Well, it all went a bit pear-shaped last night as at 8pm I was walking around Shangrila old town as right as rain, but just before midnight, I found myself in a scary Chinese hospital with the worst abdominal pain I've ever experienced.
None of the medical staff spoke a lick of English, so Tun had to wrestle with translation apps while I lay in agony on some wooden bench in a corridor - and the doctor wasn't doing a thing until she had recorded my passport details and symptoms on an ancient computer. And once that was done, Tun had to literally force staff to give me an injection and put me on a drip for a few hours. Good job she's a doctor's daughter.
And all the while patients are walking in and out of rooms, looking for someone to take care of them ' and some pausing occasionally to throw up in the nearest bin.
It was a stark reminder of just how good Thai hospitals are. Even the government ones on the bottom rung I'll wager.
To cut a long story short, I was well enough to be discharged about 3am - but that was a scary experience. And I can't say enough great words about my fantastic wife for the way she handled things.