H1N1

There's nothing like being locked in an empty white room for four days to make you resent some things about Thailand. For one, being a falang is either the best or the worst thing that ever happened to you. You are treated differently, cautiously and with more stares than a Thai person would get. Another, the fact that everything in Thailand takes 458459406804968 times as long to get done as it would in Canada. Also, because Nakhon Phanom is one of the less wealthy provinces in Thailand, the health care system is less than meteocre. Finally, sometimes [and by sometimes I mean quite frequently] common sense seems to slip the minds of most Thai people. I seem to forget these aspects of Thai culture as life goes on in a normal matter; every once in a while, something happens that is a kick in the ass and a slap in the face, all at the same time.

Two Wednesdays ago [June 17th] I went down to Bangkok with Suzanne to drop her off at the airport and send her home. She left to board early morning on Thursday and for the rest of the day, other than wallowing in self pity, I went shopping in Bangkok with my friend Mason and was on a bus back to Nakhon Phanom by nightfall.
This past Wednesday [June 24th] I started to get a head cold - runny nose, sneezing etc. By Thursday morning my host mother was waking me up to take me to the hospital. She was worried that since I had been to Bangkok recently, that I had come in contact with the "swine flu" that has recently made an invasion in Thailand's capital city. We were asked to come back later in the evening when there were less people at the hospital, and in the meantime I had to wear a mask while at home.

First of all, wearing a mask is not a fun thing to do, and secondly, it's even worse in a country with a climate like Thailand's. It gets hard to breath, the air inside the mask condenses and you're left sweating underneath the blue cloth, trying to breath normally. Not fun, at all.

Thursday evening we returned to the hospital and I was poked and prodded with a distance and look of distaste only a martian or harmful bacteria would get. I only ever came within distance of nurses dressed in suits - complete with: [count them] 1-2-3-4 masks, goggles, a clear face shield, black wellingtons, 2 layers of gloves, hair caps and two layers of green suits over top of their normal scrubs. They stuck things up my nose, in my ears and jammed needles into my arms without the comforting, delicate touch of a Canadian nurse. A man pushed me around roughly and prodded me in front of an X-ray while tears silently rolled down my cheeks. The whole situation was rediculous - I didn't have a temperature, sore throat, sore limbs, headache or a cough. I had been out of Bangkok for more than 6 days before I showed signs of a cold and I felt fine. When the tests and a lot of waiting was finished, I was taken in a wheelchair to the white room. I insisted on walking but they worried I was too tired to walk. I wanted to give my mom the wheelchair and I would push her to my room. She needed to sit down more than I did.

The room was empty, with white tiled walls that were rusty and grimey - the look only a rarely used room would have. There were no comforts of home, only a bed, two trash cans and a metal night side table. The bathroom reminded me of a horror movie - I clearly was not in one of the best rooms. I was left there, with the notion that in an hour the doctor would come see me and then I could go home. My mother was not allowed to stay in the room with me.

An hour passed, a nurse came and went and still I was not allowed to go home. Finally, after frequent and frantic phone calls from all three of my host families, I understood I had to stay there, for 48 hours while they waited for my blood result to come back. I had nothing to do, was not allowed visitors and was left in the room with only a simple fan and a view of the parking lot to keep me company. The 48 hours came and went and I wondered why I wasn't allowed to go home yet - they told me they had to send the bloodwork to another province and it hadn't come back yet. So I sat and waited, finished the book I was reading and tried to entertain myself by sleeping or phoning the few exchange students left in Thailand. I talked to my family in Canada a lot, which helped, but when they were sleeping and it was the middle of the day, I sat in boredom - crying a lot and attempting to sleep as much as I could.

Finally, Saturday night I got ahold of my host sister and asked her to bring me some things from home - another book, postcards to write, my journal and my ipod. They kept me sane the last day.

This morning I was let out, being told I just had a normal cold and it would go away soon. I could have told them that 4 days earlier before they put me in isolation. It was not a good weekend, I wished to go back to Canada if it meant I could leave - the nurses made me afraid and paranoid every time my throat was sore or I started to cough. I never did spike a temperature, but I started to believe I was doomed with a flu that has killed many. I missed Suzanne, I knew if she hadn't gone home yet she would sit outside my window and keep me company, bring me my favourite food and things to do, and talk to me on the phone for hours on end. I miss my friend.

Other than all the bad things, there was some good - my host families brought me snacks everyday, I got phone calls from my host moms every few hours to see if I needed anything, and Tony offered to bring me books if I ran out.

The trucks that drive through the streets blaring news broadcasts have a new piece of information to share "Be Careful... It's Here!"

"There is no remedy for love, but to love more" - Henry Thoreau