The Dead Gecko

I might have killed it myself, though I surely didn't mean to.

Last night when I entered my room I left my flip flops directly in front of the door, where I removed them (outside) lined up next to each other, side by side. This morning when I went out, they were sort of thrown on my porch, one off to the side, and lying there face up was a little dead gecko.

I felt terrible. Could it be that I crushed the little fellow without realizing it when I stepped in front of my door and took off my flip flops? Or maybe he had crawled underneath one of them and a bird came and swooped down and threw the flip flop aside and killed the gecko and left him there. I don't know why he would have left him there, but I prefer that version to what I think really happened. I think I crushed him to death.

Either way, it is a bad omen. I think I need to do some sort of ritual to appease the spirits now.

And, maybe that is why my meniere's is acting up.

I woke up this morning and felt off. It seemed like I had had enough sleep but I couldn't get out of bed. I knew it was early and my attempt yesterday to take an early morning walk was not that satisfying (too much traffic on the roads) so I saw no reason to get up before 8 a.m., when they started serving breakfast. When I did get up I felt my balance was off and I immediately took a meclizine and got back in bed, waiting for it to take effect before the vertigo got so intense that I started vomiting.

When I finally felt stable, I went to breakfast.

I was not feeling very good.

First of all, I was very disappointed that the meniere's was back. I thought that since I started taking this new drug, betahistine, it would be okay. I also thought that after my multidimensional healing yesterday, any problems I had would be gone (I was hoping for a psychic surgery on my ear). I hated the thought of spending another three weeks here and two weeks in Thailand having to deal with dizzy spells and being zombied out on meclizine. And I was flashing forward to what my life would be like if I were not able to keep this dis-ease under control.

But beyond all of that, I just felt bad. Not only was my bad ear feeling full, ringing and doing all of the things it normally does, but my good ear, felt full and kind of hurt. When I was cleaning my ear, I found a lot of wax. I have been finding a lot lately, especially in the good ear. The past few days it was yellow, but today it was a dark reddish brown.

I thought if nothing else, I needed to see a doctor and get my ears cleaned.

As is normal, at breakfast a whole assortment of Balinese came up to greet me. First was Ketut. The young guy who originally showed me my room and gave me the deal and checked me in. He is very nice and usually works in the afternoon. He asked how I was feeling, and I told him honestly.

Then came Made, my "personal assistant". He has been suffering from a cold the past few days, so we exchanged information about our ailments. He got to see a doctor last night. He offered to take me to the Ubud clinic today after he finished cleaning rooms, around 11. I thanked him and said I would let him know (I was thinking of just going on my own, since he seems to be so busy).

And then the big boss, who I learned is also named Made (I will call him big Made) stopped by. He kind of reminds me of a walrus. He has a lot of teeth that stick out of his mouth, even when it is closed, has a big belly and is very brown, and he has a lot of whiskers sticking out from his chin. I imagine if you took a walrus and dressed him up in a sarong and put a scarf on his head, he'd look like big Made.

Anyway, big Made came by and asked what I was going to do today. I told him I was planning on going to Ubud Clinic. He asked what was wrong and I told him. He didn't seem to understand really. We chatted for a bit, he continually touched me on the shoulder as we spoke, as he has done in the past. Finally he left and went over to speak to other guests.

As I was finishing my breakfast, he came back and told me Toya Clinic was better than Ubud Clinic. I asked where it was and he said right down the road. He offered to take me there. I didn't think it would matter to little Made that I went with big Made. I got up and we walked out to the street. Big Made put his arm around my shoulder. I wasn't sure if he was just helping me (I was not walking very well) or if it was just one of those male bonding gestures. Either way, it was making it harder for me to walk on the narrow path to the street.

I hopped on his motorbike and off we went.

It was nice riding on a motorbike. The traffic didn't seem that bad and there was a nice breeze as we went along. I was thinking that if I got this ear thing under control, I would rent a motorbike since it seemed like THE way to get around.

The clinic was empty and the doctor was young and spoke fairly good English. He didn't know what meniere's was, but that was okay, because if the vestibular specialist in Buenos Aires didn't have a cure, neither would this guy. He examined my ears and said there was blockage, especially on the right and my ear canals were swollen. He flushed my right ear and gave me an antibiotic. He told me no swimming for a week.

Big Made returned me to the hotel. I asked him what I owed him, thinking that the transport must come with some strings (though I was really hoping he did it just out of the kindness of his heart). To my delight, he said, "no, nothing". Was I supposed to insist? Without giving me much time to think about it, he said, "How about you pay for 3 more nights?"

I was slightly shocked, but more amused. Here I had just returned from the doctor and was not at my best, but he wanted me to pay for three more nights (I am already paid up through tonight). It wasn't a problem. I made my way to the front desk, walking like I was walking on one of those sidewalks at the fun house that move from side to side and told the clerk I was going to pay for three more nights. I kept repeating that I was already paid for tonight though. I thought it was a bit strange that big Made didn't just let me pay tomorrow for three more nights. I am hoping the accounting will all work out, but I was not in a state to really be able to check receipts (or even remember where I put the last one I got), so if nothing else, I'll end up paying for an extra night down the road.

As I went back to my room I ran into Made, and got my key from him. He saw the bag from the clinic with my medication (it was a little brown shopping bag with rope strings, kind of like what you would get if you bought handmade soaps) and said, "you went already?"

I told him big Made offered to take me.

He said, I said I would take you, after breakfast. I tried reassuring him, it was okay, I said. But I could tell he was upset. Were his feelings hurt? Did he lose out on a tip? Somehow I had committed another cultural faux pas.

To be honest though I am not that concerned about it. If little Made and big Made want to compete over who takes me to the clinic and whether I am going to a cremation or a dance performance, that is really up to them. In this particular instance, I needed to see a doctor, and I would think they could put aside any personal benefit they might achieve by helping me to see one and think instead of my health. I think, or at least I hope, that is what I would do if I were in sandals.