My cold was pretty bad last night and I was afraid it was going into my lungs. I was wheezing and starting to cough. I took more of the cold medicine I got in Barcelona and tried going to sleep early after having a few cups of ginger, lemon and honey tea at Cafe Wayan, but I couldn't sleep well. I didn't want to sleep with the fan because that is how I think I caught the cold, so I put the air-con on instead and got under the covers. I figured as long as air wasn't blowing on me it was not bad. But still I couldn't sleep. When I turned the air-con off I was too hot.
So basically I spent a restless night and as the roosters started crowing and the doves started cooing, signaling the arrival of morning, I turned in my bed and had the feeling of the beginning of a vertigo attack. At first I denied it. It must have been because I was tired and didn't get a good night sleep, but as I lay there, it was clear, the spinning was starting.
So I got up and fished around for my stash of meclizine for these occasions and popped a pill and got back in bed to observe the race between the vertigo and the meclizine.
This time the vertigo won. I was too late.
I made my way to the bathroom just in time to begin a few bouts of the dry heaves (fortunately, the only thing I had in my stomach was the water I used to swallow the pill). And then I had to sit on the bathroom floor waiting for the meclizine to finally kick in.
I think what aggravated it this time was this head cold. If meneire's is caused by a fluid build-up in the inner ear, anything that affects fluid levels, such as a head cold, would most likely bring on an attack.
I'm thinking about looking at the next level of treatment, which involves an injection into my inner ear which would kill off the cells that regulate balance. This would be with the same doctor who removed my tonsils and soft palate and didn't really go over the full pros and cons with me, so first, I need to do my research, but I really don't want to live with the constant threat of puking my guts up.
And so, when I finally got out of bed, a little past 8, I was not in good shape. I had had very little sleep, had a bout of vertigo and still had this cold.
I had my appointment today with Ibu Marlena at Ubud Sari Health Spa, but I wasn't really sure I would be able to make it there. It all depended on whether or not I was able to drive the scooter.
After a light breakfast of fruit, I decided to take my chance, since it was possible she was the person I needed to see today.
I was fine getting there. I drove slowly, there was very little traffic and it was noticeably cooler today (maybe less humid).
When I arrived, she was waiting.
I told her I had a cold and my ear was bothering me. I don't think she understands the ear thing. I don't think anyone does and I'm really doubting there is anyone here who can do anything permanent to fix it.
The session started off pretty much as before, only with less talk. She applied an oil to my face and chest that got warm. She applied another oil and I could smell lemon grass.
And then she started to work on my legs, feet, arms and then chest. She didn't tell me to look this time to see what she had done.
As she was massaging my hands I felt myself sink into the comfort of her care. It was like my grandmother was taking care of me, and I imagined her having done this for her children and grandchildren and many others in her village. Beyond what long term effects, if any, her treatment would provide, in the moment, I was feeling comfort, and that is what I needed.
When she had me turn over on my stomach again she did the several applications of oil, massaged my legs and arms and then began scraping my back. I wasn't sure at first what she was doing, but it hurt. As she continued from my upper shoulders, and down my back and then did the other side, I was aware that she was doing something my acupunturist had done to me once. I wasn't thrilled about having these big red welts on my back for the next few days, but if it could help break the cold, it was fine. Besides, she had almost finished already, so what was I to do?
I felt markedly better from the beginning of the treatment to the end. I gave her 100,000 rupiah tip, as I had before, thinking she would head back home, but instead, she waited as I went to the steam room, then the dry sauna, and then took a hot and cold shower.
When I came out, she told me she had ordered a special tea for me in the restaurant and she led me there and sat and talked to me as I drank it.
The tea was delicious. It was made with ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, and sweetened with palm sugar.
She told me a little more about her life, including that she once had a butcher shop and something about the government letting her use their car that I didn't quite understand. I was really just wanting to rest at that point and not chat over a cup of tea.
And so I left her and as she directed me, I went to find a bowl of soup. I decided to go to a restaurant I had passed many times on this little street that runs between Monkey Forest Road and Jalan Hanoman. I think it is called Dewi Siri Street. I thought the restaurant was Thai, and since most of the Indonesian places I've been to seem to have more Thai soups than Indonesian ones, I thought I'd have better luck getting real Thai soup at a Thai restaurant.
As I parked my moto across the street, a young guy was standing outside of a shop with a bucket. And so began the simple exchange that I've gone through countless times and today was not in the mood for. It's making me want to print up a fact sheet and just hand it to people so they will have the information they need about me to continue on with their day.
It went something like this.
Hello sir, how are you?
Fine, how are you?
Fine, where you going?
I'm not sure.
Ah, to eat?
Yes.
Where are you from?
America.
Ah, America. What's your name?
Rick.
My name is Agung.
(and then he comes down and shakes my hand)
Where do you stay?
Artini.
Artini 2?
Yes, Artini 2.
Ah.
Are you here alone?
Yes.
How long in Bali?
2 weeks.
At that point, I had had enough and simply said, okay Agung, it was nice to meet you, and crossed the street to the restaurant I thought was Thai.
Agung may have been talking to me still as I left. I am not sure.
Turns out the restaurant was not Thai at all, but their signs saying to check out their other restaurant that serves authentic Thai food confused me. They had neither porridge nor Thai soups, which were my first two choices of what to eat. They had broccoli and red lentil. But for some reason they did not tell me they had soto ayam until I asked (when I asked about the soups they only mentioned two). That was what I had in mind, a good bowl of Indonesian chicken soup with tumeric and a pot of mint tea.
It was a nice lunch and I continued to sweat from the treatment and now the addition of these hot liquids to my body. Occasionally, from across the street, Agung would wave to me from his shop. I watched as he put a sarong decorated with pineapples on over his pants, and tied a red sash around his waist, and then went around the shop and placed little offerings of flowers and sprinkled them with water. He came outside and did the same and then went down the street to a big banyan tree and made an offering to the tree.
He returned and took off his sarong (I guess it was just to make offerings) and then busied himself around the store.
Just as I was about to leave, he came outside and sat on the steps of his store.
I really didn't want to get into another exchange with him. I really appreciate the friendliness of the Balinese, but sometimes it's just a little too invasive and almost always involves them wanting me to do something for them - I was sure he had a motive - either to get me to buy something, to arrange for transport to the airport, to help a sick aunt, but I just wasn't buying that his friendship was without strings.
So I waited until he went back in the store and quickly made my way across the street. Within seconds however, he was back outside.
Hello, Rick. Where you go now?
To my hotel. It was nice meeting you!
And with that, I started up my motorbike and sped off, hoping I wasn't too rude.
So after a short nap here at my hotel, I brought my laptop out to the dining area and tried to connect to the internet. It wasn't working. Finally, I asked them to turn off the modem and turn it back on and that did the trick. But it also attracted a few of the guys who were lounging around on their lunch breaks. Two of them came over to see if it was working. When they saw it was, one left, but the other sat down behind me and watched as I opened my e-mail, reading things out loud - a message from my cousin "happy belated birthday"..."sorry to hear about your dad..." I closed it and opened my homepage and read some news, waiting until he left so I could begin blogging.
Finally after clicking around several different pages, he got bored and left me.
I just wonder, do we come off as cold to them as they seem intrusive to us?
No comments:
Post a Comment