Terra Firma

New York City.

8:29 am Sunday, March 8,London time; 3:29 pm Bangkok time ( March 9, Monday ); 3:29 am New York time

I’ve traveled essentially from 7am , March 6 until Saturday, March 7 at 11 am. Mind you, I did two March 7s since I crossed the international dateline. Basically, it was 24 hours. First by boat, then car, to get a return flight to Bangkok from Krabi. I arrived in Bangkok in the late morning, caught a cab downtown so that I could retrieve my luggage and re-pack from the Krabi trip. I sorted two months worth of accumulated stuff, and was ready at 5:30pm, wine in hand, two large suitcases, and two pieces of hand luggage to begin the end of my journey.

I had been invited to dinner on Friday, March 6, at the home of an ex-pat couple, who had offered to have their driver return me to the Bangkok airport for my international flight which was due to leave at 00:10am on March 7. That was all quite an ambitious plan but I really wanted to see these new friends before I left, so had accepted their invitation.

Then Murphy’s Law set in. Or perhaps it was a test to see if I had really embraced the notion of the power of doing nothing and still knowing that everything would get done.

My ticket was messed up and required lots of care and feeding. Still made dinner with new expat ( Australian ) friends at their Thai style home with actual grass and a pool, and a proper dining table! And, like the old Bangkok that I’ve only heard about, it was tucked away on a soi ( lane) that made it hard to remember that I was in the midst of chaotic Bangkok. It was wonderful to hear their take on living in the East off and on for years with their twelve year old son, Jack. A cab spirited me away with my bags and my treasures. And, of course, my memories.

In the flight from London to JFK on a huge 747 airship, a day flight, there was an announcement from the captain that any medical professional should identify themselves.
So, I did. Turns out, a woman in coach near the back of this cavernous plane, is suspected of having a stroke. The next two hours were spent with me checking the woman’s vital signs and neurological status that was then reported to the captain and head steward who, in turn, contacted their medical emergency physician in the U.S. The question, of course, was: Do we go back to London? Or is she stable enough to keep going.

It was fascinating to watch the process unfold. She stabilized, they moved me to business class as a courtesy, and we made it to New York ahead of schedule where Port Authority medics took her to the ER for evaluation.

So, that says it all. It’s 3:30am. It’s my birthday. And, I’m glad to be home.

Good Morning, America.
MC