Nanathana Is Dead
Bad seven months? Well bad decade really. The tentacles of Thailand reach out and get you.
To put no finer point on it, bluntly Nanthana / Nang / Na is dead. No, not passed on, passed out or gone to a better place. Dead. Not alive. This transformation took some time. Her kidneys failed – an operation was necessary.
You don’t know Nanthana / Nang / Na? Maybe this link to a previous submission will help.
At first I thought it was just another scam – after all she had extracted money from me for brother's funeral only then to let slip that a funeral would have been premature if not cruel (and surely illegal even in Thailand) due to the fact that he was still alive.
Me: "You say your brother die."
Nanthana / Nang / Na: "Yes he die for three days but then wake up."
What the fxxx (WTF)!
Any way Nanthana / Nang / Na was not in this instance scamming. I paid for an operation (a lot of dosh believe me).
But as in so many things in Thailand, it was not a success. Dialysis was necessary – £100 a week.
Her daughter (Auy) and I tried to pay every week. Auy took to the game – that was never going to be a success (she is not her mother's daughter). I tried to pay but knew we could only temporarily stave off the inevitable. I took the only sane way out.
I got drunk for a month.
I was angry. How many times had I asked Nanthana / Nang / Na to find out about health insurance for her and Auy and Esso? Many. What if she had not scammed me so many times and I had paid for the operation sooner?
Such are some of the tentacles of Thailand. Don’t think too much. And if it’s really serious, DON’T THINK.
Thank god for the NHS (or rather think of those sensible, decent people of my parents generation who bought it into being). Thailand? There is the dialysis machine in the corner of the room but no money no use. And the USA? Right to bear arms, but right to adequate health care, even for gunshot wounds? Yet it together Yanks, you bring shame on all one time British colonies.
Such is life or rather death.
Nanthana / Nang / Na bequeathed me her children.
Nanthana / Nang / Na: "You only have one mum but you will always have Martin."
Nanthana / Nang / Na did not wake up after 3 days.
Auy is now 25 – probably (she is not very good at Maths – although I call it arithmetic), Esso the son (yes Nanthana / Nang / Na named him after a filling station she pulled into whilst she was with child) is 15 (possibly).
I now communicate with Auy daily – by SMS, sometimes by e-mail ([email protected] – perhaps she is her mum's daughter more than I thought) and almost daily (or at least that is the way it feels), by Weston Union. This morning, "Esso sick in hospital, moskito." Ok, time for Mr Weston Union. Maybe a scam but why take the chance?
The plan is for me to go to Thailand next year (LOS, Land of Scams) for 3 months. "We be same family, you like vather to me." Hmmmm. Auy may have a shock. WTF. We will see – but she must call me Mr Glitter.
Later, on 25 June I went shopping in Kilburn (OK, this is London-ecentric), I was outside the Egg / Earl Derby pub. A guy in wheelchair asked me for directions. He strangely knew Kilburn well. On getting home I found my wallet gone. Dips often work in pairs. But a wheelchair 'diverter'? WHT. Only in Kilburn (or Thailand if they hear about the trick). Why do I mention this? Perhaps because it is just another of life’s jovial twists.
Unconnected to that event….(because such is life)…
The next morning I got up. My right leg was not working well. OK knees have been a problem for some time now. But then stirring my coffee proved a problem. OK, the right has arm has been a problem for some time now. But drinking the coffee proved to be a problem. Dribbling. OK it's blue bus time! (Londoners will get the reference).
Ischemic stroke! WHT
Stroke – sounds kind of gentle, pleasant or something one might ask for in a Greek massage parlour.
Later I took a look at my notes – don't let the patients see their notes they will only worry. There is apparently a scale – 0 – no noticeable effects, 6 Dead. Yes it really says that. May wake up after 3 days (no it doesn't say that). Mine 4. I did not worry. Ho hum.
I can’t help but think of Thailand. If not for the NHS I might be at 6 on the scale.
Back home in my apartment (real word flat), my social life has changed – many new people are keen to meet me. One to teach me to walk another to teach me to speak (i.e. Physio and Language therapists). Many appointments. I'm (constantly) asked if I'm worried. "No", "Sure?" "YES!" (Thank you NHS). Walking is fine but then knees have been a problem for some time. Right arm not good but then OK, the right has arm has been a problem for some time. Speaking? Saying galligaskins or clairaudience may be a problem (and all s's are in fact in a problem) but I've found that reverting to an east-London working-class accent works. Clogs to clogs in one generation. Hey ho.
Life goes on (except of course for Nanthana / Nang / Na).
Anyhow, I go and make a coffee now and do some dribbling.