Desi Back to Desh

Between airports, airplanes and transit lounges

Second brush with the Big Bad Dee

February 2001… I sort of drowned in the pool, off my loverly (not a typo) pool in southern california. Well not exactly my pool and since I shared with 90 other residents in the complex. But at the time of the first big Dee incident, I was the only one in it, it was as mine as mine could be. And because I am still around writing these line, it was classified as sort of drowned.

2nd April 2007… I sort of went into anaphalactic shock and ended up in a Bangkok Hospital for the night. Somkiat drove his new Camry like crazy to the emergency room at Bumrungrad hospital while I wheezed and swelled up like a blow fish in the back. First overnight stay in a hopital in 36 years with a needle poked into my hand for eight hours.

Found out what a great emergency room looks like, that a benadryl injection is an interesting experience in slow torture, that irrespective of how good you feel after taking your antihistamine pill, you should still show up at the hospital just to make sure that you don’t blow some other gasket in your system (left eye hemorraged, speech slurred) and that you need to be pumped up with steriods. I asked the doctor if I would now be able to try out for the Pakistani cricket team.

At a deeper level, still trying to sort my head out. Too busy with work, since this was supposed to be a business trip. For the moment just glad that I finally got that life insurance policy. That is certainly one improvement over the California pool incident 7 years ago… More later