggressive infection that could be life threatening.  And, the worst thing I could do was stand or let my leg be below heart level.  Ok, he had my attention.  I was ready to be admitted.

My English translator escorted me to admissions where things hit a snag.  I had to put down a 30% deposit for my stay.  That's when I found out that my stay would be a minimum of seven days, at a rate of B10,000 per day.  I had about B10,000 on me.  They accepted credit cards but only MasterCard (and mine was safely in Myanmar) and Visa.  I had American Express.  I was sent off to find cash.

I headed back to my hotel, feeling crappy and a tiny bit freaked out.  After hours of trying to figure out how to come up with thousands of dollars, when it was the middle of the night in the US, I finally got help from American Express.  Who knew that if you have a medical emergency overseas and they won't accept AMEX, they'll wire cash.  I was on the phone with a charming guy in Wisconsin for almost two hours and he arranged for money to be wired to a bank near my hotel.  I limped over there and with cash in hand was ready to head back to the hospital.

I arrived back at Camellian Hospital arriving just after 5:00 p.m.  I'd started at 9:00 a.m.  At that point I wasn't worried, I just wanted to lie down and be left alone.  They put me on a gurney in ER to wait for the doctor to get back from rounds.  When he arrived I moved to another gurney for the trip to the ICU.  The doctor was concerned that I might have a bad reaction to the IV antibiotics and wanted me to be closely monitored.

Once in ICU I faced the first real challenge.  Pajamas.  I was surrounded by a covey of nurses when one walked up with some pjs and the other nurses started taking off my clothes.  I called a halt and using sign language, asked if the pjs were lovely Thai woman sized or big fat butt American sized.  The nurses looked at me.  They looked at the pjs and the nurse holding them started laughing and turned around to get a larger set.  She returned with a pair so big that two sumo wrestlers could have fit in them.

They they connected me to all possible machines, informed me that my temp was 102 and my blood pressure was too high.  So far, we'd acknowledged that I was fat and sick.  I was looking forward to the good news.

That didn't come until the next day when they announced that I'd been there 24 hours, hadn't had a bad reaction to the antibiotics and was being moved to a step down unit.  One nurse and I were especially happy that I was leaving ICU.  We'd had an "encounter" at 3:00 a.m. that morning.  I was dozing and she crept up behind me like Ninja warrior.  When she grabbed my wrist to take wrestle me into submission (or take my pulse) it intersected with a dream I was having and as I came out of the fog I screamed and leaped as far away from her as my medical tethers would allow.  That caused her to let out a yelp.  For a moment we just stared at each other and tried to get our heart rates down to normal.  Since I was being monitored, mine set off alarms which drew several other nurses who had a good laugh over the situation.

After a quick ride on another gurney I was installed in a lovely private room.  And I had to pee.  Because I'm not a fan of bedpans and that's all I had access to in ICU I'd been holding it.  What I hadn't factored in is that while I was in ICU I had stress induced gout attacks in both feet.  Now I had painful stumps at the bottom of my legs and the original sore leg that I came in with.

Five brave, tiny Thai nurses decided they could surround me and muscle me into the bathroom.  I wanted to stagger there alone since if I fell, I was going to take somebody out.  The next day when I told the priest about it he laughed and said they were short staffed so please don't crush all their nurses to death.

It wasn't the best start to my "new" vacation but for the next five days I relaxed.  I read.  I watched marathon seasons of The Sopranos.  The nurses brought me food, gave me bed baths and brought me drugs.  Who could ask for more?  Well, I could and I didn't care if I had to use a chair - I finally got to shower on my own.

It wasn't the vacation I'd planned.  It stretched out more than a week longer than planned.  But I'm on the road to recovery and I'm very grateful for the excellent and empathetic care I received.  Besides, I'm a veteran couch potato.  What's better than being forced to do absolutely nothing for awhile?