Gay Boy Thailand

I had put removing the eyelid tumor off for years. I would think about it, and think some more, and decide to do it next month, or maybe the month after that, and it was never a convenient time.

I had gone to the hospital to ask how much they charged for the operation, and to have a look at the surgeon. I had planned to think about it and come back later for the surgery. Maybe.

But the surgeon had $$ signs in his eyes and said he could do it the same day.

I realised this was my chance. It would cut the dreading and the nerves to only two hours.

—

I was relived to see that the Thai eye doc looked like he knew what he was doing. He did no scaremongering about cancer and spreading to the lungs like another Thai doctor had done. He did not have bad breath either.

He discussed the use of microscope, which had a marginal effect on the cosmetic result, he said, but would cost a few thousand baht more. I said he should use the microscope. They do that in Farangland.

The Thai eye doc even asked if I had any questions. I had.
- If you remove it, will it grown back?
- It is possible.
- But if you use a microscope to remove all the cancer cells it should not grow back?
- We’ll see if it is cancer or not.
- Doctors in Farangland took a biopsy and said it was a benign tumor.
- OK, but I will send it to the pathologist too.
- Will I have pain after the surgery?
- A little bit.

—

I called Chalerm and told him about the new plan. He had an exam but said he would come to the hospital as soon as he was done.

Pretty nurses and assistants milled around me. They gave me a form asking if I agreed to disclose information about my HIV status, mental health and other sensitive issues to 3rd parties. Hell no.

They noticed this with some worry. And they became suspicious when I didn’t have an insurance card. I said I paid cash. They wanted a 20 000 baht deposit before bringing out the knives. I thought this was unfair. In case they killed me the money would be lost.

—

Compared to the sometimes rude and bossy nurses in our government hospitals in Farangland the Thai ones were much nicer. Everything was better, the furniture, the service, the rooms. The gear was high tech. They had equipment from Carl Zeiss. No cheap stuff from Japan please, only German optics will do.

Keeping such standards is expensive. But who cares about the 98% of the Thai population who can’t afford going to Bumrumgrad International? Send them to the witch doctors.

—

In Farangland the eye doctors dump me in a chair and do surgery with a mimimum of fuss, while I wear street clothes. But with them it is free. In Bangkok it is not free and they made a lot more out of it.

I had to wear a green surgery pyjamas and a silly plastic hat. I was placed in a bed which they pushed around. They put a pulse monitor on my finger. They measured my blood pressure every 20 minutes. At every point they kept checking my identity. This was kind of them. I didn’t want to wake up with a missing leg.

The doc tested my reflexes and my eye resisted vigorously when he approaced it with instruments. He spoke about putting me to sleep. General anestethics? No thanks. That would leave me feeling like a wreck for days.

They strapped my arms to the bed. I thought they only did that to insane people.

My chin began to itch. I could not reach it.

- You can scream but you can’t move, said the surgeon when he placed local anestethics needles in the skin under my eye.

I didn’t scream. I only said “aowwww!” and twisted. Twice.

I spent the next half our watching, with the eye he was working on, his movements and instruments. The lights were bright.
- Look at me, said the doc, but I could not see him.

The doc didn’t want any talking. But he made some worrying sounds, like “no no no!” and “wait wait!” in Thai. That was to the nurses. They had to hold the thingies in the right place.

The heart beat monitor said beep beep in the background. I could hear it go up and down depending on what the doctor did to me. When he said he was almost done the beat fell markedly.

Then they pushed me to the post-surgery room. They asked if I had pain and I said no, not yet.

Chalerm came in. He walked up to me, looked at my eye and said:
- You need to rest.
Then he left.

He later said the nurses had told him he could not linger.

One of the nurses held my hand, poked my belly and flirted. She wondered why she could not have white skin like I had. I told her she was almost white already. There are no darkie Isaan nurses in Bumrumgrad.

The anestethics began to wear off and I asked for painkillers.
- But you say you no pain, said the nurse.

Do these people have any idea how post-surgery pain works?

They gave me mild off-the-shelf painkillers. I complained and said I wanted something stronger. Pain only little bit? That was not true.

What is it with Thai doctors and pain? I have seen this before. They do surgery and send people home with plain Paracet. That’s not good enough. Cutting people up is going to hurt. They should give some opiate, at least for the first 24 hours. I made noise and the nurses called up the doc, who reluctantly gave me three stronger pills. That took care of it.

—

Chalerm came in to pick me up. He took photos of me wearing the green clothes and with a swollen, black and bloody eye.

Then we went to pay. The cost was all of the deposit, and then some.

Chalerm was caring and supportive. When we came home he put me to bed while he went out to buy dark sunglasses. I wear them now, in the Internet cafe.

I lifted the sunglasses to scare the ladyboy-in-training. He made a face. A girl sitting behind him turned away with disgust.

Then the ladyboy-in-training asked for 20 baht to buy sausages in the soi. I told him he should go home and ask his mother.

—

For the next two weeks I will wear sunglasses night and day. It makes Bangkok darker than usual. I was almost run over by a motorbike in the soi. They are hard enough to see when they have their lights on, which is not always.

Tags: Bangkok, eye doctor, hospital, operation