Hospital Visit (Graphic......sort of)

The past four days have been horrible. I have been stuck in my hotel with GI ailments. Every 15 minutes I have to get up and go to the bathroom, where I experience yellow and occasional bloody diarrhea. I haven’t had an appetite in the past three days; the only thing I have had is Gatorade and some peanuts. We try to go out to the mall and eat but I feel too rough to stay out long, much less eat anything.

I have been worried, since I have had mild diarrhea pretty much on and off since our second week in Thailand. And these past three days it has gotten pretty bad. I think it might just be a flare up from my Ulcerative Colitis, a chronic disease I was diagnosed with in 2005 that occasionally wreaks havoc on my large intestine. I also think that it might be a nasty mix of a Colitis flare up and food poisoning, which would explain the yellow diarrhea (Giardiasis?) All I know is that it isn’t going away, no matter how much rest and meds I take.

This morning was enough. I awoke to an upset stomach. I sat up in bed for a while, with Elisabeth half asleep next to me. I woke her up because I felt so horrible and I just wanted to talk to her. Then I started throwing up. I yelled at her to go get a taxi to take me to the hospital.

She ran down stairs to the lobby of our hotel, and then returned with two or three Thai men saying that they had a taxi waiting down stairs for me. Feeling a bit better after my up-chuck session, I made my way down to the taxi and to the nearest hospital, Phayathai Hospital.

While in the States researching Thailand, I remember reading about how good the medical situation was supposed to be over here in Thailand. But this experience at Phayathai Hospital was about to make me think otherwise.

When we pulled up to the hospital we waited about 10 minutes until a woman came out who spoke relatively good English. She was the hospital administrator, and she escorted Elisabeth and I into what seemed like a small emergency room area. The room was pretty much empty of patients except for a man in a smaller adjacent room who seemed to be having chest pains. They were wheeling in a large machine into the room to do who-knows-what to him.

Sitting on a rickety old orange hospital chair, I answered numerous medical questions asked by the hospital administrator. I told her about my Ulcerative Colitis, which she had never heard of, and when I told her that I had diarrhea for over 2 weeks, she seemed shocked. After I answered her questions she walked over and started talking to two nurses. Elisabeth turned on her laptop and played Pirates of the Caribbean for both of us to watch.

A few minutes later the two nurses came up and started explaining to me (in very broken English) that they were going to need a fecal sample. I said no problem, nervously eyeing the long q-tips in one of the nurse’s hands. They declined the old, stiff hospital chair so I could lie down on my side. “Interesting way to get a fecal sample” I thought to myself, as the nurse made several failed attempts to get a proper sample.

Next thing I know the nurse was telling me (through hand gestures and broken English) that she was going to get a sample with her fingernail. She got aggravated when I pulled my pants up and was asking her again what she was doing. She kept saying “roll over! I need sample!” while pointing at her (non-gloved) finger. Feeling like I was negotiating with a robber and trying not to get shot, I kept telling the two nurses that they could send me into the bathroom with the proper equipment and I could get them the sample they needed. They finally gave me a cup and I headed quickly to the bathroom.

After this terrifying encounter, the hospital administrator escorted Elisabeth and I into a waiting room, and said that the GI specialist would soon examine my sample and be able to talk with me.

After waiting around a bit, the administrator escorted us into a room where the GI specialist was waiting. The specialist was an early 40’s Thai woman, and I soon found out that she lacked a sense of humor all together. She informed me that all of my tests came up fine, and that she couldn’t find anything wrong. This is exactly what I was worried about. I had been hoping the entire time that they would find something that would have a simple fix, but this has led me to believe that my Ulcerative Colitis is flaring up big time.

The GI specialist then recommended a colonoscopy. This is a procedure where they stick about 3 feet of tubing with a camera at the end up your backside. This is fine by me, since I have already had this done in America once and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be, since they put you under for it.

Unfortunately the Hospital administrator said, “Colonoscopies are a bit different in Thailand.” What she meant was that they don’t put you under for it. Yes, you are wide AWAKE through the whole procedure. This is the moment when I knew that my idea of living and teaching English in Thailand for a year was about to fizzle out and die. After refusing the colonoscopy, the specialist did give me loads of medication, which I was determined to get better with.

Being an American, I was fearful of the medical bill I was about to receive upon leaving the hospital. The total bill was only $75 (2500 Baht). In the United States, any emergency room visit is $200-$300 easily. Aghhh what a day……..