The pain in my shoulder blade, back and chest, the result of last week's motorbike crash, has been very persistent and debilitating. I can walk now, but very, very slowly. When I need to go to the bathroom, I factor in travel time. Now, I live in fear of coughing or sneezing because of the pain these formerly routine actions cause in my chest and back. I stopped smoking cigarettes after the accident, and my lungs began to expel all the phlegm. That's great, except it hurts SO much when I try to clear the phlegm from my throat and chest. I'm often left wheezing with every breath. The old geezer is a wheezer.
To combat these issues, I visited three different doctors/facilities the past three days. I gave each a grade.
No. 1: The bone doctor. This is what Phuong called him. He works at a hospital in the morning, and at his house in the afternoon. We visited his house. There was no wait time. He checked out my x-rays, said nothing was broken, gave me a needle in my butt and sent me home. He said it would take a few days before I would feel OK. Very business-like. Grade: B- Solid painkiller injection, but needed something strong to take with me.
No. 2: Dong Nai International Hospital emergency room. The pain was a little bit overwhelming on Saturday, so we went to the ER. I got x-rayed for the third time -- I'm becoming Johnny Nucleo or Radioactive Man. I also got a sonogram, and the nurse found my gall stones again. She was real excited about the gall stones, but nothing else was amiss. I got another butt shot, which really helps with the pain, but then I got a prescription for a really weak pain-killer to treat my really strong pain. But that seems to be a Vietnamese thing. The local medical community endorses pain over pain-killers. Grade: B ... Very thorough. Nice nurses and doctors, but weak pain-killer prescription.
No. 3: The electric doctor. I don't know what else to call him. He put electrodes on my back that shot electric into my body and stimulated my back muscles into spastic movements. Actually, I had this treatment a long time ago in the USA for a leg contusion. There was also some kind of needles or wire brush that rubbed and poked my back for about 10 minutes. Both procedures were very uncomfortable, but son of a gun, my back has felt much better since. And this doctor gave me some painkiller made in the USA and some pills to try to dry up the mucus in my chest. I plan to visit this guy one more time, then visit my employer to discuss my return to teaching. Grade B+ ... A little wacky, to be sure, but electric stimulation really helped my ailing back, and the painkillers weren't bad.
I got a text from work on Sunday asking if I was returning Monday. A little too soon given my condition. And besides, the kids classes play rough. I'll return when I'm able. I hate to miss class, but I'll be back in a short time.
My wife Phuong has been heroic throughout this process. She's given me massages, rubbed weird Chinese oil on my back, found some bear bladder juice for me to drink, and picked up my share of the chores. And she's still battling stomach issues. We're both on the mend, though, and we'll get through this pesky patch.
I want to thank everyone who congratulated Phuong and I on our wedding, and I also want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement after my moto-bike accident. The White Monkey can be a cynical schmuck, but I sincerely value my family and the friendships I've made over the years. Again, thank you for your kind words and support.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Married and medical issues
Phuong and I finally got our marriage license. The ceremony at the courthouse was as romantic as paying a traffic fine, and the woman who "officiated" over our paper signing ceremony in a 6 X 8 room with no fan or air conditioner asked how we met, if we were happy, blah, blah, blah. She was nice enough, though. After the ceremony, I went to work. We planned a family celebration the following Sunday, but Phuong got sick right before our party and we spent much of the night in a local emergency room. The next day Phuong and her mom went to Ho Chi Minh City to deal with the stomach virus and make sure the baby was OK. Monday was a 15-hour day of travel and waiting and hospitals for Phuong and her wonderful mom. Phuong is still queasy but the baby seems to be doing fine.
Not to be outdone, on Tuesday I crashed my bike returning from the supermarket and got pretty screwed up. The accident wasn't my fault, but who cares. A car went straight across my lane and cut me off, I swerved to avoid the car and then wiped out to avoid some chucklehead pushing a cart loaded with trash and stuff. The pusher was sort of hidden behind the car, and he was in the street going in the wrong direction. If I hit him, I'm sure he would have tried to fleece me for some money. I hit the ground hard. Thank god I had my helmet on because I felt the side of the helmet smack the concrete with a good deal of force. In addition to the usual road rash on my arm and knee, my back and ankle also slammed the concrete. The staff at Amy Massage (a legit massage place) was awesome. They got my bike off the road, put me in a chair, gave me a water and cleaned up my scrapes. A good Samaritan also stopped to assist. The Vietnamese are so cool sometimes, especially when you really need help.
I got X-rays of my back and ankle and took them to a local doctor. I went with Phuong and her dad, who's also very cool. Anyway, the guy took an X-ray of the wrong side of my back, so we went to another place for another set of X-rays. I was screaming like a little girl because the pain in my right shoulder blade was the worst pain I've ever experienced. And that's saying something because the White Monkey has led a life of pain. My ankle has a super tiny fracture that the doctor shrugged off, and the X-rays of my back were negative, if you can believe that. I can't, because the pain is still unbearable today. I swear I cracked a rib or two, but the doctor said no. I guess a lifetime of milkshakes has given me some strong bones. I can't really walk, though, and it's because of my back, not ankle. Time heals all wounds, I guess.
I can't teach at the moment, which is a real bummer. I was getting into a decent rhythm with most of my classes -- even the little kids. But I'm sure I'll return soon enough.
My injuries also ended my tennis, but that's fine because I wasn't fitting in.
And of course, I love Phuong with all my heart.
Not to be outdone, on Tuesday I crashed my bike returning from the supermarket and got pretty screwed up. The accident wasn't my fault, but who cares. A car went straight across my lane and cut me off, I swerved to avoid the car and then wiped out to avoid some chucklehead pushing a cart loaded with trash and stuff. The pusher was sort of hidden behind the car, and he was in the street going in the wrong direction. If I hit him, I'm sure he would have tried to fleece me for some money. I hit the ground hard. Thank god I had my helmet on because I felt the side of the helmet smack the concrete with a good deal of force. In addition to the usual road rash on my arm and knee, my back and ankle also slammed the concrete. The staff at Amy Massage (a legit massage place) was awesome. They got my bike off the road, put me in a chair, gave me a water and cleaned up my scrapes. A good Samaritan also stopped to assist. The Vietnamese are so cool sometimes, especially when you really need help.
I got X-rays of my back and ankle and took them to a local doctor. I went with Phuong and her dad, who's also very cool. Anyway, the guy took an X-ray of the wrong side of my back, so we went to another place for another set of X-rays. I was screaming like a little girl because the pain in my right shoulder blade was the worst pain I've ever experienced. And that's saying something because the White Monkey has led a life of pain. My ankle has a super tiny fracture that the doctor shrugged off, and the X-rays of my back were negative, if you can believe that. I can't, because the pain is still unbearable today. I swear I cracked a rib or two, but the doctor said no. I guess a lifetime of milkshakes has given me some strong bones. I can't really walk, though, and it's because of my back, not ankle. Time heals all wounds, I guess.
I can't teach at the moment, which is a real bummer. I was getting into a decent rhythm with most of my classes -- even the little kids. But I'm sure I'll return soon enough.
My injuries also ended my tennis, but that's fine because I wasn't fitting in.
And of course, I love Phuong with all my heart.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
No wedding, just more waiting
I've been told this happens to the Vietnamese as well as foreigners. Officials demand paperwork in triplicate, then demand a copy of the same paperwork a few weeks later. Then they want the original. There are countless "emergencies", where the officials who demanded the paperwork are not available, so a trip to the courthouse to deliver another copy of some requested document becomes a waste of time. To make a ridiculously long story short, Phuong and I were not married on Thursday, March 10, as we expected and as the court scheduled. Some "boss" had to leave town for an "emergency" so the court wouldn't give us our marriage license. We were told to try again next week. This whole process has lasted 16 months and we're still not married. I don't understand how this benefits anyone. But, of course, I don't understand. I've also been told that the Vietnamese have a saying: Waiting is happiness. I can certainly understand how that saying came about.
Phuong and I will happily wait until next week, call the courthouse first, then hopefully get the marriage license that Phuong has already seen. I don't want to make trouble. I don't want to challenge authority. I just want to marry the woman I love. Is that so wrong?
I did tell Phuong that since we're not married yet, I can go out and make whoopie for a few more days. She says my picture has been sent to all the massage parlors and "coffee shops" in Bien Hoa with orders not to do business with the White Monkey. My options are limited. I'll have to go to Ho Chi Minh City.
Oh, when we went to the courthouse to try to get married, I rode my motorbike into the parking lot after Phuong got off. I guess there's a sign in Vietnamese that says turn off your bike and walk it to a parking space. I don't read Vietnamese so I broke the rules. Some woman took offense -- I'm not sure why -- and got in Phuong's face about it. "Why did you let that foreigner ride his bike. Where are you from? Can you read?" And she was really nasty about it, as you can tell from her intelligent line of questioning. She was jabbering Vietnamese so I didn't understand what was going on. Good thing. I would have given that woman something to read between my index and ring fingers, and I would have told her -- in a language even that moron could have understood -- where she came from and where she could go. Not that any of that would have mattered. As Phuong says, People are people. And Phuong was so nice, even to that dill weed.
Some of my kids' classes can get rambunctious, and in keeping with my week, I had a few beauties. But that's just shop talk. I'm sure students take their shirts off in classes everywhere, and put their bare, dirty, smelly feet up on their desks, and kick and throw punches at teachers. But I have halted the "What the f$#@?"... even the White Monkey has his limits. Actually, my students are very cool and a couple even get my jokes. Teaching here is OK. A lot more enjoyable than trying to get married.
Phuong and I will happily wait until next week, call the courthouse first, then hopefully get the marriage license that Phuong has already seen. I don't want to make trouble. I don't want to challenge authority. I just want to marry the woman I love. Is that so wrong?
I did tell Phuong that since we're not married yet, I can go out and make whoopie for a few more days. She says my picture has been sent to all the massage parlors and "coffee shops" in Bien Hoa with orders not to do business with the White Monkey. My options are limited. I'll have to go to Ho Chi Minh City.
Oh, when we went to the courthouse to try to get married, I rode my motorbike into the parking lot after Phuong got off. I guess there's a sign in Vietnamese that says turn off your bike and walk it to a parking space. I don't read Vietnamese so I broke the rules. Some woman took offense -- I'm not sure why -- and got in Phuong's face about it. "Why did you let that foreigner ride his bike. Where are you from? Can you read?" And she was really nasty about it, as you can tell from her intelligent line of questioning. She was jabbering Vietnamese so I didn't understand what was going on. Good thing. I would have given that woman something to read between my index and ring fingers, and I would have told her -- in a language even that moron could have understood -- where she came from and where she could go. Not that any of that would have mattered. As Phuong says, People are people. And Phuong was so nice, even to that dill weed.
Some of my kids' classes can get rambunctious, and in keeping with my week, I had a few beauties. But that's just shop talk. I'm sure students take their shirts off in classes everywhere, and put their bare, dirty, smelly feet up on their desks, and kick and throw punches at teachers. But I have halted the "What the f$#@?"... even the White Monkey has his limits. Actually, my students are very cool and a couple even get my jokes. Teaching here is OK. A lot more enjoyable than trying to get married.
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