September of '26
A Walk in the Park
I don’t mean to shock anyone, but it was my 64th birthday, so by relationship rules, I got to decide what to do for the day. My choice: Changthong Heritage Park. We’ve enjoyed ourselves here a handful of times. It’s my fav place for a 30-minute stroll then a nice lunch.
I find it magical and today did not disappoint. The video is only one minute long. I find that magic , much like a pint of Guiness, is best in small sips
"It's the best in the world" No, I Think It's Broken
It started with the sudden, sickening sensation that my body was spinning while I was driving in Seattle. The horizon, that line in the distance we depend upon to be level, tilted thirty degrees to the right. My brain insisted that my body was rotating clockwise, and fast. I knew that if I didn’t pull over immediately, I would crash into another car—or worse. Once stopped, I crawled into the passenger seat as Diane ran around to the driver’s side, in traffic on a busy street. She took us back to our Airbnb. That was my first experience with vertigo. It followed a 23-hour journey from Chiang Mai to Seattle four months ago.
I decided not to see a doctor in Seattle. Maybe that wasn’t the best decision of my life, but thankfully, it worked out in the end. Besides, I needed to hold on to my man-card. We men don’t tend to see a doctor unless we lose a limb or something. That decision, along with what happened in Chiang Mai four months later, added to my doubts about what Americans say about their healthcare system.
I do hear criticism about healthcare in the US, but it is nearly always followed by the ubiquitous phrase, “But the healthcare system in the US is the best in the world.” It is usually said in such a manner that those words are irrefutable. But is it the best? Really? You can decide at the end of this article.
Four months later, another chapter of the vertigo saga played out. Yesterday, while at a restaurant waiting for our cappuccinos, I got dizzy. Not the kind of dizzy that makes you say, “Hmmm, I’m a little dizzy.” No, it was the kind of dizzy that made me think, “If I lean in any direction, I’m going to end up on the floor.” The horizon, again, tilted. I’ll share something else. I’m more worried about making a scene in public than I am about my health. Of course, I let Diane know what was going on, but I wanted to wait it out and see if it improved. The staff delivered our coffee drinks. Nope, not yet. Still spinning. By then, I was covered with sweat. They delivered our lunches. Still dizzy. In a ploy to pretend that I was ok, I was able to eat three french fries and a single bite of my club sandwich. Thankfully, it did start to improve a lot. By the time the check needed to be paid, I felt good enough to get us a Grab and get us home. I hope the staff were not worried about the fact that I did not eat my lunch.
We had stopped for lunch after grocery shopping, so we had a lot of items with us. I felt much, much better. So, I dropped Diane off at the condo to handle the groceries and went to RAM Hospital to make sure I was good. I’m 64, and I intend to have at least 21 years left. I want to make those years excellent.
The Timeline:
12:35… I walked into the main entrance of RAM Hospital and explained to the receiving desk that I was a bit dizzy.
12:40… I was led to a private room and able to talk to a nurse sporting what I call a nursy hat. This is not some relic of the past; at RAM Hospital, it signifies that she is an RN. It is a sign of their hierarchy. I was able to describe what was happening in detail. She listened with a genuine look of concern on her face while she kept her demeanor warm and friendly for my benefit as a patient. A true professional.
12:45… I was led back to the waiting area. I assume they were lining up a doctor.
1:30… Forty-five minutes later, I received a heartfelt apology for how long it was taking. I was silently amused, as in the US, this is not even approaching “long.” Here, it is viewed as a service failure. Remember I walked into the main doors of the hospital, not emergency.
2:15… I was then taken to a separate waiting room outside a row of doctors’ offices.
2:30… I was seen by an ear, nose, and throat doctor. He rooted around my inner ear and did some other tests. He said I should see a neurologist. I asked him where I could make an appointment. He looked at me a little funny and said I would see one that day. I was whisked up to the fourth floor, to the hospital’s dedicated specialty department area.
2:48… I was now sitting in front of a doctor in the neurology department. He had a lot of questions, and I told him the story of flying from Chiang Mai to Seattle four months ago, then immediately by emptying a storage unit. I told him of my debilitating vertigo while driving incident. Then that I remained a little dizzy for our entire month there but then greatly improved when we returned to Chiang Mai. Even then, I continued to have times of light dizziness over the next months. He raised an eyebrow, paused, then had me go through some physical tests. In the end, he told me what was wrong and how to solve it. I had loose crystals in a canal in my inner ear, where they shouldn’t be. With medication and a daily series of head movements called the Epley maneuver, I’d be fit as a fiddle in a few weeks. Before that day, I thought that the Heimlich maneuver was the only maneuver that was out there.
As I walked toward the billing desk, I checked my Kasikorn Bank account. I had only $180 in it. I felt that distinctly American anxiety. After everything that had been done that day — two specialists, diagnostic exams, and prescriptions — I was bracing myself for impact. So, I transferred another $300 from my Bangkok Bank account. Was that even enough money? In the end, the total bill for everything came to $79.
I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in. I’ll even write it out for you: seventy-nine dollars!
We're Number One! ... We're Number One?
The sheer irony of my medical experience was, well, staggering. The first vertigo attack happened in Seattle. Had I walked into Northwest Hospital and said I was a little dizzy. I doubt anyone would have escorted me directly to an ENT specialist and then, 18 minutes later, to a neurologist, as had happened at RAM. More likely, I would have had to make a future appointment with the primary-care doctor I had seen three years earlier or go through the emergency room.
The bill would not have been handed to me on a single sheet of paper, either. According to UW Medicine’s price estimator, the two specialist consultations alone could have cost approximately $1,270. That would have been before any additional tests, imaging, or medication. Going through the emergency room would have introduced another set of astronomical charges.
By comparison, I had walked into RAM Hospital without an appointment, seen two specialists, undergone diagnostic examinations, received prescriptions, and left less than three hours later. The total cost was $79.
Ironically, I suffered through a month in Seattle, flew back to the other side of the globe, and then received the care I needed in under three hours.
So, tell me, does the US have “the greatest healthcare system in the world?”
Don’t forget to check out Diane’s YouTube channel: Ate Diane at Sacred Heart Cathedral
Thank you for watching/viewing our blog/vlog!