We had big plans for this winter in Asia. First we’d do a couple of weeks in Kuala Lumpur for Jack to start the process of dental implants, and we’d both do other medical checkups. Then we planned a month in the Philippines, a week or so in Hong Kong, a month in Chiang Mai where we’d catch up with sailing, vanlife, and travel buddies. We’d complete the whirlwind with a month in Sri Lanka before returning to Kuala Lumpur for the completion of Jack’s dental work before returning to the campervan in Ireland in the Spring. Oh, such lovely plans. Where did it go wrong?
Our planned month in Malaysia dragged on as we struggled with scheduling delays and additional pre-op testing required by the implant surgeon. Luckily we hadn’t booked anything but still, we were eager to get going.
Then came the kicker. Last May in Southampton I tripped on uneven pavement and fell hard on my right knee. By late summer I knew I should have it looked at, then decided to wait until Kuala Lumpur, where healthcare is easy to access and affordable. (This is how people think who don’t have universal healthcare. A person in a normal country would just go to the doctor right away and get it checked out.)
While Jack was spending his time at the dentist I consulted an orthopedic surgeon. He only ordered X-rays then told me I had arthritis, that it was normal for my age, and prescribed pain meds. I reminded him that I had an injury and asked whether it wasn’t protocol to order an MRI. He shrugged and said — I will never forget this — even if I had a torn meniscus, no surgeon would repair it because of my age. I’m pretty sure there was steam coming out of my ears when I heard that. After I read him the riot act, he ordered the MRI which showed ACL damage. His opinion was that it was irreparable and I was facing a total knee replacement.
Meanwhile, one of Jack’s three implants failed, which means we can’t complete the process in one go because he has to wait four months before another attempt. We kept delaying the Philippines, but hung on to January in Chiang Mai.
I sent the MRI report to the surgeon in Penang who did Jack’s two knee replacements. He’s a knee specialist and does mostly sports injuries. Within the hour he called me. “Your MRI is terrible!” he said, but assured me that it could be repaired. He recommended a surgeon in KL. “No,” I said, “I want you to do it.”
By this time it was December. We settled on a surgery date, finished with the dentist for now, and took the train to Penang.
The following day I spent in pre-op testing.
When I sat with the surgeon going over the results, he noticed something that troubled him and sent me upstairs to gynecology. An hour later I learned I had multiple cysts on my ovaries and an unidentified something in my uterus. “You need open abdominal surgery,” the gynecologist said. “Now?” I asked. She wouldn’t say.
I had knee surgery the next day, then began rehab.
I also followed up with additional scans on my ovaries, then a second opinion at a different hospital. I ended up in the OR on New Year’s Eve, two weeks after knee surgery. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
We only had a few days left on our visa so Jack spent his days working with the hospital to compile the documents necessary for a medical extension which was granted. We explored options for treatment should it be necessary, but nine days after the surgery we finally got the pathology report. All benign.
We were so relieved and eager to see friendly faces. We met our sailing friend Sarah for lunch in Penang before flying to Chiang Mai to meet up with our sailing and vanlife buddies Flora and Damian. I don’t recommend air travel three weeks after abdominal surgery but I was so glad to get going.
We spent an abbreviated three weeks in Chiang Mai then, because we were so eager for even a small bit of adventure, we decided to go to Sri Lanka for a month.
I’m pretty sure this is a the first time we were guided to our connecting flight this way. Onward to Sri Lanka!
