POSTCARD#352: Bangkok: This is the addendum. Additional material not included in the previous post will appear here. Some have said that the last post ended inconclusively, leaving more questions than answers,
So let’s rethink that, shall we?
Keep it simple.
You could associate the jolt of electric charge with all kinds of things, but the patient (me) had suffered a small stroke. Nobody I know knows what a small stroke means, the scale of it. A sudden bolt of energy in the chest sounds like that could be it.
My wife Jiab calls out as I’m carrying bags to the car… “Hey you can walk so well now, congratulations!”… and I can’t remember the context of what she is talking about. For the first time I begin to see the larger reality of being elderly and disabled; then the reality of my condition before all this came, unlikely to go away or become something else.
Post Herpetic Neuralgia – certain light and sound frequencies that are acceptable for most people but intolerable for me.
So when we decided to take the show on the road, so to speak, there were a few precautions; we had the tint colour of the car windows darkened quite a bit. Now it’s like a car wearing sunglasses, very cool and relaxing. For stepping out of the car, we were less prepared. I expected it to be a bit of a shock with all the arbitrary light frequencies entering through the eye and shrill sounds enter through the ear. But not the scale of the headache and the circumstances of its arrival. We have to accept these realities in our effort to slowly create a practical defense system against the invasion of light and sound, and the internal systems that are activated as best we can.
We broke the journey at Samut Sakarn after 4 hours hard driving. It had not been easy with all these road construction obstacles. Park the car get your things and suddenly, I’m out there, exposed in high resolution Photoshop enhancement. I’m really a nocturnal owl-like creature, sheltering behind a black umbrella, squinting in the daylight; a quiet presence behind sunglasses contemplating vibhava tanha, (Buddhist term for the desire to not exist)… I really don’t want to be here.
I feel Jiab’s small hand take mine and pull me towards the small Inthanin.com coffee shop in a wooden shack with window and overhang roof. Up the step and fold away the umbrella. Then into this dark environment with noisy AC, roaring ice crushing machine and suddenly I have to block out the sound by covering my ears with hand towels. People watching us come in must have been puzzled by what was going on. I try to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Jiab’s hand appears with an iced drink. It’s a smoothie but no ordinary smoothie. This was the first time I’d experienced the mango passion fruit smoothie. To start with, I made the same mistake I’d been making that nearly turned me off of smoothies; I opened the mouth and throat completely to take in a huge volume of the ice-cold liquid. After a moment the liquid begins to move down the gastrointestinal tract and here the headache is constant steady and intense.
No escape, no reversals, there’s just no getting away from it. I’m holding on also because of traces of the mango passion fruit flavor I can release into the pain arena as the drama of the event subsides. For quite a long time I’m hovering through pain and pleasure, long after the source of the ice-cream headache is gone. Then I’m in a smoothie heaven – all this of course with eyes closed, a small towel over the front of my head, gradually coming back into the world people normally inhabit.
This is how it happened, you could say this was episode three on the way to the beach at Hua Hin… or maybe that’s all done now.
I can’t empathize with the stroke but I certainly do with the headaches and light/sound sensitivities. I have albinism and I’ve suffered from frequent migraines my entire life. And yes, aging is a bitch (of course, my word, not yours – you are much too elegant.) Take care of yourself – you are in my thoughts.
Hi Cynthia, thanks for getting in touch. Interesting for me to have a picture of your situation. Living with sunglasses means coping with the sudden headache when the sunglasses are not there
‘Vibhava tanha? Hmm, interesting, don’t know if I’ve ever seen or heard that term. Nice story. I feel like I’m becoming more sensitive to frequencies also, especially sound…
Vibhava tanha, I’m using it as a whimsical example, senior monks would not approve. High frequency sounds like a whistle or a shrill shriek knock me out.
Feeling for you.
I wish for you more heavenly smoothies, less light and noise.
It is, indeed, a long, long road.
It is no failure to tire.