shameless self absorbed bitching

We interrupt this blog from paradise for a bit of shameless self absorbed bitching.

Tuesday was a long day.

Before I came here, I had been using a company out of London to have the main drug I take for my condition sent to me in the States. After processing an order, the London office would have a facility in Vanuatu, in the Pacific Islands, air mail me a bottle of one hundred tablets for $26; including shipping from Vanuatu to the wherever I happened to be.

If I went down to the corner Wal-mart for the same pills, I would have to have a current prescription on file and pay at least double that and usually three times as much.

After I got here I sent my friends in London an email asking if they shipped to Thailand. They sent me a response that they no longer shipped to Thailand because of high failure rate of shipment delivery.

So far, other than going to the hospital, I have found only one pharmacy in Pattaya that carries the one drug I have to have in order to manage my ongoing fight with this dis-ease.

I generally go through a little more than 300 tablets in a month. I haven’t had any problems getting the drug until last week. Just before leaving for Malaysia, I had gone to the pharmacy to fill up and stock up so I wouldn’t have to go right back in a week.

The last time I had been in I had tried to purchase two bottles but they only had one on hand. The clerk who helped me had spoken to the manager and they would be ordering more to keep on hand since I had become a regular customer.

When I was in just prior to leaving for Penang, they had less than a full bottle on hand. After selling me what they had, they had assured me that more of the pills would be in soon.

I have been making it a point to rely less on Random’s presence. He is not sure what his plans will be but he has been talking more and more about the possibility of marrying his Thai girlfriend and moving back to the States. This may happen as soon as March or April.

While Jonnie Black is still around and I have made a few other acquaintances, I certainly don’t have anyone else closer than 10,000 miles who I can count on as I have Random. He has been an exceptional friend and I will miss him when he leaves. It has also been very convenient with his knowledge of the area and his willingness to frequently carry me around on his motorbike, especially when the place I want to get to is not close nor on one of the baht bus circuits.

It was for this reason that on Monday I struck out alone to go to figure out my solo path to the pharmacy. The store is located near the northern edge of Pattaya, just beyond the town hall. My room is located on the south eastern side just off one of the main roads connecting Jomtien with Pattaya.

I left the apartment building and walked the odd half mile up to the main road. There, I hailed a baht bus which took me on into Pattaya down town. I usually get off at the main intersection down town and either go right to the IT Center and its stores and markets or I go to the left down toward Beach Road and Walking Street.

I stayed on the baht bus and we kept going down 1st Road which parallels Beach Road. There are bars of all sorts all over Pattaya; it is not limited to the Beach Road/Walking Street stretch. We zoomed past all sorts of beer and karaoke bars as well as stores and stands of every description.

Soon we passed the famous Alcazars Cabaret on the right, which runs stage shows through out the afternoon and evening which reportedly features some of the most convincing and beautiful katoey aka “ladyboy” drag performers in the world.

When I had climbed on to the bus it had been almost full with three young Russian tourists, the Thai girlfriend of one of the Russians, a couple of middle aged Thai women, an older European gent of indeterminate origin and me.

The bus approached the roundabout which is usually referred to as “the Dolphin” because of the large dolphin statue in the middle. The older gent and I were the only two on board. I hit one of the buzzer buttons to get the driver to pull over so I could step off. I paid the driver twenty baht (roughly 60 cents) and crossed over the street about thirty feet from the roundabout.

At the roundabout, the traffic either turns left and picks up the beginning of Beach Road, or goes around and on towards Nakula (something of a suburb of Pattaya,) or around the roundabout and north towards the town hall, my pharmacy and eventually the Sukhumvit highway which runs all the way from Bangkok down past Pattaya.

(When I was in Bangkok with Jules in 2005 we stayed not very far off of Sukhumvit).

I knew that the baht bus would either be headed back down Beach Road and eventually back to Jomtien or on to Nakula.

I felt good as I walked down toward my pharmacy, roughly a mile beyond the Dolphin roundabout. Naturally, it was another day in paradise. There was a pleasant breeze and with the sun out it felt around 78 to 80 degrees outside.

I politely waved off a couple of offers by motorcycle taxis and soon was walking past the Pattaya town hall and into the parking lot of the big Fascino Pharmacy, across the boulevard from the Tesco department store.

I looked around for the clerk who had helped me most of the times I had come in to the store but she was no where to be seen. I walked up to the counter and asked for the pills that I needed and handed the girl behind the counter a receipt from my last visit, just to make things easier.

The store has one main counter with a selection of all available pills either in the display case under the counter or on the shelves against the wall behind the counter.

In the States I could not buy the pills I need with out a bona fide prescription from a saw bones. As far as I have experienced there are not many medicines that require a prescription in Thailand. I have acquaintances here that have had no problem buying anti-depressants and sleeping pills that would require a ‘script in the States.

I think the few drugs not available easily are those that one could see there being a reasonable concern for abuse such as those containing morphine and some of the other drugs which can be used recreationally.

After I handed the clerk the receipt, she checked the back shelf where these pills are usually kept. Not finding any, she turned back to me and said she would check the stock room. A few minutes later she came back with another girl who explained that they were out but was expecting a shipment that afternoon. I asked them to call me when it came in as I was in need. At that time I had roughly a half dozen pills left. Just enough to get me through the day and have enough pills for two doses on Tuesday.

I left the pharmacy and walked back down to the Dolphin. The road is one way from the intersection I usually get off at back in southern Pattaya all the way to the Dolphin. My options for getting back to my room were to hire a motorcycle taxi or walk down to Beach Road and follow it back.

Since I usually take the baht bus more than I take taxis, I really wasn’t sure what a fair price would be if I took a motorcycle taxi back to my room. While I have had some good taxi drivers who were reasonable about their prices, any farang who has stayed here more than a day can tell you always get the price up front. If you don’t agree on terms before you take the ride you may end up being expected to pay 200 baht for what should only be a 40 baht fare.

I was still feeling good so I crossed over at the Dolphin and walked on down to Beach Road. I’m guessing it was a good five or more miles from the Dolphin all the way down Beach Road and back up to the main intersection where I would be able to catch a baht bus back to the road my apartment building is on.

Throughout my whole life I have never had a problem getting around on foot, at least before this disease started fucking with me.

My earliest memories are from when I must have been 3 or 4 out in the Michigan countryside. I clearly remember walking all over the 10 acre farm we had.

When I was 5 we moved next door to my cousins. J., the cousin I've always considered my older brother and I would make "expeditions" through out the sprawling "back 40" as we used to call it. Always on guard for the "Gully-monster"; one of J.'s older brothers who occassionally delighted in trying to scare us.

I only played a couple of seasons of football before taking on a job instead of after school sports. Still, J. and I would run the few miles back and forth to the old cemetary almost every day during the summer. Until I got my license I would usually walk or ride bike the few miles to work after school.

When I was a sailor one of my assignments was to a Marine detachment in the middle of the Texas desert on an Army base. I was able to shut up the Jarheads and Army dogs who swore that Navy men couldn’t hack their morning PT sessions. Just for fun we also took 10 mile runs at least once or twice a week to push us a little more than the usual 5 mile morning run.

I have also gone through situations due to piece of shit (p.o.s.) vehicles that necessitated walking 10 or more miles or peddling a bicycle 40 miles back and forth to work for a week because the afore mentioned p.o.s. car at the time was dead.

I’ve always taken what some might say was a perverse pride in persevering through such silly situations. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I still get so frustrated when this body doesn’t cooperate like I think it should. Sometimes I wonder if the damn dis-ease is just some more enforced humility. It wouldn't surprise me.

I was feeling OK as I made my way down Beach Road, though it still seemed harder than I think it should have. Soon I was dodging the other tourists and the vendors. I walked past the mid afternoon crowds and the very first shift of bar girls who were only now beginning to appear.

I made good time, stopping at a 7-11 for some bottled water about half way to the turn at the entrance to Walking Street. I caught the baht bus back to my road and walked the half mile down to my building trying to ignore thoughts of taking a nap.

I stopped in at the Family Mart and bought a small package of generic Oreos before reaching the apartment. After I got to my room, I took another dose of pills and skipped the nap to try and finish some articles I was trying to get posted to the blog.

Random’s pounding on my door woke me up about an hour or so later. He didn’t have any urgent reason to pound on the door, that’s just the way he is. He also likes to jump his 6 foot 2, 225 pound form up and down a few times while riding the elevator, just to make sure the elevator is working properly.

He and his Thai girlfriend S. had been out and about. S. is a very kind and sweet person who worries about me far too much. She had asked Random to check on me. I told him about the situation with the pills. He invited me down to his room for supper with him and S.

Random and S. had gone shopping and had picked up a large appliance that was half hot plate half George Foreman Grill. They had also picked up some pasta noodles and some regional sausage links and made rigatoni after a fashion. The food was good and after we ate we watched the cheesie sequel to Triple X on cable. After that I came back up to my room to work on the blog. I had four pills left and the pharmacy hadn’t called.

The next morning, Tuesday, I tried to sleep as long as I could. I got up around 8:30 and meditated. I was going to wait until I knew I could go and pick up the meds before taking what I had left.

Fortunately I didn’t have any of the really bad lock up spells or episodes of what Random has named “floor swimming”. What Random calls “floor swimming” is when my muscles, particularly in my neck, face and back are not just slow or clumsy, but twisting in such a way as to bring maximum pain with out taking me to a point where I pass out. Some of you reading this have seen me go through this and know it is not a pretty sight.

The best way I can describe it is to imagine that you are in the clutches of an invisible giant, He has one hand around your head and one hand around your torso and he is twisting your head and torso in counter directions and at the same time squeezing. It can become so intense that it feels like your head is being literally twisted off of your neck like the top off of a beer bottle.

Usually, just for extra laughs, the pressure on my back is such that I can’t stand up. There is no position that makes much difference, though I usually end up face down on the floor, trying to ride it out with a handkerchief or a towel in my mouth to bite down on. So far I have always had enough warning before this happens to be in a safe place, preferably alone, before this starts.

I did go through a mild one in the Chicago airport on the way over here. Random was with me so I didn’t need to worry about the homeland security rent-a-cops goose-stepping up and carting me off.

As I said, I didn’t have to go through that, but the usual slowness, clumsiness and sporadic cramping of foot, back or hand and the loss of intelligible speech was plenty of fun.

I still hadn’t heard from the pharmacy and didn’t think if I called them I would be understood. Random and S. came and checked on me after lunch. The lovely and gracious S. called the pharmacy for me. They had just gotten the pills in around lunch.

I gave Random my credit card and he and S. zipped out and back and I had my meds in short order. I also had S. explain to them my monthly use levels and they promised her they understood better now and would be maintaining extra stock so I need not run out again.

I felt better after taking my second dose once Random and S had brought me the new meds. Today I feel much better and actually got out and took a walk.

The moral of the story is that despite going through a rough day, everything worked out and the situation has been addressed so that it shouldn’t happen again.

I know that things always work out and I refuse to let so called problems or fears stop me from living my life as independently as possible and in a manner of my own choosing.

I am not completely insensitive to the worries and concerns of family and friends who wouldn’t feel very much more at ease if I was having these adventures without the potential complications of my health.

In the past I usually would choose to not mention things like the episode recorded here. My reasoning being that I got through it, and if I told someone (like my mother) about it, there wouldn’t be anything she could have done or do about it except worry more.

I guess I am doing things a bit different so that anyone who is concerned about me will know that I am not hiding anything or suffering in silence to spare them worry.

I feel exceptionally fortunate to have so many good, kind and loving people care about me. I can’t stop you from worrying, but I want you to know that even when things aren’t as nice as I’d like I’m doing what I want to do and living on my own terms, as inadvisable, unreasonable or insane as anyone may think.

I do miss each of you terribly. Having said that, I am happier doing what I am doing now than I think I could ever be if I had stayed in the States.

Some people want to blame karma, God, Lucifer, your higher Self or the Great Pumpkin for the pains and problems that come along. I like to call life's pains and problems evolutionary choices. I don’t think it’s so much a choice of what you face as it is of how you face it.

Despite such a long, tedious and decidedly clumsy way to say it, I hope you take my meaning.

‘Nuff said.