old asia hands

Feel like my body is breaking a part, achy and stiff as I stumbling along the crusty walkways of central Saigon.   My legs mostly are a big problems but shortness of breath is a show stopper on some days but not always.  

The vision I have of myself trudging along is somewhat common of those vintage westerners who hang out in the Pham Ngu Lao area, half drunk until a suitable place is found to become fully drunk.
  

Though I haven't been  drinking, my condition will improve, consulted a doctor before leaving the states, shortness of breath is believed to be asthma, which I believe is also exaggerated by a medication the VA prescribed.  The leg thing, all my life I’ve had achy legs but the swollen thing is something new.   Went to FV Clinic here: diagnoses of a mildly venous of the popliteal veins and mildly edema of subcutaneous feet, whatever that means.  The doctor had limited English skills but it didn’t sound life threatening so I’m still here. 

However, it brings the point of health coverage for guys like us.  If you’re over 65 health insurance is expensive here and I mean expensive like hundreds of dollars a month.   Western style health care with no insurance can  also be expensive,  as an example my trip to the FV Clinic cost me, including an ultrasound, doctors consultation, medical devices, etc came to a little over $200.00 and I'm not fixed.

Which brings me back to the old guys drinking the rest of their life away on that alley off of Pham Ngu Lao Street or in 9-23 parks.   Many are Vets, some of the war here and others are guys who just feel through the cracks.  One I know is here because his monthly $600.00 SS check is not enough to live on in the states; he is a Vietnam era Marine Vet. I asked him once what he did for health care because he said he had a stroke, his reply is that he had made friends with a Vietnamese pharmacist   and that was getting him by.  Sad that his life had come to that.

So here I am, kinda stuck in Saigon though it is hot here it isn’t cold or snowing.  I’ve read about sailors who pull into a port and get themselves stuck there, I can understand it now. Nothing holding me back accept me.. So now I’ll try my best to overcome my issues and head out.

Until next time, thanks for stopping by.          Doug

  

The new Saigon built tooth, Vu Thi Thanh Tuyen, DDS installed.

Before

Anyone who knows me knew my old tooth, built in Cebu about 6 years ago.  It was held in place by a metal clip that clamped around a back tooth and was easily taken out or pushed back in place. When in place the man made tooth looked natural enough. However, I enjoyed the look on peoples faces when I would take it out and put it back in, I broke the first factory built one while eating so I always took the Philipino one out of my mouth and put in my shirt pocket when I ate. Just for reference this is a great way to impress women - take your tooth out when you sit down to eat.

After

Anyway, after all this time of playing with my tooth  I finely lost it.   Best guess is that I left it in a shirt pocket and the laundry ate it.  So with a rather large gap in my front teeth I needed a new tooth stat, meaning really fast. Also my budget was very limited and so it had to be inexpensive. So what is a guy to do?

Contact Dr. Tuyen of the Golden Smile Dental Office and she had me in straight away, took an impression, made a color match of the off white of my other teeth.  A day later I came back for a fitting and a half hour later took my new tooth  home.  The new one is all plastic and firmly snaps in place, doesn't depend on other teeth to stay put, fits so well eating is easy but I still like to take it out, a guy has to have fun.

The cost for all this was easily fit into my budget.

You can contact Dr. Tuyen at: Golden Smile Dental Office in Saigon's Tan Bin District, 123/19 Nghia Phat, ward 6  phone: 0903 014 680
tuyen.vu.thi.thanh@clinics.whatclinic.com

motorbike way - Saigon

bikes and a street side food vendor

yup, riding on the side walk

Looking through some of my older stuff on vietnam-now.com  and found this piece on motorbike traffic and though you might enjoy it.  Think it was written  about 10 years ago but traffic hasn't changed all that much, other than we have much more, traffic that is. About twice the  number of motorbikes and what  really complicates things the is the increase in the number of cars trucks and buses.     
         click -  The Motorbike Way


Side bar: In 2011 3.671 motorbikes were registered in Vietnam - compared to 2012 at 3.282 million, and 2013 at 3.272 million. So the numbers of registered motorbikes are declining but still is one hell of a lot of motorbikes and on the horizon auto sales are set to pick up..  All this on unimproved roads originally built for bicycles and ox carts. 

Then it was Vietnam - part 2

Village meeting - Binh Dinh Province - 1967

                     
The war was going strong, with the US committed to adding me along with many others to its expanding effort. Though, as it turned out this didn't do much to change the course of the war as in the not too distant future the US, started scaling back on it's commitment. Then, abruptly pulled the plug on its war effort, walking away from its  multi-zillion-dollar investment, along with a cadre of loyal Vietnamese. Ton Son Nhut Air Base was a good example of the bounty left behind and was recreated by the new North Vietnamese government as one of the two international airports serving Vietnam, the other being in Hanoi. Ton Son Nhut is located about 30 minutes from Saigon's city center, district 1.

Ultimately, as things turned out I ended up in Phu Cat in Binh Dinh Province. A heck of a long way from Saigon but close enough to be regaled with the stories of the goings on in the city from air crews ferrying supplies and personal. Hearing so many of these stories I started to get the feeling I had been there my self.  

From the stories it seemed the fascination for all that experienced Saigon was its ability to morph into whatever role was expected of it. For the war weary young GI's it was a place to have a bunch of Ba Ba Ba's (inexpensive, Vietnamese beer), meet beautiful and fun Vietnamese ladies and for a moment, loosen the vice grip of the life and death realities of war.  While on a more restrained note Saigon was the political capital of South Vietnam, housing the south's military and political leadership, along with the foreign embassies representing nations friendly to the South's cause. Of course it was also ground zero for US Military's Command Group governing operations in Southeast Asia. This was all played out in front of a backdrop of hardworking Saigonese shopkeepers, laborers, and the other ordinary Vietnamese that were the core of the city. All this was stirred into the bubbling mass of affluent Vietnamese business folk, fast buck hucksters, hookers and pimps. It must have been quite a place back then but how about now, 35 some years later.  Well, for me Saigon, Ho Chi Minh City, or whatever you want to call it, while more mellow under the communist regime is still a damn cool place.  

It wasn't until I made my return 15 years ago that I would be able to spend any time in Saigon.  On my year gig in the war, landing in-country at Ton Son Nhat was as close as I  was to get to Saigon. Stretching my be legs after my late morning arrival I stumbled across the base Airman's club where the bartender turned out to be an old friend from my home town.  Man it sure is a small  world. After a beer, ok two, and a bite to eat I was feeling a little more relaxed.  Wished my newly found, old friend well, slung my duffel over my shoulder, orders in hand and headed back out to the flight line in search of a ride to Quin Nhon, listed as my new duty station.

Right off, I found a friendly C130 crew chief who offered up a hop to Quin Nhon. That is, if I could give them a hand rolling off a jeep at an airstrip along the way.  

You know that old saying - "the devil is in the details" and in this case, the details were in our pilot's attempted landing on one of those temporary, metal-grating landing strips, while someone or someones on the ground were shooting up at us! 

All the while the pilot continued on his approach, the tail ramp door was opening as the crew chief struggled to get the jeeps wraps off. While I made a feeble attempt to help with one hand and  with the other holding a death grip on a exposed section of the bulkhead. As I'm thinking "screw this damn jeep," and struggling to keep my balance the pilot abruptly pulled up in preparation for a second approach. Meanwhile, the crew chief was back to taking care of the jeep as the pilot lined us up for a second pass.  He drags himself over to my bulkhead and hollers in my ear, "Get ready, this time the jeep is out of here and so are we" As we made our approch I strained to see out and get a look at our landing path, the metal corrugated strip was pock marked and hardly visible through the grass that had over gown it but the area appeared deserted (emphasis on appeared).  The rest was a blur as we fell over one another, kicking the damn jeep out.  Not sure if we were actually on the ground when it finally rolled off, but we had done our job.

The chief comes over and says "Welcome to Vietnam" and I'm thinking, "as a supply sergeant I don't think I'm supposed to be doing this kind of stuff ".  An hour or so later we landed at Quin Nhon, the second leg of what turned out to be a three leg trip to my new duty station.   

To be continued:

(link to part 1)  

Thanks for stopping by..

from beyond - Doug's on going stomach problem and the VA

"From beyond"  that would be California. Here I am, stomach still a problem and  reading my visa statement, yikes, did I Really spend all that while thinking I was living low budget lifestyle on my travels.  Though, still the stomach problem and my leg and hip are still not 100% but improving.

At one point I tossed my recovery of my stomach issues into the VA's (Veterans admin.) hands and now I better understand the complaints people have lodged against them. It started off well with an appointment date within a reasonable time period. When I arrived for my appointment the nurse and then the doctor and I had a long discussion about my life in Saigon and SE Asia before we got around to stomach talk, then the  usual doctor drill.

She recommended a CAT Scan of my abdomen in the hope of identifying an underlying problem. A few days later someone from from the lab contacted me about an appointment. I found the CAT Scan was fast and easy but the ramp up to it was icky, as I was given a pitcher of what they called Kool Aid, isn't that they called the stuff that took out the folks in the Jonestown massacre, one glass every 30 minutes until the pitcher was empty, then the CAT Scan and different than Jonestown I survived.

So a few days later I called for a follow up appointment with my doctor to discuss my test results and a plan of treatment.  The telephone lady advised me that this kind of thing was handled via phone but I insisted I needed an appointment the tela appointment lady rung off promising a nurse would call within a few hours about an appointment. I knew she lied and so I set the phone down and called the imaging dept to make sure they were open and mounted up for the VA where I had the test. Weird, when I arrived the main entrance was locked so I patiently waited for someone  to come out and then slipped in before the door could close and made me way to their reception desk.  Waited for someone to show up and when someone did I told them I needed the CAT Scan results for Douglas Rice and rattled off my SS number.  Though I was pretty sure the guy I was talking to wasn't my man but I made friendly small talk about the military and life.  Soon an older lady, my age old, showed up asking what was going on,  ah ha, I could tell she was the man and she was.  Within 20 minutes I not only had a copy of the report but a disk with the scan on it.

Sent one copy to my primary care doctor and he called the next day and explained the finding of the CAT Scan to me, still no word from the VA.  Anyway Dr. Fong found nothing of any major importance in the scan but recommended an gastroenterologist.   Meanwhile, I was due for my annual cardiologist visit so l set that up along with the gastroenterologist, man a lot of doctors.

The Gastroenterologist didn't seem impressed with my problem or the results of the CAT scan.  However, he though my stomach wasn't emptying properly, wrote me a prescription to try (expensive) and sent me to another imaging place for a stomach emptying test.  This is an all day test - feed you radioactive egg beaters and every hour slide you into a tube where you hear a bunch of whirring and rumbling that they say are the pictures being taken. When I asked about when the results would be available, the techheto t replied "no news is good news".


Okay on to the cardiologist, reviews the scan and decides this problem I have is not my stomach but is heart egina so on to a heart stress test.   It's a test where they compare the movements of a resting heart to a working heart directly off of your work out on a treadmill. 7 minutes, ending in a phase 3 full uphill run and no problems detected.  With that the good news is that my stomach pain isn't my heart.

So I'm still left wondering about my spending habits feeling good about my leg and hip improving but still the stomach problem.   All this time and money on doctors and tests and the only relief I get is from peppermint oil, Gaviscon and rum and coke but not all together at the same time.    My money issues, still no resolution  but by fall I'll be back in the Thailand /Vietnam region of SE Asia one way or another.

Thanks for stopping by - Doug

Doug has a stomach problem

Haven't posted much lately as I've been distracted with an ongoing stomach malady,which acts up when I'm sitting or laying down and is especially bad starting about 10:30 PM.  Of course I don't do much writing lying down so logic would dictate I could work around it but because I'm sleeping very little at night, evening  is prime time for writing.  Then I have to deal with the sitting and the feelings of anxiety and that is "the rest of the story".   

No, not acid reflux, but a pressure and ensuing  pain that radiates through my abdomen, then up and up, sometimes even bringing tears to my eyes.  Visited doctors in Sai Gon, Bangkok and here in the states with little success in finding relief.  Some try and treat me for acid reflux, others look reflective and come up with homeopathy cures like "peppermint oil".  Meanwhile, I revert to my work around of Gaviscon, ruhm and coke (not all together) and walking around until a burp or fart loosen up my system.

Now I'm going to share something with you, 45 years ago at Phu Cat, Vietnam - every night (okay, not every night but it seems that way now) charlie would start a fire fight with our gun tower by the main gate next to my hut.  The rat tat tat of our 50 cal with the back up of small arms, along with the wooch of mortars were my night time lalaby's.  No serious damage seemed to come of these exchanges so it just became a part of my night life, so I thought I had it handled but maybe not.  

You read and hear all this bad press about the VA but my doctor and her nurse are interested not only in my adventures but in helping me figure out this problem.  Next Tuesday (6/24/2014) they have me scheduled for a CAT scan of my stomach. Of course when you're pushing 70 as I am your nervous about tests like this, you want to fix the problem but all the options that can effect this is worrisome.  

Meanwhile I've got part 2 of photos of Saigon and I'm working on something on Thai politics and an update to the effect of martial law in the kingdom.

Street side sandal repair - 

California cultural shock - re-edited

Always the talk of cultural shock of first arriving in Indochina but  now a days, for this old Asian hand, it's even more of a cultural shock arriving back to the United states.

Always, have problems adjusting when I first arrive back but this time my adjustment was a bigger deal than usual. Part of the problem was when last back, nine months ago, my focus was on finding relief from the pain of my leg injury and dealing with how it affected the overall use of my leg and hip. In other words walking was very difficult. The first two months back were spent hobbling around in relentless pursuit of getting fixed and getting my walk on again. Then once a medical solution to fix my hip was agreed on, I still had the pain and had limited mobility so my time was mostly feeling sorry for my self and complaining ability. Though to break the monotony there were the medical checks and tests to make sure my stent studded arteries were up to the major surgery required to fix things. 

Meanwhile, as the tests wound down I started a  campaign to wiggle my way up the surgery schedule of a two month wait to what ultimately became a wait of a little over a week. I was so focused on my medical issues at this point I could have been in Siberia, ya I know, too warm here for Siberia but anyway hope you get my point. All test results were go, which brought me up to the surgery of cutting out the old OEM hip and tapping in a newly minted metal and ceramic one.  For a couple weeks after the surgery walking was only something of my dreams but with intense physical therapy and a unbreakable regime of exercise I got my rebuilt leg working. In total it was about four months to get back walking and at that it was with the help of my backup antique cane.  I wasn't until six months after the surgery that I was going again, not running but well on my way to walking normally.  So shortly thereafter I was winging my way back back across the pacific to Saigon. 

At this point I need to share something about the rebuilding of joints, don't rush your recovery.  While in California I had mastered walking the flat, well maintained parking lot in front of my apartment along with the smooth uncluttered sidewalks of my neighborhood and thought my recovery to be, while not really complete but well on the way.  Which had me ill prepared for the unkempt and chaotic pathways of Saigon, riding pillion (passenger) on a motorbike, hustling in and out of taxi's, climbing stairs that  impersonated ladders and doggedly, dodging traffic as I limped/stumbled across streets. 

My original trip plan was to spend time in Saigon, a side trip to Cambodia and then on to Thailand, ending with a flight back to California from Bangkok.  While I did make it to Phnom Penh my time there was mostly spent hanging out in my hotel room, leg and hip were too much of a problem, so I pulled the plug on the Angkor Wat leg (no pun intended) and headed back to Saigon.  At this point I'd had enough, so decided to scratch Thailand and head straight back to California from Saigon. Cathay Pacific had other ideas, simply put - they wouldn't allow a ticket change from Bangkok to Saigon airports, even though in the past they had allowed this numerous times.  So I limped on to Bangkok for a few days and then onward to the states.

About now you're probably wondering about what happened to the original California cultural shock thesis. Get ready, here it comes. As soon I crawled or more like stumbled out of  my temporary airborne home I had inhabited for too many long hours, as we headed over the pacific from Hong Kong to San Francisco, things seemed very different as I entered the SFO. People of large girth and height strode across the expanses of terminal and into the lineup for immigration.  Where the immigration official seemed to take a interested in me, and not in a "I want to bond" kind of way, all the while flipping through my passport and punching keys on his computer.  Baggage on the luggage carousel, mostly sturdy looking suitcases and nari a cardboard box in sight, were pulled off as I headed toward customs with my magic marker marked immigration form in hand.  While burly, very serious looking armed government agents give me that eye. You know the eye, the one that makes you want to confess and throw yourself at their mercy for just living and get it over with. I try to remember that this is first world stuff and you gotta be ever so vigilant unlike the third world shuffle where stuff just happens and people except it.

I'm through customs, just a couple comments by the customs official, unlike the x-ray machine at Saigon's Tan Son Nhat Airport where everything goes through but haven't  ever seen anyone stopped. Outside immigrations, not the throng of waiting families like in Vietnam, no motorbikes or taxi guys trying to drum up business, just a few smokers and loads of cars rapidly driving by. It's chilly out, unlike the heat of Indochina but you see people in shorts and t-shirts. I wonder why, they must be cold, maybe they are poor. My ride finds me and we walk back into the terminal to an elevator that takes us up to his cars parking spot. Before I know it we're speeding along on the expressway at what feels like a 100 miles per hour. As I'm used to Saigon traffic, traveling by motorbike, taxi or bus where 35 miles an hour is traveling all out. We stop at McDonalds for lunch and I'm nervous, so many different nationalities milling about with no oversight. Where as in the new McDonalds in Saigon, ques are organized with people taking orders on electronic pads, all pretty much the same nationality and there is designated staff to assist you personally, even carry your tray if you want and all with a smile. Since arriving back, mentally I've been keeping a running total on costs and thinking that money spent during the morning for parking, gas and food would have had me blowing a weeks budget in Saigon.  Looking around it seemed that no one else is aware of how much money they are spending, as there seems to be an infinite number of five and ten dollar bills on everyone and so no one complains about the cost.

Maybe the Vietnamese I've meet in Sa Gon are right, all American's are rich.  

Now after a month and a half back in the states, I've started to adjust and can drive as fast and crazy as any native Californian and can flash my instant cash card like I wasn't overdrawn at the bank.   Though the big grocery bills and self serve checkouts are still a problem for me, along with the $100.00 it takes to fill the gas tank of my old truck and having to drive my self everywhere seems strange.  However, it is very quiet where I live, but I sometimes miss motorbikes racing by my window and the sound of their horns beeping in the middle of the night.  So I'll be back to Indochina and once back I'll complain about how it's different than California, I'm just that kind of guy.