Watching videos on youtube about conversations with Buddhist nuns still leaves me questioning, why are phiksuni referred to as Buddhist nuns in the west??? With 311 precepts, they cannot possibly fall under the catagory of "nun".
Be that as it may, today I will write about the beginnings for me. It was early July 2008. I had used up all the money I had, trying to find work without success. Lucky for me, I had friends at an elephant camp who gave me shelter until the tides changed. As was the custom, boozing always started once the elephants were put away, or while they were out grazing with their mahouts sitting on their backs. This usually started around 4:30 pm. After having spent a few days at the camp, the owner of the camp decided that a 2nd cage was needed around the tiger enclosure. So after work, beer in hand, all the mahouts gathered to help in this endeavour. Just before dark the mosquitos got so vicious that I was forced to retire. They only attacked my legs and feet and I was itching until well into the night.
In the morning I awoke with high fever and a swollen leg that was the same circumference as my thigh.
It didn't hurt that much, but I couldn't help but wonder what misfortune struck this time. Friends gave me antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication, but no matter what I took, that swelling would not go down.
Even the old malay treatment of wrapping the leg in tamerind paste to draw out swelling, did nothing to improve my condition. Worse still, within a matter of days I was unable to walk and had clear fluid seeping out of my foot. With no money in hand, how was I to seek medical attention?
Eventually I asked the manager of the camp for permission to stay on. Permission was granted on the condition that I seek medical help. At that point there was no longer any denying the fact that I had approx. 400 baht to my name. The manager in his kindness than took it upon himself to bring me to a clinic. The leg looked terrible! Walking was becoming increasingly difficult and painful. The clinics refused to accept my case, saying that this was serious and that I needed hospital care.
Me and the manager ended up at Tamasat University Hospital in the Rangsit area. After about an hour's wait, we were quite bluntly informed that I would have to be admitted. And so it was that I was admitted on Sunday morning. No food or water and a few blood samples and other checks were the norm of that day. At 7:30 pm I was wheeled into the operating theatre and put under. This being a Sunday, meant that my condition was much more serious than anyone realized. The doctors generally have Sundays off.
When I awoke, groggy from the anestethic, I only saw bandages all the way up to my knees, but I was soon to find out that most of the flesh and skin on my foot had been removed, as well as a good portion of the inside of my thigh. I was still too groggy to fully understand what had happened, but that would change the next morning, when the interns came to clean the wound!! Talk about pain!!! Even the morphine injection did nothing to help the pain of having the wounds cleaned! I was fortunate in that the interns treated me very well and tried as best they could to keep me out of pain. In fact, eventually I became friends with many of them and started joking whenever they came into my ward. I was trying to keep my sense of humour, however difficult this was. I didn't want anyone to know the suffering in my heart and mind.
When I finally found out the truth about what happened, I kept asking myself, how is it that I'm still alive??
Deep down I no longer had the desire to live. Everything in life that I had ever done, had been ridiculed and put down. Promises aplenty, betrayal and backstabbing seemed to be the norm of my life, until I thought to myself, "why fight anymore when things turn against me anyway"?! I was perplexed and couldn't understand why all of a sudden, there were people who were helping! Guess I never did understand that, other than that there was still unfinished business in this lifetime, that I had yet to complete.
Be that as it may, today I will write about the beginnings for me. It was early July 2008. I had used up all the money I had, trying to find work without success. Lucky for me, I had friends at an elephant camp who gave me shelter until the tides changed. As was the custom, boozing always started once the elephants were put away, or while they were out grazing with their mahouts sitting on their backs. This usually started around 4:30 pm. After having spent a few days at the camp, the owner of the camp decided that a 2nd cage was needed around the tiger enclosure. So after work, beer in hand, all the mahouts gathered to help in this endeavour. Just before dark the mosquitos got so vicious that I was forced to retire. They only attacked my legs and feet and I was itching until well into the night.
In the morning I awoke with high fever and a swollen leg that was the same circumference as my thigh.
It didn't hurt that much, but I couldn't help but wonder what misfortune struck this time. Friends gave me antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication, but no matter what I took, that swelling would not go down.
Even the old malay treatment of wrapping the leg in tamerind paste to draw out swelling, did nothing to improve my condition. Worse still, within a matter of days I was unable to walk and had clear fluid seeping out of my foot. With no money in hand, how was I to seek medical attention?
Eventually I asked the manager of the camp for permission to stay on. Permission was granted on the condition that I seek medical help. At that point there was no longer any denying the fact that I had approx. 400 baht to my name. The manager in his kindness than took it upon himself to bring me to a clinic. The leg looked terrible! Walking was becoming increasingly difficult and painful. The clinics refused to accept my case, saying that this was serious and that I needed hospital care.
Me and the manager ended up at Tamasat University Hospital in the Rangsit area. After about an hour's wait, we were quite bluntly informed that I would have to be admitted. And so it was that I was admitted on Sunday morning. No food or water and a few blood samples and other checks were the norm of that day. At 7:30 pm I was wheeled into the operating theatre and put under. This being a Sunday, meant that my condition was much more serious than anyone realized. The doctors generally have Sundays off.
When I awoke, groggy from the anestethic, I only saw bandages all the way up to my knees, but I was soon to find out that most of the flesh and skin on my foot had been removed, as well as a good portion of the inside of my thigh. I was still too groggy to fully understand what had happened, but that would change the next morning, when the interns came to clean the wound!! Talk about pain!!! Even the morphine injection did nothing to help the pain of having the wounds cleaned! I was fortunate in that the interns treated me very well and tried as best they could to keep me out of pain. In fact, eventually I became friends with many of them and started joking whenever they came into my ward. I was trying to keep my sense of humour, however difficult this was. I didn't want anyone to know the suffering in my heart and mind.
When I finally found out the truth about what happened, I kept asking myself, how is it that I'm still alive??
Deep down I no longer had the desire to live. Everything in life that I had ever done, had been ridiculed and put down. Promises aplenty, betrayal and backstabbing seemed to be the norm of my life, until I thought to myself, "why fight anymore when things turn against me anyway"?! I was perplexed and couldn't understand why all of a sudden, there were people who were helping! Guess I never did understand that, other than that there was still unfinished business in this lifetime, that I had yet to complete.
No comments:
Post a Comment