Re-acclimation Shock

There are many aspects you can prepare for when choosing to live abroad: visa, money exchange, climate, packing, etc. Heck, even knowing that you'll be immersing yourself into a culture and a language that you, most likely, do not know, you can be somewhat prepared for. These may seem daunting at first, trust me, they aren't. In the big picture, those are the easy things. You can make lists.

You can't make lists for the emotional or mental aspects.

When you live abroad it tests your relationships with your family and friends. 

As I have been saying, "Living in Thailand, helped me realize how many friends I actually have." 

Now, this is not 'Amanda is having a pity party blog,' thing. When you move to a foreign country and are out of peoples general vicinity, I guess you lose touch? IDK. At least, I could see that being an issue before the internet. How difficult is it to respond to messages or emails? I don't know? I find it easy, but that's my personality. I will also say that I have always been the initiator in my friend groups, the planner, the one that texted and planned things. I always asked people how they were doing, reaching out. 

For other people, this is difficult. I have learned this and feel no ill-will towards anyone who is not like me. 

One day, I was asked why I was the only one doing any communication with my 'friends' and I started thinking about that why. I did a little experiment. Turns out if you don't message your supposed 'best friend' she won't reach out to you for nearly a year and a half. 

Yes, I know we all outgrow friendships. That is fine. We treasure the memories we have. We move on.

Another aspect about living abroad you can somewhat prepare for is culture shock. There are plenty of YouTube videos of your respective country to give you and idea of what you're walking into. What I didn't expect...the culture shock of coming back to the states.

The re-acclimation.  

It's weird. I miss so many things about Thai culture that I wish were adopted by America culture. Mainly hospitality, bum hoses, street vendors, free health care, and actual spicy food. 

If you are an avid reader of our previous posts you'll know about my weight loss and skin removal surgeries, therefore, I'm now around people who knew me before. I'm constantly stopped and told how amazing I look and how inspiring I am. I'm not quite sure how that makes me feel nor how to respond. I generally say thank you and run away awkwardly. I get asked a lot how I lost the weight. I am working of play, hopefully I'll finish it and will perform it for y'all.

Everyone is obsessed with my eating habits. I don't eat much and and only eat when I'm hungry. For some reason that's weird. If you feel so inclined just give me some veggies or fruit.

I'm not the same person I was when I left in May of '19 for Thailand. I'm more confident, happier, defiant, outspoken, and with more gumption. People aren't expecting that. People are expecting the nice, door-mat that left. I'm not her anymore. So, once again, I'm losing friends because I'm having the gall to stand up for myself. Shocker. So, as my lovely wife says, "Were they really your friend to begin with then?" She makes a good point. (This is when you get to use you 'I told you so' button) The last few weeks have revealed many friendships are dying and old me would have sent message after message to try to preserve them. Now, I don't see the point. Why bother, I've made efforts and none of these people have. It's not worth my time. 

Now, are these negatives? No. They are simply things that I wasn't prepared to cope with. Therapy helps. 

If you are still reading. Mazel tov. 

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Things I miss about Thailand - Amanda

 Things I miss about Thailand...in no order of importance

1. Kaprao 

2. 7-11 food

3. Night Markets

4. The weather

5. Thunderstorms you could set your watch to

6. Pad thai

7. Liver on a stick

8. Moped drives

9. Thai hospitality

10. U-turns

11. Koh Lanta

12. BBQ at PP's mom's restaurant

13. Hanging out after school with Hannah and Leicester

14. Paying 20baht for a full meal

15. Eating rice for every meal

16. The sound of tokays

17. The modesty

18. Spicy food

19. Khao gee

20. Monkeys

21. Leijing's hugs

22. Walks around campus

23. The flowers

24. Fresh fruit smoothies

25. 200baht tennis shoes

26. Boba

27. Bum hose

28. Affordable sushi

29. How easy it was to travel 

30. Mr. DIY

31. Danila's sass

32. Banana pancakes 

33. Thai massages 

34. Free health care with work visa

35. Pak Soi

36. People not expecting me to be who I was

Destination Wedding: Hennepin County - Amanda

Bali.        Italy.       Jamaica.      The Bahamas.        Mexico.

These are places you may think of when you hear destination wedding. 

I bet Hennepin County in Minnesota is not on your shortlist of destination wedding locales.

For us, it was.

If you have been keeping up with our latest blogs you already know that we adventured back to the states to get vaccinated. 

We also got married.

Amidst the chaos of searching for flights and packing Genie proposed. It was about 2 am and we had been attempting to contact my mom to inform her that we were planning to come home. She went digging for something on her side of the bed and returned to me, weirdly sitting on our yoga mat as I tend to do. She aptly began with, "So...I'm awkward..." 

Guys. 

I seriously love this woman.

She handed me a homemade hankie wrapped box and told me to open it. Of course, that's when my computer started making noise that my mom was calling me back...great timing. I ignored it (sorry mom) and proceeded to open the box. Inside was, you guessed it, a ring. Tears immediately began, hence the need for the hankie. 

Of course, I said yes.

We were going home to get vaccinated and get married. 

Prior to this we hadn't talked a whole lot about weddings. We both agreed that we wanted it to be a small affair and that we wanted pie at the reception.

I'll admit, my mind started racing with how I could plan a small, backyard, BBQ wedding in under a month. Stage manager mode had kicked in. 

Reality then set in...this would need to be quick and simple. The best option was a courthouse wedding.

I learned that the 5 metro countries in Minnesota are the only counties that still do courthouse weddings. After several unanswered phone calls, Judge Sullivan's assistant, Logan, answered and we had our judge and court date...I mean wedding date.

Due to Covid restrictions still in place, we could only bring our two witnesses with us. We had a hard decision to make. We couldn't bring both sets of parents. Instead we opted to ask relatives who literally live 5 blocks away from the courthouse. Cue Genie's aunt Jan and uncle Jon. 

 Side bar: they also happen to be the in-laws of my high school marching band instructor...I think it's funny that I'm now related, via marriage, to Mr. Krueger. 

Friday, June 18, 2021 

Our day began early, we made a pit stop by Genie's paternal grandparents. It was a lovely visit, full of great questions about our time abroad.

Around noon, we headed to Jan and Jon's for a brief rest and to change into our wedding garb. 

We knew this was not going to be a wedding gown affair, which I was slightly disappointed with but understood that it would be impossible to do. I am that girl who dreamed about wearing a fancy, white dress on her wedding day. I have been promised a reception in the future when I will be able to wear one.

Our ceremony was to take place at 4:30 and Logan had instructed us to get there a half hour early to go though security. Once finished we asked one of the guards where Judge Sullivan's chambers were and he had no clue, we were the first people besides staff he'd seen in the building. Helpful.

We headed towards the elevator and luckily there was signage. Logan happened to be waiting outside the elevator, baffled that we were there already. "We always tell people to arrive 30 mins early so they won't be late, most people still are." Well if you have ever met Genie or myself you know that we are chronically early arrivers. Anxiety yo.

Now I have never been in a courtroom before but it was nothing like what you see on TV. There were no windows, no large oak tables, and NO Mariska Hargitay. 

 

We had a bit of time to kill before Judge Sullivan would be finished with her working day so we used the opportunity to take some photos.

The best way to describe Judge Sullivan is the official version of Maya Rudolph. She was lovely. At one point she told us that we were both beautiful and was confused as to why we opted for a courthouse ceremony instead of getting all gussied up. Cue to us explaining where we lived and Genie showing off the adorable photos of her 4 year-old students.

After some court interruptions, we finally began the ceremony around 4:45. 

It was short, to the point, and not smultzy. I cried when it got to my "I do." Genie kept all of her glorious snarky comments to herself...she wasn't sure how the Judge would feel about the sass. If I could rewind, I would have encouraged her to insert her comments.

We were now married and I'll admit I had the biggest, dopiest smile on my face. 

Our dinner reservations were still an hour out so we headed over to Loring Park to take some photos. 

To the brave squirrel who fought his dog injuries for 3 months. RIP <3

Jan, her iphone, and Genie's editing delivered.

Shout out to Jon who followed around carrying our bags. 

Our dinner was at Lucrat and it was fantastic. Jan had requested their nicest table and it definitely was. We could see the park and watch the open kitchen. Gordon Ramsey would have applauded the teamwork.

We received a champagne toast courtesy of the restaurant. 

The cheese tray appetizer might have been my favorite item we ordered...there are no pictures of it so it might have been everyone's favorite.

Dinners were lovely and the company was fantastic. 

In lieu of a wedding cake or our desired pie we had the house speciality...mini donuts.

We snuck a few more photos in before thanking Jan and Jon for the wonderful company. 

We headed to Winona, MN where we spent our wedding night on a blow-up mattress snuggling a pit bull. 

PS from Genie: "I still haven't gotten my pie."

Alternative State Quarantine Lockdown (The Process and Hotel) -G

We came - we saw - we got vaccinated - and now we're back. 

What did we come back to? Well, to be honest, a bit of a shite show. For instance, today alone there were over 8,000 new cases of Covid-19 that were found via tests. I can only imagine what the actual number is. 

The norm for over a year now has been that arrivals into Thailand must quarantine for 2 weeks. You can either go to a government center (Thais only) or to an alternative quarantine (Thais and Foreigners).

Is it expensive? Yes.

Was it mandatory to get back to our jobs? Yes.

So for the next two weeks, Amanda and I are sequestered in a hotel room in downtown Bangkok. 

Honestly, it's as far from "slumming it" as possible. We decided, for once, to shell out and treat ourselves. 

**

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

To get back into Thailand to begin with, we needed a slew of paperwork. Anyone who spent any time with us back home knew that I was in a near constant state of doing some weird form to submit to the Thai government. 

We needed a negative Covid-19 test, verified flights, all our visas verified, our quarantine needed to be booked and paid, a T.8 form filled out, and honestly a slew more information I don't even remember at this point. 

And then we needed to print it in triplicate. 

Thankfully both Amanda and I are ridiculously organized. We bought a folder and used the living daylights out of it throughout our trip back. 

Luckily for us, our papers were perfectly in order and this made the process of getting back into the country super easy! We were asked slews of questions at every airport we touched (MSP/O'Hare/NRT Japan/BKK) but we had all the answers we needed in our handy folder.

So by the time we were getting off our last flight in Bangkok to be escorted away by Thais in hazmat suits, the last step was easy. 

We were taken from the airport to our hotel quarantine in a party van that had been converted into a Covid taxi. Re: a lot of plexiglass.

From there, we were checked in, had our temps taken one last time, and were delivered to our room around 1am (our flight landed around 10).

**

The room is twice the size of our apartment and as of day 2, we're loving it. 

There's space to work out.

There's space to work for each of us without having to hear the other person in our headsets.

There's TWO bathrooms!

I can't tell if my standards are really this low or if I'm just blown away by the fact that we've got a bathtub where we can fit our whole bodies underwater!

We will have Covid-19 tests on Day 2 (already completed), Day 6, and Day 12 of our 14 day quarantine. They're our only chance to go outside, albeit briefly, but I'm kind of looking forward to someone shoving a q-tip into my brain ... 

**

It looked cleaner when we moved in, but we were so exhausted that we hit the pillows and passed out. 

There And Gone And Back Again! Culture Shock Edition! -G

For those of you who are unaware of the past two months, Amanda and I have just pulled off the greatest heist in our history. 

Think Jake and Amy pulling off the most epic Halloween Heist in Brooklyn 99. (Amanda made me spell out this whole TV show like you wouldn't understand B99 from the context of Jake and Amy.) Except this one involved multiple plane trips, immigration, quarantine, and working sneaky overnights.

**

It all started one evening when my school sent a message in early June saying that we would be online until the beginning of August due to Covid-19. Our first thought was: "this would be the perfect time to go home and get vaccinated. Could we make it happen?"

We started frantically researching and packing. Schools in Thailand do not like when people make decisions for themselves, so we knew we would have to be incredibly sneaky. 

48 hours later, we had negative Covid-19 tests, fit-to-fly certificates, plane tickets, bags packed, and after our classes got out on Friday afternoon we grabbed a taxi to the airport and set off back to America for the first time in over 2 years.

The flights were uneventful - but flying Japanese air does mean you get hot miso soup with every meal!

We arrived back in Minneapolis and were greeted by our mothers early Sunday morning (about 1am).

And so the charade began.

We socialized by afternoon, taught from 8pm-4am, and did our best to sleep during the day. By that, I mean we were incredibly sleep deprived and generally pretty cranky. So thank you for those of you who received slightly more sass than what was strictly necessary.

It was a horrific and bizarre schedule, but we were lucky. Nobody caught on.

On our second full day back, we got our first vaccinations. For the people living in the first world, this may not seem like a huge deal. You've had them readily available long enough for there to be lotteries and gift cards. But we're in the mindset of people who used to sit at a computer for hours hitting refresh in the hopes we could get INTO the vaccine lottery available in the 3rd world.

From there, we did our best to adapt back into the US. It was weird. 

1. First of all, there is no street food. 

Enough said. You cannot get liver on a stick at 8pm from a nice lady with a cart. What's even the point?

2. Secondly, everything is fried. 

Straight up, I gained over 15# in the amount of time we were home. And it wasn't for a lack of exercise. I actually got more physical activity there than I would normally in Thailand because we can't just go for walks here.

Portion sizes were also WILD. Most times when we went out to eat, Amanda and I would split something and we hardly ever finished it. And it wasn't because it wasn't delicious. There was also an overabundance of foods we aren't accustomed to: breads being the biggest oddity.

3. Third, driving was so different!

For the past two years, I've been driving a motorbike on the left side of the road - mostly. Traffic rules are very flexible ideas meant to keep traffic moving efficiently. 

Well tell that to the traffic on i90 when I almost pulled into the wrong lane instinctually. 

Also, Amanda can legally drive in the US!

Also, there was no zipping between traffic. You're 18th at a red light? Yep. You sure are and you're going to stay there. I definitely missed the thrill of whizzing past cars and carefully maneuvering my bike between trucks to get to the front of the line at every stoplight!

And to top it all off, I had to fill my own gas for the first time in over 2 years. You heard it here first, folks. I completely forgot how to fill up my own gas. 

4. We definitely have adapted to living in the tropics. 

Regardless of the fact we returned to Minnesota during what they called 'scorching hot weather', Amanda and I were still consistently cold and dry. 

My nose was constantly cracking from the lack of humidity while everyone we saw was complaining about how wet it was.

I don't think Amanda ever left the house without a sweater despite it being consistently in the 90s while we were home. 

There were several times we tried to go for walks during our "lunch" from school (midnight-1am) but it was FAR TOO COLD for either of us to stay out for long. 

The coldest we saw was 55 and we didn't even bother going out that night. We stayed inside, made hot cocoa, and curled up under a heated blanket. 

I'm. Not. Even. Kidding.

Then when it was nice and we went outside in the sunshine, I received several comments about the fact I was consistently in long, black pants and a long sleeved sweater.

Duah. Do you think I want this beautiful white skin to touch the sun? Do you think I can handle a cool breeze anymore? 

Absolutely not.

5. Why are y'all still shaking hands?

On no less than MANY occasions, I had people shake my hand - either as an introduction or an "I missed you". 

It was weird.

Did Covid-19 teach you nothing? Well, we taught many of you how to 'wai' (ceremonial Thai bow) because ... bleh ... TOUCHING people? No thank you!

6. People weren't wearing masks.

It felt odd to be the lone person wearing a mask and to not have them mandatory. We've been sporting them since Christmas 2019 because we had a bad pollution spike and then we went straight into Covid-19 masking. 

It was incredibly weird to not have to wear a mask everywhere - although for the most part we did anyway. It was also strange to see children without them. My entire last school year I only saw my children's faces during milk break and lunch. 

I think I saw more children's faces on our quick trip back than I did the entirety of last school year.

7. Eavesdropping made me absolutely exhausted. 

In Thailand, the language is not only foreign, but also rather sing-song. It makes it very easy to zone it out and loud crowds and traffic disappear into the background.

When you understand the language being spoken after 2 years of its absence, you notice every word. Your brain perks up every time you hear something in your native language. And because of that, my brain was being pinged constantly. 

Going to Target was absolutely exhausting.

**

Don't get us wrong, we had a blast seeing the people we love. We got to spend quality time with our families, friends, and most importantly: our friend's dogs. 

We feel incredibly lucky to have gotten to come back for vaccines as many of our friends and coworkers were unable. 

So please, if you haven't yet, go get vaccinated. 

Hyvee LITERALLY GIVES YOU A GIFT CARD. 

Twos Years of Reflection

Two years have passed since our moms dropped us off at MSP; it feels simultaneously like yesterday and a decade ago. 

My mind has been reflecting lately on what an incredible opportunity this has been. My mind has also been reflecting on some of the not-so-sunny moments. I know you all want to hear about the amazing stuff which we post about a lot, but I wanted to share some of the sad stuff too.

Since moving to Thailand our collective of grandparents have been halved. When we moved we knew that there was an inevitability that we would lose grandparents while living over here. I will admit that I honestly didn't think it would happen. Dealing with loss from abroad is strange and different and not any easier than when you are home with your family.

Our first loss came in January 2020 when Genie's maternal grandmother died on her half-birthday. I only met her a few times. We had just started dating and as we were leaving her room she insisted on kissing Genie's butt. I thought it was rather humorous. 

A little over a month later, two-days before my birthday, my maternal grandmother passed. I didn't handle it well at all. My family had been telling me that her health had been on a rapid decline and that she had finally agreed to move into an assisted living center. Then, very quickly, that turned into hospice and mere hours before being moved she passed away. We were about to head into our longer break between semesters and thought, maybe we could go home for this funeral...but then COVID reared its ugly head and we knew we couldn't go anywhere. I did as much as I could to help plan the funeral, organized a slew of theatre friends back home to sing and wrote a eulogy my brother was going to read. Ultimately, my grandpa decided it was better to not risk the spread of infection and canceled the funeral. I strongly supported his choice, some family members did not. 

I often think about the last day I got to spend with my grandma. Our immediate families all congregated with us in Lanesboro for one last meal together. She and I sat next to each other at Pedal Pushers sharing fries and dousing them in ranch. When we hugged, she looked up at me, smiled, and said, "I'm so proud of you." It's a good memory and one I will continue to treasure. 

I still find days that are hard. I'll do something that reminds me of her and my mind will wander down a rabbit hole. I had a DQ blizzard as my 'last meal' before my first skin removal surgery because it was her favorite food group. I do wish she could see me know. I miss her but I know that she loved me and loved seeing me happy.

The rest of 2020 went as expected. Lockdowns, masks, social distancing. Eventually, Genie's maternal grandfather was moved into a hospice care facility. We'd get updates on how he was doing and Genie's mom would read our blogs and emails to him when she visited.

He passed at the end of April 2021. We had been told he wasn't eating much and that the end was near. He had a photo of us with Kathy when she came to visit us last year posted in his room. I thought that was sweet. I'll remember his smile and the stories he would tell us over dinner. 

This is where I could put in some great epitaph or words from Elizabeth Kubler Ross about death and dying...but that seems too cliché. 

Gut-Wrenched and Sleep-Deprived

For those of you who don't know (and anyone reading this probably does), Amanda is in the hospital following a procedure she's been counting down to for a number of years.

This blog post is not meant to speak for her. She's perfectly capable of that. 

This blog post is about how incredibly scary it is to be a helpless bystander and how I operate as a binary function.

Let's begin on Monday. It was the first school day back after New Year's. I went into school for a half-day because schools in Thailand have yet again shut down and gone virtual because of a second wave of Covid-19. Monday night was the last night our lives felt normal. We danced around our apartment and cleaned up the GIANT mess I had made the night previously making pumpkin massaman curry. 

Late Monday is when the nerves started setting in for me. I found it incredibly hard to get to sleep. By 4am, I had stopped trying. I got up, continued cleaning until the apartment shone, and then curled back up in bed until Tuesday morning at a more appropriate time to "get up". 

Tuesday was relatively dull. We didn't have school because of the shutdown. We spent the day packing, generally bumming around the apartment, and watching movies. Amanda attempted a trip to the gym, but unfortunately that was also closed. Tuesday night was unpleasant. Anxiety is real. Amanda went to bed around midnight, but I doubt she got any good sleep. She spent hours tossing and turning next to me.

How do I know this? 

Because I didn't even bother trying to sleep. I didn't bother so hard that I signed up for back-to-back veteran hard-mode trials in ESO (read: I signed up for difficult video game things that require paying attention and I play a role where if I'm not on my A game, everyone dies.). While my guild leaders were super excited (I don't mean to brag, but I am an excellent healer. Mom. If you're reading this, you're reading this correctly. In a virtual world where you can kill things in whatever manner you please, I dedicate almost 100% of my time to perfecting the art of keeping my friends alive to the point that none of my characters have the ability to do ANY damage. 15 year old me does not recognize 27 year old me.), it also meant that I wasn't even going to try sleeping.

Wednesday morning came early. We needed to be at the hospital at 10am for Amanda's check-in and it's about a 40 minute drive from our house. Amanda at this point was not allowed water or food, which she took like a champ, but her stomach was vocally upset about. In solidarity, I also abstained from breakfast (though I did POUND a liter of water while she went to the bathroom).

We made it to the hospital perfectly on time. In Thai standards, we were super early. 9:59.

Amanda went to the front desk to check in, but as she walked up, everyone got excited because EVERYBODY knew who she was and why she was there. (Also, all the staff love gossiping about her/us in Thai thinking that I don't understand them. I'm not going to let too much on because I think it's adorable.)

We settled into the waiting room and over the next three hours, Amanda was pulled into different rooms for different reasons: bloodwork, surgical markings, bloodwork review, consultations, photos, etc. I spent this time in the waiting room doing important things like JUDGING THE WEIRDOS IN THE WAITING ROOM.

The highlight of them was a woman in ... what I can only describe as a strip of cheetah-print velour spandex that started at about her nipples and ended so abruptly that if she dropped anything, we'd all get a show. She was wondering in broken English/Spanish/Thai (which is an odd combination for me to understand but at this point I have TOO MANY snippets of TOO MANY LANGUAGES floating in my head to remember what verbs go with which nouns) if the cocaine she snorted last night would affect her breast enhancement at 7pm.

My mental thought: "um... yes?"

The front desk: "... How much cocaine?"

**Fast forward a few hours: she did get her boobs done. Apparently it wasn't TOO MUCH COCAINE. Real question: I was raised to believe that any cocaine is too much cocaine. I wonder what the limit actually is... like... she obviously didn't die in surgery... so I guess she took an appropriate amount of cocaine?!? Sleep-deprived brain does not like this.**

Finally around 1pm we went up to a room on the fifth floor and were informed it was Amanda's room for the upcoming stay. It's comfortable. Honestly it's only a touch smaller than our entire apartment. 

After maybe 15 minutes of settling in, the translator came in with a couple members of staff and asked if we were ready to pay. 

Um? No. We were told that payment was on checkout, so we didn't bring it WITH US.

However, the hospital was not going to proceed until we had paid. (They had previously had foreigners go through with operations only to not pay and then leave the country.)

So off I went back to our apartment to put finances in place and then drive back to the hospital. All in all, it was about a 90 minute roundtrip. When I got back to the hospital, Amanda was chained to the bed by an IV line. 

Around 3:30, a nurse and the translator (who I also think was the surgeon's assistant?) came to grab Amanda. The put her in a wheelchair and off they went... 

So began the waiting. Luckily a friend in the area knew this was happening and she offered to come over and distract me for a couple hours. We went out for dinner (Gusto Sushi - Amanda wrote about it in a previous post), found the weirdest coffee shop with some adorable, albeit inbred, kittens, and then definitely got mysterious viruses from the most filthy Swenson's I've ever visited.

She left around 7:30pm and I was back to waiting.

I don't wait well.

So I did all the schoolwork I was assigned (as we're now back online). Unfortunately, I'm now too good at that and what was supposed to take me 10 hours (and it IS taking my coworkers that long if not longer) took about 3... and that was with frequent breaks and dancing.

Almost immediately after recording the last video, (10ish pm) a nurse came into the room to take Amanda's empty bed down to recovery. I wrongly assumed that meant she was getting close to done.

I asked the nurse in Thai what roughly translates to: "What is the time the professor of scissors will finish with the orange hair girl?"

She laughed so hard that she needed to prop herself up on the bed and responded in PERFECT English: "I'm not sure. My best guess would be a little after five in the morning? But I'm not in the surgery and I'm not the doctor." 

She left with the bed and I now had a vague idea of when Amanda would return. 

I think what bothers me most about the surgical process in Thailand is the lack of updates. If I wouldn't have gone out of my way to ask a nurse, I would have found nothing out until Amanda was back in the room.

Again, I didn't bother sleeping. There's a small 'fainting couch' in the room that I fit on just fine (thank you, tiny genetics) but it's uncomfortable and Amanda had now been gone for 10 hours. 

I did some stretching.

I watched several documentaries by Absolute History. Definitely look them up on YouTube. They're EXCELLENT. 

I practiced handstands... I'm terrible at them, but it's a great way to kill 30 minutes.

I dug around the bathroom looking for soap to wash my hands with only to discover that the ONE THING this hospital room doesn't have is SOAP. 

WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC AND THERE IS NO SOAP IN THE BATHROOM.

It's cool. I've since gone to 7-11 and fixed that issue.

Finally I settled into the couch with a bottle of water and started watching Absolute History's "Medieval Men Who Ate Bread Off of Corpses" because that's how rabbit holes work when I heard the keycard door start to beep.

5:18am.

That nurse was eerily correct.

Amanda spent the next 36 hours coming out of the anesthesia and it was equally brutal on both of us. 

First, we found out that her surgery had not been completed. Only one of the two procedures had been done because the anesthesiologist deemed her under for too long. This was glaringly obvious: Amanda still has her wings. 

Secondly, I have never experienced someone coming off of general anesthesia. I had googled it, but I wasn't ready for it in person. Her blood pressure tanked. Nurses ran in and out with drugs, fluids, and beeping machines. The Thai whispers were hushed and rapid. I could only make out words I knew from teaching small children during a pandemic: "pressure too low", "fever", "antibiotics", "sick".

She was groggy. She didn't know where she was or who I was. Adorably, for a while, she thought I was her mother and proceeded to tell me how beautiful I was and how much she likes my butt... I'm not sure why she thought her mother needed to know that, but it was cute nonetheless. 

The nurses forced 1000ml of water down her throat with a slew of small pills before she started vomiting. From that point on, I turned into my mother. Nobody got to touch Amanda, put anything in her mouth, or put anything in an IV before answering the question: "Why?"

No answer? You can't explain it in baby Thai or broken English? Go find someone who can.

The nurses found out real fast that the instant Amanda takes a turn in the negative direction, this Genie shapeshifts into a Banshee. 

The results?

Every single time someone walks into Amanda's room, they announce why they're here. 

Back home, we take advantage of the fact we can communicate with everyone: nurses, orderlies, doctors. It was jarring to be treated almost like a child: go sit on your couch while the adults do their work. My mother can attest that has never worked on me.

Since my brief, but rather violent flare, the nursing staff has been pleasant, quietly vocal, and I am their middleman. 

Pills in a container? Oop. Better explain each of them to Teacher Genie like she's an idiot. 

And Teacher Genie is a special version of regular Genie. Teacher Genie can ask a four year old what color the white horse is until she's blue in the face. No really. One of the verbal test questions for term one's final was "What color is the white goose?" and I asked it to 180 different 4 year olds at least once.

Random cup full of a mysterious white liquid? You're definitely going to need to tell me what that is. 

Injection at a non-scheduled round time? What's in it? What's the dosage? Standard for this procedure or is this a special order?

The best interaction happened last night with dinner. Amanda wasn't hungry when it was delivered, so I went into the nurse's lounge around 10pm to use their microwave. The loveliest nurse was in there. (She's stunning and nice. I mean this in every sense of the word lovely.)

"The nurses are afraid of you."

"Is it because I ask questions and demand actual answers?"

"Yes. It is not very Thai."

"Nor am I."

We then had a lovely conversation about travel in Thailand and how nice it has been to go exploring without the millions of farang tourists. 

"You do not sleep. We try to go in when you sleep, but you never sleep."

"I'm too scared to sleep."

"You know, you are not very scary."

"Now we both know that, but there's no need to tell your friends."

*winks* *walks back to Amanda's room with hot soup*

I spent most of that night chatting with people on various messengers. Amanda has a friend who will be having a very similar procedure done later this week. She was a glorious person to bounce everything off of. It was also incredibly cool to hear the differences between their procedures. 

Friday, Amanda really started to perk up. She demolished her breakfast and as soon as lunch arrived, it was gone. She was itching to sit up and we spent a good portion of the day moving her arms and legs. She took a nap between breakfast and lunch and another short nap after she finished her lunch. 

The day was full of pushes of energy that lasted just long enough to do one thing: sit up, check Line, respond to one person. She received many messages of support and love. She read them all and replied to as many as she found energy for. But this process really has proved that Amanda and I can sit in companionable silence for hours on end. 

I also had to explain to her that a coup was currently occurring in our home country. Imagine waking from anesthesia to the beginning of The Handmaid's Tale. But if I didn't get to her before Rachel Maddow or Twitter, she wouldn't be too pleased with me. 

Dinner for Amanda came early: about 5pm. She thought it was early. In reality, that's what time dinner came the night before, but she was so out of it that it took until 10pm for her to be interested in trying it. She wolfed down the fried rice and deemed it "boring, but passable". 

Our friend from earlier stopped back in to check up on Amanda. We ordered Poke Bowls and I'm afraid we made Amanda quite jealous with the smells of sushi wafting across the room. By the end of the short visit, Amanda was completely wiped. 

I'll give this to our friend, she knows exactly when to leave. Not that she isn't welcome, but she reads signals impeccably. 

Amanda took another short nap and we settled into an evening of quiet podcasts and me working on Google Slide presentations for school. Inevitably I ended up procrastinating doing actual work and ended up on Twitter and then here.

For now, that's it. 

It's 6am on Saturday. Amanda is officially 2 days out of surgery and itching for the next step. Hopefully it involves physical STEPS because she's itching to get out of that bed.

And me? I'll sleep when I'm dead.