Let’s Peer Into the Saga

Here’s the beginning of Chapter 8, Stem Cell Treatments in Thailand.

My plane landed in Bangkok where I changed airline and flew north to Chiang Mai. It was now about midnight. When I walked out from the security and customs areas, there was a one-man welcoming crowd, a smiling man holding a sign with my name on it. Dr. Lodi [my AZ cancer doctor] had arranged for him to drive me to my new home.

“Jen-ee-FER?”

“Yes.” Despite my fatigue, I felt a laugh gurgling in me at the way he said my name – not how I usually reacted when called Jennifer. In my world thus far, nobody called me “Jennifer” unless they were mad at me. But this was something in another world. I started adapting at that moment: he’s not upset with me, my plane wasn’t late, he speaks Thai.

In fact, he was my new landlord and I’ll call him Anurak. In warm, humid darkness, we drove for about 45 minutes through Chiang Mai and out northwards. I couldn’t see much of the surroundings and my fatigue was making me nod off a bit but Anurak was good-humored and didn’t seem to mind. With his English limited and my Thai non-existent, we sat in comfortable silence. We drove off the main road on to a winding side road and through a village, then on to a smaller side road with no paving. We passed an area more brightly lit with a gateway and a guard on duty.

“Tao Garden,” said Anurak, pointing. “You walk there.”

A few yards further, left turn into a stony dirt pathway barely wide enough for a car, and there was my bungalow. Anurak carried my two suitcases and unlocked the door and I stumbled in, ready for bed. Anurak gave me the door key and left. He lived at the other end of the pathway, as I learned later, past a series of bungalows that he owned and rented out. Dr. Lodi had arranged for me to rent the one closest to Tao Garden. They were all part of the village called Doi Saket that surrounded Tao Garden. My bungalow had two rooms and a bathroom. No kitchen. Two fans but no air conditioner. A single bed. I quickly got ready to use it,

. . .

When I woke in the morning, the birds were vigorous and noisy. “You alright? You alright?” “Surreal! Surreal!” “It’s Macau twit” “No, twit, it’s Cacao!” “Cheap, cheap, cheap.” Sunbeams filled the little bedroom and looking out the window, I noticed a lake or pond across the dirt road.

, , ,

My first Thai breakfast was fried Morning Glory (there were no raw greens so I compromised by at least having cooked ones), and oatmeal with black sesame seeds and hot soy milk. I put these items on a tray on the walker seat and found a vacant chair at one of the crowded round tables. I added my own sea salt and some brown sugar (not good for cancer) to the oatmeal and started munching. Everybody was talking at once and I heard German and French as well as a bit of English.

“You must have just arrived,” said a woman on my right.

I nodded, returning her smile through the oatmeal.

“I’m Elizabeth,” she offered. She was about 40 with blond hair and plump pink cheeks. I could hear that she spoke German but her English was good.

“Jenny.” I said. “Got here late last night.”

“Well, I suppose you weren’t up for Chee Gong then!”

“Were you?” I said, wondering what it was.

“Oh no, I teach classes here.” The woman on her right claimed her attention then and they switched to German. Soon they left but Elizabeth patted my shoulder and said, ”See you at lunch time.”

I was good and had no coffee; instead I tried the ginger tea.

Many people had left to begin their day now and I could see the surrounding structures better. There were 16 round tables each seating 7. The dining room was situated in a lake and all exits were bridges.

. . .

Leaving half the ginger tea, I pushed the walker over a different bridge than the one I had entered on and found it led to a Juice Bar, also with no walls except the back one behind the counter. There were some couches and easy chairs with small wicker tables and two young women behind the counter. The chunky woman was preparing coffees for the group on one of the couches who seemed to be speaking Russian.

I smiled at the slim woman and looked at the sign propped on the counter giving the ingredients of a “Sunshine Cheer”. It looked similar to the Oasis green juice [AZ cancer clinic made daily green juice for all patients] so I asked for one.

“Yeh. You sit down. We bring for you,” said the slim woman, exuding competence and friendliness.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling suddenly more at home. I counted out the right colorful money and placed it on the counter. Then I stationed the walker out of people’s way and leaned back on the fat cushions of a wicker love seat. Already the day was warm and I noticed two big standing fans that would no doubt be used before long.

. . .

… a young nurse approached me, wearing white cap, white shoes and white stockings to complete her white uniform.

“You are Jen-ee-FER?”

“Yes.”

“The doctor wait for you.”

I squinted up at her, the bright light shining on her long black hair and in my eyes. She was like a perfectly designed nurse-doll, beautiful to look at, compact and dainty. By comparison I felt oversized.

“Dr. Lodi is still in America,” I said.

Dr. Palo wait for you.”

OK. So the clinic had several doctors. It was nice that this doctor knew I’d arrived.

. . .

“Yes, come in,” came a rich-sounding baritone.

I pushed the walker through and met the gaze of a muscular young black man seated at the desk. He had looked away from his computer monitor to see who was entering and our eyes remained locked for a few moments. I felt suddenly and completely at home and glad I was there and at the same time, suddenly exposed. His perceptive gaze saw instantly through my surface to me, myself. He silently said hello to me on a spirit level and I returned the hello. Then we both remembered our manners and I smiled and he got up to greet me.

“Welcome to Tao Garden, Jennifer.”

He pulled one of the chairs away from my side of his desk and gestured that I should sit.

“Thanks,” I said, in something of a daze.   . . .

______________

Dr. Lodi was the Director of this clinic and Dr. Palo (not his real name) was Dr. Lodi’s second-in-command. Dr. Lodi resigned while I was there, having been unable to persuade the Tao Garden kitchen to provide a raw vegan menu, and Dr. Palo took his place. He was from Zambia and got his medical training in America, where he also worked as an oncologist for ten years. He is now the Medical Director of Lusaka General Hospital in Zambia. I was privileged to be in his care for four months.