Not a very happy update.
After struggling with her addiction for quite some time now, my wife has finally decided that she no longer wants to be with us. She asked for a separation.
On January 16, 2011, only four days before my 45th birthday, we again discovered she was back on drugs. After a very stressful two days of hysterics, we were able to settle down and I gave Nat yet another chance to stay clean.
On February 20, 2011, only four days before Little Nio's fourth birthday, we noticed that she was once again high on crystal methamphetamine. We were supposed to go visit the dentist for a cleaning following several days of complaining about a toothache. In hindsight, this may be more than just a toothache but the onset of a case of what is commonly known as "meth mouth".
I got home from overtime site visit work that day to pick both mother and son to go straight to Yanhee Hospital, where they have a very good dental department. My intention was to go for a cleaning myself and show Little Nio that going to the dentist can be a fun and exciting experience.
However, as soon as she got into the back seat of the car, I noticed all the telltale signs and I confronted her with the question. She denied that she was back on drugs, but within ten minutes she admitted that she was on drugs and she didn't care what I thought about it. When I said that we should go to a hospital, She refused and threatened to jump out of the car in the slow moving traffic. I calmed her down and said that we would all go out to dinner and that we would talk later on at home. I needed her to calm down so that she wouldn't upset our son, and so she wouldn't do anything that might lead to an accident where someone might get hurt.
She settled down, but even with the earbuds on, you could still hear the bad pop music blaring from her battered iPod nano. Her head was down, bouncing erratically to the beat of the music. I knew she wouldn't pay attention to where we were going next, so I changed direction and drove off to Sri Thanya Hospital. This is a government run hospital with a psychiatric ward. She has been to this hospital on four previous occasions, the first of which was on November 2, 2009.
I remember that it was raining that night. Not heavily, but enough that I had to get the umbrella out when we parked. Umbrella in one hand and leading our son across the road holding my other hand, I had no way to shepherd Nat up to the hospital lobby. As soon as she got out of the car and found her bearings, she exploded into an angry tirade. "Why did you bring me here!", was her howling lament. I explained that she needed some medical help, and that we would only get a sedative to calm her down.
My attention was divided between keeping Little Nio calm, convincing my wife to come up into the lobby and speaking to the hospital staff who had come out to see what the commotion was all about. In the end, I brought Little Nio up into the lobby out of the rain, and slowly explained to the hospital staff that I needed help with my wife. I asked them if they could gently bring her into the hospital emergency psychiatric ward for attention. One male orderly agreed to do so, but as soon as Nat saw him emerging from the lobby doors, she briskly walked away in the light rain.
By that time it was quite dark already, almost 7:00 in the evening. We walked over to a uniformed supervisor and explained to him our predicament. I described her as a thin young woman, with long hair, wearing a white sweater with black stripes and jeans. I don't know if it took them two minutes or twenty minutes, but I saw a number of hospital staff follow in the same general direction Nat took when she left. One of them was on a motorcycle. Time passed and Little Nio and I kept watch by the main doors anxiously peering out into the dark.
One of the hospital staff came up to me and said that they had found a woman who fit the description, and he asked us to follow him around the side of the main building down to the back loading area. Sure enough my wife was there surrounded by several male staff members dressed in hospital white and deep olive green for the security guards. She was sitting on a grassy patch on the kerbside leading into the loading area. Her limbs were splayed out in an odd angle and she was sobbing hysterically. My first concern was that they might have hurt her, but they reassured me that no one had touched her. Little Nio had started crying at this time, but I quickly reassured him that everyone present was here to help his mommy.
We eventually got her on her feet and one of the orderlies gently helped lead her back to the main entrance lobby to the emergency psychiatric ward. She was still wailing and sobbing, crying out in a hoarse voice, accusingly, "why did you bring me here?". Each time she raised her voice one of the senior security staff would tell her in a low stern tone to keep her voice down.
They settle her down onto a wooden bench with built in restraints, but I ask that they not tie her down. She is too weak and disoriented to get up and go anywhere, so one of the security men simply sits beside the only exit doors. Little Nio and I struggle with their admissions desk to establish who she is and what she is doing here. My Thai is conversational and ill equipped to explain what is going on and what needs to be done. I can neither read nor write in Thai, making me technically illiterate, which makes things all the more challenging.
It takes more than an hour, going back and forth with phone calls to Nat's family trying to speak directly with the hospital admissions staff. Finally, I pull out the calendar on my iPhone and help their staff in the records section trace back her case folder. We've recovered her records, but now there is no doctor available at the emergency ward and I have been told that the doctor on duty is doing the night rounds.
By this time, Little Nio is starting to get hungry. I leave my mobile phone number with the hospital staff and explain that we are going someplace nearby so that I can feed my son. They are very understanding and reassure us that Nat will be in good hands.
I have no experience in this neighborhood at all, so I am very grateful that I invested in a Garmin GPS. I do a search for nearby shopping areas and restaurants and successfully find a familiar mall nearby, Big C. They are bound to have some safe decent parking areas under roof and more importantly some decent food. We arrive there and Little Nio wants to eat at McDonald's. So much for decent food, but he's been through a lot already and I decide to cater to the whim and give in to his request. We finish our meal and do a little window shopping when my phone rings. It is the hospital and they want us back.
We return to the hospital and my wife is calmly sitting in the waiting area and there are a couple of women doctors finally prepared to discuss her case. We go over the history of her case and review recent events. I am as open and as honest as I can be about everything. My narrative is as objective as possible, limited to what has happened and I try very carefully not to color this with my interpretations of events.
The more senior doctor shares with me that my wife's addiction may only be a symptom of something even deeper. She tries to get more of a history of her childhood, but I can only relate what little my wife has shared of her past growing up. Again, it is difficult to tell the doctor about what has actually happened and separate it from my wife's interpretation or my own. However, the truth of the doctor's statement rings true — the substance abuse may be only a symptom of a deeper problem that has its roots in her childhood.
It is almost 9:00 in the evening. We are all very tired. Little Nio is worn out and the novelty of the misadventure mixed with the excitement of what has transpired is wearing thin. The woman doctor advises me that it is best that my wife is confined at Sri Thanya hospital and asks me for permission to do so. I tell her that it is not my decision alone, but should be something that my wife or my sister-in-law, Pa Kut, can agree to. Obviously my wife does not want to be confined, but after a phone conversation between Pa Kut and the doctor it is decided that Nat should be confined for a few days.
I pay for a confinement period of only three days, which later on gets extended to two weeks. Nat is eventually confined from Sunday evening, 20-Feb-2011 until Saturday, 05-Mar-2011.
From the main building the male intern walks my wife to the female dormitory, which is a five minute walk to the back area of the hospital compound, over to a cluster of low rise buildings. He is able to convince Nat that she is only going to go get a check up and an x-ray. Little Nio and I follow behind them along poorly lit cracked sidewalks and cheap terrazzo corridors.
When we get to the common ward a young nurse patiently reviews the history of my wife's case yet again. The male intern leaves us. We are sitting outside the building in a corridor with a makeshift reception desk and the mosquitoes are coming to feast. My patience has all but vanished, but I am too exhausted to loose my temper. Besides the young nurse is pretty, pleasant and polite. She is only doing her job, so I play along and go through the entire question and answer routine yet again. We sit under the sterile glow of bad fluorescent lighting as Little Nio grows more and more impatient and frustrated. He is momentarily distracted by the nurses' pet pug who peeks out of one of the windows near their faux admissions area.
Another group of more senior and formidable female nurses usher my wife into the ward interiors. They explain to Nat that she needs to put on hospital clothing for the x-rays to work properly and all her belongings will be returned later on. This was the very last time I saw my wife. They emerge not ten minutes later with all of my wife's material possessions complete, including her clothes and wedding ring, all in a small bundle stuffed into a white plastic bag.
I shell out another one thousand baht for Nat to use as a living allowance fund, just in case she needs to purchase personal toiletries or snacks. This is the same allowance system used up in the Khon Kaen rehab center.
The pretty nurse guides us back towards the main parking lot. Little Nio is asking me questions about his mother, and I try to explain as best as I can. "Mommy did something bad and now she is very sick. She cannot stay with us because the doctor said she needs to get better first". He asks me if his mommy is bad and I say, "no, your mommy is not bad, but she chooses to do bad things".
We drive home.
Showing posts with label Drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drugs. Show all posts
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Here We Go Again, July 2010
Came home earlier this evening to be confronted with the reality that my wife, Kanittha, is back on drugs again.
She had been acting up again for the past few days, but I never really thought to do a check of her bathroom until today. She had been going to sleep very late and was loosing weight again. Her skin, while looking better had started showing signs of fresh cuts and scabbing where she had been scratching herself raw again.
When I took a good look at everything I found, I realized that this had not been going on for only a few days. From the looks of things, this is about a week or two weeks of junk.
I also discovered a small tin that used to be for breath mints, but inside were seven empty small resealable plastic bags. Elsewhere in her stash I found two more identical plastic bags, but these two were not empty.
So, this is what crystal methamphetamine or "ice" looks like. My first face-to-face encounter with the enemy.
After I found her stash I confronted my wife and told her that our house is a drug-free home and that there is no room for a person who takes drugs in our house. There is only room for a good person, a good wife and a loving mother. If she chooses to take drugs then she should take her paraphernalia with her and leave the house. I phoned her elder brother, Khun Rin, and quickly informed him that my wife was back on drugs again, and that I did not know what to do with her, but that she was not welcome to stay if she was high on drugs.
I thought she would cave in and feel extreme remorse and ask for forgiveness. She just went into a screaming fit, took the paper bag of drug paraphernalia and left the house. She didn't even have any slippers on when she walked out of the house. She was only wearing some shorts and a sleeveless blouse. She left the house at around 6:00PM.
I phoned up my employer's wife, P'Lek, hoping she might know of a good policeman that might be able to talk some sense into my wife. She didn't know of anyone. Then my boss, Donal, returned the call and advised that I should make sure that there is a neutral third party present to witness what is going on. He also gave me the number of the police (191) and the tourist police, just in case things get messy.
At approximately 6:20PM one of the maids of the village, Pa Nhu, saw her sitting and crying near the spirit house behind the main clubhouse. Both the maid and I went and saw my wife there, but she quickly left us when we approached her. I informed the security supervisor of what was going on, he was in the middle of doing his rounds on bicycle turning on the village street lights. I also informed him that I needed to see some records of visits to our home when I was away at work. I had heard that an old beat up green car has been visiting our house, and that my wife had let a tall thin man come visit her in our home.
I returned home to make sure that our son, Little Nio, was able to take a bath and get some dinner.
After dinner at around 7:00 PM, I prepared a bag with a change of clothes and underwear for my wife, her wallet, her citizen card and her mobile phones. I did not leave any house keys inside her bag as I do not want to leave that flank exposed. I also prepared a pair of purple slippers and a red raincoat, all of which I left on the small bench in our driveway. I took the photographic evidence shown above and I then went out to see if I could find her. She was no longer at the spirit house.
About an hour later I spotted her from our second floor balcony window trying to come into our house gate below. It was locked so she was attempting to scale over it, but when she realized I was watching she went away again. By the time I was down on the ground floor, she had already left. Shortly after this particular incident I noticed that a taxi had come to pick up our next door neighbor who was going to catch a flight overseas. This bit of information might be handy in getting corroborating evidence for my timeline later on.
At approximately 9:35 PM, I left the house again to look for her. I came across my wife sitting on a park bench near the fountain in front of the village clubhouse. She was speaking to one of the village security guards. He was asking her if anything was the matter, and she replied that there was nothing wrong and she was about to go home. It was then that I walked up behind them and invited her to come back home. She got up, still holding her bag of drug paraphernalia, and hurriedly walked away without a word to me. I then turned to the security guard and confided that she was not herself and asked that the security team keep an eye out for her well being.
It is almost 1:00 AM of the following day. It started raining heavily at around 11:00 PM last night. I have a towel prepared downstairs just in case my wife decides to come back to us. I love my wife, but right now, this woman is someone completely different.
She needs to choose to do the right thing, but she's chosen her bag of drugs and left us after I presented her with her options.
She had been acting up again for the past few days, but I never really thought to do a check of her bathroom until today. She had been going to sleep very late and was loosing weight again. Her skin, while looking better had started showing signs of fresh cuts and scabbing where she had been scratching herself raw again.
When I took a good look at everything I found, I realized that this had not been going on for only a few days. From the looks of things, this is about a week or two weeks of junk.
I also discovered a small tin that used to be for breath mints, but inside were seven empty small resealable plastic bags. Elsewhere in her stash I found two more identical plastic bags, but these two were not empty.
So, this is what crystal methamphetamine or "ice" looks like. My first face-to-face encounter with the enemy.
After I found her stash I confronted my wife and told her that our house is a drug-free home and that there is no room for a person who takes drugs in our house. There is only room for a good person, a good wife and a loving mother. If she chooses to take drugs then she should take her paraphernalia with her and leave the house. I phoned her elder brother, Khun Rin, and quickly informed him that my wife was back on drugs again, and that I did not know what to do with her, but that she was not welcome to stay if she was high on drugs.
I thought she would cave in and feel extreme remorse and ask for forgiveness. She just went into a screaming fit, took the paper bag of drug paraphernalia and left the house. She didn't even have any slippers on when she walked out of the house. She was only wearing some shorts and a sleeveless blouse. She left the house at around 6:00PM.
I phoned up my employer's wife, P'Lek, hoping she might know of a good policeman that might be able to talk some sense into my wife. She didn't know of anyone. Then my boss, Donal, returned the call and advised that I should make sure that there is a neutral third party present to witness what is going on. He also gave me the number of the police (191) and the tourist police, just in case things get messy.
At approximately 6:20PM one of the maids of the village, Pa Nhu, saw her sitting and crying near the spirit house behind the main clubhouse. Both the maid and I went and saw my wife there, but she quickly left us when we approached her. I informed the security supervisor of what was going on, he was in the middle of doing his rounds on bicycle turning on the village street lights. I also informed him that I needed to see some records of visits to our home when I was away at work. I had heard that an old beat up green car has been visiting our house, and that my wife had let a tall thin man come visit her in our home.
I returned home to make sure that our son, Little Nio, was able to take a bath and get some dinner.
After dinner at around 7:00 PM, I prepared a bag with a change of clothes and underwear for my wife, her wallet, her citizen card and her mobile phones. I did not leave any house keys inside her bag as I do not want to leave that flank exposed. I also prepared a pair of purple slippers and a red raincoat, all of which I left on the small bench in our driveway. I took the photographic evidence shown above and I then went out to see if I could find her. She was no longer at the spirit house.
About an hour later I spotted her from our second floor balcony window trying to come into our house gate below. It was locked so she was attempting to scale over it, but when she realized I was watching she went away again. By the time I was down on the ground floor, she had already left. Shortly after this particular incident I noticed that a taxi had come to pick up our next door neighbor who was going to catch a flight overseas. This bit of information might be handy in getting corroborating evidence for my timeline later on.
At approximately 9:35 PM, I left the house again to look for her. I came across my wife sitting on a park bench near the fountain in front of the village clubhouse. She was speaking to one of the village security guards. He was asking her if anything was the matter, and she replied that there was nothing wrong and she was about to go home. It was then that I walked up behind them and invited her to come back home. She got up, still holding her bag of drug paraphernalia, and hurriedly walked away without a word to me. I then turned to the security guard and confided that she was not herself and asked that the security team keep an eye out for her well being.
It is almost 1:00 AM of the following day. It started raining heavily at around 11:00 PM last night. I have a towel prepared downstairs just in case my wife decides to come back to us. I love my wife, but right now, this woman is someone completely different.
She needs to choose to do the right thing, but she's chosen her bag of drugs and left us after I presented her with her options.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Falling, February 2010
Not very much to say about this episode.
After a very long conversation, my wife finally admitted that she had fallen back to taking drugs.
Above is a photograph of her drug paraphernalia that she surrendered to me. A converted glass cosmetics bottle with a makeshift pipe made from drinking straws. Several disposable lighters with the tops removed to better control the flames used to cook the crystal methamphetamine and convert them to vapors that can be inhaled. There was another makeshift bottle that I threw away because it made me really sick to my stomach. The seal she had used for that particular bottle was made from one of the bottle nipples of our son.
Making all these up is not very difficult, but it takes some determined effort to get all the bits together. Every single one of the bits and pieces needed to create this kind of drug paraphernalia can be resourced from everyday household items. So trying to control and monitor the raw materials necessary to make these would be next to impossible.
She had been displaying very erratic behavior and was noticeably thinner again. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was experiencing some terrible dreams. There was also that telltale scent in her sweat, very very subtle and almost undetectable, metallic, sweet and slightly cloying.
She got the drugs from acquaintances a few days ago. They passed by our house to pay her back money she had loaned them several months back. In lieu of cash, they offered her a small packet of crystal meth. My wife is a recovering drug addict and cannot be exposed to that kind of temptation. It was simply too much for her and she was not able to fight her addiction.
I have never met these acquaintances of hers, but from what I gather this friend is the mistress of an ex-police officer who is supplying the drugs. It's very difficult to figure out their identities because everyone goes by a very common type of nickname and no real names are used.
She's now on a bus heading up country with her older brother, Khun Rin. She refuses to go back into the drug rehab center in Khon Kaen, so the best we can manage with her is for her to stay up in her home province of Sakhon Nakorn with her family.
Little Nio and I are on our own again.
After a very long conversation, my wife finally admitted that she had fallen back to taking drugs.
Above is a photograph of her drug paraphernalia that she surrendered to me. A converted glass cosmetics bottle with a makeshift pipe made from drinking straws. Several disposable lighters with the tops removed to better control the flames used to cook the crystal methamphetamine and convert them to vapors that can be inhaled. There was another makeshift bottle that I threw away because it made me really sick to my stomach. The seal she had used for that particular bottle was made from one of the bottle nipples of our son.
Making all these up is not very difficult, but it takes some determined effort to get all the bits together. Every single one of the bits and pieces needed to create this kind of drug paraphernalia can be resourced from everyday household items. So trying to control and monitor the raw materials necessary to make these would be next to impossible.
She had been displaying very erratic behavior and was noticeably thinner again. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was experiencing some terrible dreams. There was also that telltale scent in her sweat, very very subtle and almost undetectable, metallic, sweet and slightly cloying.
She got the drugs from acquaintances a few days ago. They passed by our house to pay her back money she had loaned them several months back. In lieu of cash, they offered her a small packet of crystal meth. My wife is a recovering drug addict and cannot be exposed to that kind of temptation. It was simply too much for her and she was not able to fight her addiction.
I have never met these acquaintances of hers, but from what I gather this friend is the mistress of an ex-police officer who is supplying the drugs. It's very difficult to figure out their identities because everyone goes by a very common type of nickname and no real names are used.
She's now on a bus heading up country with her older brother, Khun Rin. She refuses to go back into the drug rehab center in Khon Kaen, so the best we can manage with her is for her to stay up in her home province of Sakhon Nakorn with her family.
Little Nio and I are on our own again.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
On Turning 44, January 2010
I turned forty-four this year and my wife didn't even remember it was my birthday that day. Friends I hadn't heard from or even seen in years took the time out to greet me via Facebook. Family called from Manila, and even my colleagues at the office actually greeted me. My wife was completely oblivious because of her condition, which has not been getting any better at all.
Her body is releasing toxins through her sweat, which then comes in contact with the scars on her face making them burn. So she scratches her face, which it turn makes the scars even worse. The entire right side of her face has abrasions caused by repeated scratching and it is looking much worse than when she first returned from the rehab center. It's almost as if she's fallen from a moving vehicle on to asphalt and she's used her face to slow down.
If there's one thing I learned about getting older, it's that we don't always get any wiser. My wife is going through a lot, so forgetting something that happens only once a year isn't really a big deal when you step back and take in the big picture.
Speaking of stepping back and taking pictures...
Here's a series of photographs of Little Nio sporting a red baseball cap that was a gift from my officemate, Khun Somsak, when he came back from Beijing. The cap doesn't really fit him, but it looks adorable with the rest of his outfit. He looks cute and he knows it.
Little Nio is a real character. He's got a lot of personality and he is so full of life that he is so much fun to be with all the time.
A thoughtful moment at the office. Little Nio comes with me when I have to come to work on the weekends. Once he's interested in something he can stay preoccupied for quite a while.
After going to the office we stop by Fortune Town to grab a few movie titles before heading back. Something catches his eye on our way up the escalators... it's a huge construction site. We spend a few minutes watching the big construction machines moving around. From this distance they look like his little toys.
I don't know exactly what it is about our connection, but because we spend so much time together I know exactly what he wants, what catches his attention and what he is trying to communicate. Right now, it's mostly about him wanting to be understood rather than trying to understand other people, but it doesn't curb his enthusiasm about exploring things and figuring things out.
Back at home, Little Nio tries to get some attention from his Mommy. She's not doing too well and even with a controlled constant temperature with the air conditioning on, she swings from either being too hot, or feeling too cold. Her mood swings are very erratic as well.
Back again at Fortune Town, we have a favorite Japanese restaurant on the basement level that serves gyoza. One of Little Nio's favorite dishes. He can finish off two orders of gyoza all by himself. That's ten pieces in case you want to keep count.
He's becoming picky about foods and it is starting to get challenging to get him to eat vegetables. Unfortunately he doesn't seem to have a problem with snacks and sweets.
Here's Little Nio with a peach flavored lollipop thoughtfully studying a kinetic water sculpture. There's a pump that gets the water up to the spout, which in turn drops down to make all sorts of things happen like a "Rube Goldberg" machine. It's a great example for demonstrating causality and fluid dynamics, but I suspect it might be a wee bit advanced for a two year old.
Later that evening we stop by Prachaniwet Market on our way home to grab some street food for dinner. We finish off a bowl of egg noodles before heading back home. Here's Little Nio relaxing on the bench that the motorcycle taxi gang's use as their hangout. He's unfazed by the tough neighborhood, and the local toughies seem to have a soft spot for him and he's welcome to sit with them.
Her body is releasing toxins through her sweat, which then comes in contact with the scars on her face making them burn. So she scratches her face, which it turn makes the scars even worse. The entire right side of her face has abrasions caused by repeated scratching and it is looking much worse than when she first returned from the rehab center. It's almost as if she's fallen from a moving vehicle on to asphalt and she's used her face to slow down.
If there's one thing I learned about getting older, it's that we don't always get any wiser. My wife is going through a lot, so forgetting something that happens only once a year isn't really a big deal when you step back and take in the big picture.
Speaking of stepping back and taking pictures...
Here's a series of photographs of Little Nio sporting a red baseball cap that was a gift from my officemate, Khun Somsak, when he came back from Beijing. The cap doesn't really fit him, but it looks adorable with the rest of his outfit. He looks cute and he knows it.
Little Nio is a real character. He's got a lot of personality and he is so full of life that he is so much fun to be with all the time.
A thoughtful moment at the office. Little Nio comes with me when I have to come to work on the weekends. Once he's interested in something he can stay preoccupied for quite a while.
After going to the office we stop by Fortune Town to grab a few movie titles before heading back. Something catches his eye on our way up the escalators... it's a huge construction site. We spend a few minutes watching the big construction machines moving around. From this distance they look like his little toys.
I don't know exactly what it is about our connection, but because we spend so much time together I know exactly what he wants, what catches his attention and what he is trying to communicate. Right now, it's mostly about him wanting to be understood rather than trying to understand other people, but it doesn't curb his enthusiasm about exploring things and figuring things out.
Back at home, Little Nio tries to get some attention from his Mommy. She's not doing too well and even with a controlled constant temperature with the air conditioning on, she swings from either being too hot, or feeling too cold. Her mood swings are very erratic as well.
Back again at Fortune Town, we have a favorite Japanese restaurant on the basement level that serves gyoza. One of Little Nio's favorite dishes. He can finish off two orders of gyoza all by himself. That's ten pieces in case you want to keep count.
He's becoming picky about foods and it is starting to get challenging to get him to eat vegetables. Unfortunately he doesn't seem to have a problem with snacks and sweets.
Here's Little Nio with a peach flavored lollipop thoughtfully studying a kinetic water sculpture. There's a pump that gets the water up to the spout, which in turn drops down to make all sorts of things happen like a "Rube Goldberg" machine. It's a great example for demonstrating causality and fluid dynamics, but I suspect it might be a wee bit advanced for a two year old.
Later that evening we stop by Prachaniwet Market on our way home to grab some street food for dinner. We finish off a bowl of egg noodles before heading back home. Here's Little Nio relaxing on the bench that the motorcycle taxi gang's use as their hangout. He's unfazed by the tough neighborhood, and the local toughies seem to have a soft spot for him and he's welcome to sit with them.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Fifteen Days, December 2009
It has been fifteen days since my wife, Kanittha, has been in the rehab center up in Khon Kaen.
Little Nio and I are doing well. We manage, but I would be lying if I said things have been easy. Things have been very difficult for us both, but we manage. I'm not sure that Little Nio knows what is going on, or if he misses his mother, but I know that I miss my wife.
Our regular daily schedule has us waking up at six in the morning. I run a bath for him and double check to make sure that his day bag, prepared the night before, is squared away properly — four bottles of milk, two bottles of sterilized water, a full pack of wet wipes, four diapers, plastic bags, a spare set of clothes and some cloth diapers for wiping his nose. This should be enough to last the day. It takes a bit of effort to get him out of bed and into the bath, but if he wakes up nicely he can be very cooperative. If he's not really awake or grumpy, it's like moving a heavy bag of potatoes.
Once in the bath things go fairly quickly. There's the expected resistance to getting wet initially. Then, once thoroughly soaked in the tub and enjoying himself, there is the resistance to get him out of the water. Drying him up and getting him dressed is a challenge since Little Nio does tend to run around quite a bit. Get the cream to prevent diaper rash on him, followed by a layer of powder to prevent chaffing and help keep him cool. Followed closely by putting on the disposable diaper are his shirt and trousers. Dressing him up is actually very easy, he only needs a bit of guidance to get all the limbs placed into the right holes of the clothing. By next year, he should be dressing himself up, I think.
I give him a chance to run around and play with a few things while I clean up the bathroom, make the bed and tidy up the bedroom. Once everything is put in to some semblance of order we go down to the second floor. I switch on the television for a wee bit of cartoons while I go downstairs to get him his breakfast. I make sure to bring down the empty bottles from the night before so that our household help can wash and sterilize these used bottles. Once Little Nio is settled down to breakfast, I rush to get showered and changed myself. That doesn't take too long as I usually prepare things the night before and it's almost an automated process.
At every stage of getting ready, I sneak out to see what Little Nio is doing. Get out of the shower - check on him. Finish brushing teeth - check on him. Get dressed - check on him. Stuff pockets with all sorts of stuff (wallet, handkerchief, keys, etcetera) - check on him. Samuel also comes to keep him company.
By the time I'm done, Little Nio is just about done with breakfast and I have a moment or two to make sure that he's eaten enough. I clean him up, put the family room in order and take down the breakfast dishes and our bags. He usually follows down by himself, but I make sure he's holding on to me or the handrail properly.
Little Nio gets his own shoes off the shoe rack and puts them on by himself. By this time the front door is open and I'm loading our bags into the car. My gear in the rear, all his stuff in front with him in the front passenger seat securely strapped in to his car seat.
Huge debate about that being the best place for a child, but when it's just the two of us in the car it's really difficult to tend to him when he's sitting in the back while I'm driving. This way he can see where we are going, what's going on and we can even have little conversations about all the lousy drivers in Bangkok.
On the elevated toll way there are a lot of motorcycle traffic police stationed at every on/off ramp and when Little Nio spots them he yells out "POO-LEE-KAH!!!" repeatedly, which translates as "police car". Even though there isn't a car in sight, or even if it is a lone policeman standing at an intersection, they are all collectively lumped under the term "poo-lee-kah". He will continue yelling this out at the top of his lungs until I acknowledge that he's spotted them. He'll be quiet until the next junction where there are more policemen stationed.
By the time we get to the last traffic light before his stop, I have time to make a quick call to the day care center, Fullakids, so that they can send someone down to fetch Little Nio from the car.
Once he's at the Day Care, I can then start my regular work day. Some days I manage to have lunch with him. I walk over from the office, pick him up, then we walk together to find some place to eat. Sometimes it will be simple like a bowl of noodles from the sidewalk vendors, other times we will sit down at a nice restaurant across the street from my office building. On a few occasions we even walk all the way to a big department store, Central Chidlom, spend time in the toy section and then grab something simple to eat. After lunch I walk him back to the day care center and continue my day.
At the end of the work day, I will come by to pick him up then we walk back together to the office where the car is parked. Walking back with Little Nio is an adventure in itself. He is a master of "lollygagging", the aimless meander with only a vague intention to get led back to the parked car. He will stop to inspect everything. He will wave to all the familiar faces along the way and he will try to make friends whenever he meets a friendly smile. He will check uneven paving blocks, stomp at fallen leaves and point animatedly at any vehicle that catches his imagination. It takes me two minutes to get to his day care from the office, but it sometimes takes fifteen minutes to get back.
Once we finally reach the building we get invariably dragged into the grocery at the ground level, Villa Market, where we usually grab a snack for Little Nio and do some last minute shopping. He is very popular with all the ladies who are at the cash registers, not only because he is cute but because he is such a character. By the time we get into the car and start our drive home it is almost six in the evening. Some days even later than that.
If we are hungry and I know that there is nothing to eat at home, or I am out of energy to prepare anything myself, then we will make a stop for dinner along the way home. One favorite place is the Suan Lum Night Bazaar, where they always have lots of good things to eat and a lot of things to see.
With traffic and dinner behind us we get home at about eight in the evening. This give us just enough time to put our things away and prepare his bag for the next day — four bottles of milk, two of water, four disposable diapers, two cloth diapers for wiping, plastic bags for soiled clothing, and a spare change of clothes. Then it's time for the evening bath. We try to do this as quickly as possible, but that doesn't always work. He enjoys himself in the bath and also enjoys getting chased out of the bath dripping wet, but once he's in his night clothes he slowly starts to change into low gear. He'll do a bit of playing and watch some television while I take care of my own thing, and he does pretty well on his own but I do keep an eye and an ear open just in case.
By ten at night we are usually in bed. Some days I get lucky and we are under the sheets by nine in the evening. Other days are not so good, and even though we are in bed Little Nio is still wide awake at midnight. The only thing that seems to work for him is switching the channels over to "Chic Channel" which has a show called "Midnight Fashion" that features scantily clad women modeling lingerie and swimwear. Little Nio calms down, takes his bottle of milk and settles in to watch the bikini beauties prancing around and he eventually drifts off to sleep.
And then we start the day all over again.
Little Nio and I are doing well. We manage, but I would be lying if I said things have been easy. Things have been very difficult for us both, but we manage. I'm not sure that Little Nio knows what is going on, or if he misses his mother, but I know that I miss my wife.
Our regular daily schedule has us waking up at six in the morning. I run a bath for him and double check to make sure that his day bag, prepared the night before, is squared away properly — four bottles of milk, two bottles of sterilized water, a full pack of wet wipes, four diapers, plastic bags, a spare set of clothes and some cloth diapers for wiping his nose. This should be enough to last the day. It takes a bit of effort to get him out of bed and into the bath, but if he wakes up nicely he can be very cooperative. If he's not really awake or grumpy, it's like moving a heavy bag of potatoes.
Once in the bath things go fairly quickly. There's the expected resistance to getting wet initially. Then, once thoroughly soaked in the tub and enjoying himself, there is the resistance to get him out of the water. Drying him up and getting him dressed is a challenge since Little Nio does tend to run around quite a bit. Get the cream to prevent diaper rash on him, followed by a layer of powder to prevent chaffing and help keep him cool. Followed closely by putting on the disposable diaper are his shirt and trousers. Dressing him up is actually very easy, he only needs a bit of guidance to get all the limbs placed into the right holes of the clothing. By next year, he should be dressing himself up, I think.
I give him a chance to run around and play with a few things while I clean up the bathroom, make the bed and tidy up the bedroom. Once everything is put in to some semblance of order we go down to the second floor. I switch on the television for a wee bit of cartoons while I go downstairs to get him his breakfast. I make sure to bring down the empty bottles from the night before so that our household help can wash and sterilize these used bottles. Once Little Nio is settled down to breakfast, I rush to get showered and changed myself. That doesn't take too long as I usually prepare things the night before and it's almost an automated process.
At every stage of getting ready, I sneak out to see what Little Nio is doing. Get out of the shower - check on him. Finish brushing teeth - check on him. Get dressed - check on him. Stuff pockets with all sorts of stuff (wallet, handkerchief, keys, etcetera) - check on him. Samuel also comes to keep him company.
By the time I'm done, Little Nio is just about done with breakfast and I have a moment or two to make sure that he's eaten enough. I clean him up, put the family room in order and take down the breakfast dishes and our bags. He usually follows down by himself, but I make sure he's holding on to me or the handrail properly.
Little Nio gets his own shoes off the shoe rack and puts them on by himself. By this time the front door is open and I'm loading our bags into the car. My gear in the rear, all his stuff in front with him in the front passenger seat securely strapped in to his car seat.
Huge debate about that being the best place for a child, but when it's just the two of us in the car it's really difficult to tend to him when he's sitting in the back while I'm driving. This way he can see where we are going, what's going on and we can even have little conversations about all the lousy drivers in Bangkok.
On the elevated toll way there are a lot of motorcycle traffic police stationed at every on/off ramp and when Little Nio spots them he yells out "POO-LEE-KAH!!!" repeatedly, which translates as "police car". Even though there isn't a car in sight, or even if it is a lone policeman standing at an intersection, they are all collectively lumped under the term "poo-lee-kah". He will continue yelling this out at the top of his lungs until I acknowledge that he's spotted them. He'll be quiet until the next junction where there are more policemen stationed.
By the time we get to the last traffic light before his stop, I have time to make a quick call to the day care center, Fullakids, so that they can send someone down to fetch Little Nio from the car.
Once he's at the Day Care, I can then start my regular work day. Some days I manage to have lunch with him. I walk over from the office, pick him up, then we walk together to find some place to eat. Sometimes it will be simple like a bowl of noodles from the sidewalk vendors, other times we will sit down at a nice restaurant across the street from my office building. On a few occasions we even walk all the way to a big department store, Central Chidlom, spend time in the toy section and then grab something simple to eat. After lunch I walk him back to the day care center and continue my day.
At the end of the work day, I will come by to pick him up then we walk back together to the office where the car is parked. Walking back with Little Nio is an adventure in itself. He is a master of "lollygagging", the aimless meander with only a vague intention to get led back to the parked car. He will stop to inspect everything. He will wave to all the familiar faces along the way and he will try to make friends whenever he meets a friendly smile. He will check uneven paving blocks, stomp at fallen leaves and point animatedly at any vehicle that catches his imagination. It takes me two minutes to get to his day care from the office, but it sometimes takes fifteen minutes to get back.
Once we finally reach the building we get invariably dragged into the grocery at the ground level, Villa Market, where we usually grab a snack for Little Nio and do some last minute shopping. He is very popular with all the ladies who are at the cash registers, not only because he is cute but because he is such a character. By the time we get into the car and start our drive home it is almost six in the evening. Some days even later than that.
If we are hungry and I know that there is nothing to eat at home, or I am out of energy to prepare anything myself, then we will make a stop for dinner along the way home. One favorite place is the Suan Lum Night Bazaar, where they always have lots of good things to eat and a lot of things to see.
With traffic and dinner behind us we get home at about eight in the evening. This give us just enough time to put our things away and prepare his bag for the next day — four bottles of milk, two of water, four disposable diapers, two cloth diapers for wiping, plastic bags for soiled clothing, and a spare change of clothes. Then it's time for the evening bath. We try to do this as quickly as possible, but that doesn't always work. He enjoys himself in the bath and also enjoys getting chased out of the bath dripping wet, but once he's in his night clothes he slowly starts to change into low gear. He'll do a bit of playing and watch some television while I take care of my own thing, and he does pretty well on his own but I do keep an eye and an ear open just in case.
By ten at night we are usually in bed. Some days I get lucky and we are under the sheets by nine in the evening. Other days are not so good, and even though we are in bed Little Nio is still wide awake at midnight. The only thing that seems to work for him is switching the channels over to "Chic Channel" which has a show called "Midnight Fashion" that features scantily clad women modeling lingerie and swimwear. Little Nio calms down, takes his bottle of milk and settles in to watch the bikini beauties prancing around and he eventually drifts off to sleep.
And then we start the day all over again.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Tragedy & Recovery, November 2009
This is a difficult post to write, but as this is supposed to be an online journal for our family, sanitizing it isn't really going to help anyone.
"The truth shall set you free."
Speaking of things sanitary, before all the drama unfolds, we would like to report some success on the potty training front. Here's Little Nio trying the big chair on for size. We're still trying to find one of those combination toilet seats that has two sizes in one.
My wife's medical condition took a terrible turn for the worse. Over the span of a month, we saw her lose weight from 42 kilograms (92.4 lbs) down to about 34 kilograms (74.8 lbs). Her skin condition deteriorated dramatically in the course of less than a week. And to top it all off, her mind and spirit were also affected.
She was given to fits of erratic behavior that turned from argumentative to violent. She was seeing things, claiming to have acquired a second sight, and she was also hearing voices that were supposed to be spirits protecting her. She would stay awake all night for several nights in a row, and then sleep during the day when I would be at the office.
Some time in late-August, my wife claimed that a hex or black magic spell had been placed on her by an acquaintance of hers, a friend who would come to the house to visit. My wife doesn't enjoy going out so she prefers to entertain friends at home. Several of her girl friends would come over to spend the day and sometimes it would become a sleep over. They'd be gossiping, joking around, laughing, listening to music, playing cards, cooking, drinking and eating. All very normal and innocent.
A week or so after all this weirdness started, my wife already suspected this person. Apparently the other girls in her group felt "funny" about her, knowing that she has a streak of this sort of strangeness about her. I found Kanittha in the bathroom at the lavatory with tweezers pulling what looked like thin spidery threads from the index fingers of both hands. She was shaking and bleeding where the tweezers had broken the skin on her finger joints. She asked me to help her look for anything strange in our bathrooms. Rather than question it all, I agreed to search. We found a wad of white gauze stuffed inside the shower drain tied up with dark thread (or hair) and inside were some small black cobbler nails (about 8mm long, square pointed wedges with a wide flat head). It looked like there were bloodstains on the gauze, but it may just as well have been rust. I'm not going to let my imagination get the better of me. Having worked on countless construction sites, I have found all sorts of junk stuffed into drains and bits wedged unceremoniously into P-traps. But this was just a shade more than I was used to, given everything else going on.
Almost a month into all this I find my wife speaking in a dialect in not-quite-her-own-voice again in the bathroom. This time she's got rouge on an old sock over her hands and she's rubbing it all over the toilet seat cover, turning the white molded plastic a shade of red. And it subsequently exposed some very strange scratches and what might be construed as symbols. In the construction industry, when materials are packed and stacked, then delivered to site and not properly protected prior to handover... stuff gets scratched all the time. So what I saw could be one thing and with a bit of imagination could be something else entirely.
So it turns out that this woman who is "attacking" my wife has allegedly got the "hots" for me and is trying to break up our marriage. For a moment there I stop worrying about the weirdness and start laughing at the stupidity of it all.
A few days after that, my wife terminates the services of our household helper. To make a long story less boring... apparently there is a connection with this helper of ours and the woman "attacker". And then there's this female taxi driver who apparently is also in cahoots with them... her car was the one spotted in the security videos while we were at the hospital. My wife knows this female driver from a few years back and frequently uses her cab to run errands when I'm at work and can't drive for her. She uses her because she feels safe traveling with another woman, the taxi is clean and well maintained and the driver is a very cautious one. But I doubt we'll be calling on her again.
All in all there were about a half-dozen people who are implicated in all this... and I honestly think that they are clueless to all these goings-on. I think in her weakened state, my wife's fragile grip on reality has created this really convoluted conspiracy.
We have had some high ranking monks come to the house for a blessing ceremony. A four-hour chanting session, clouded in incense, followed by a light drizzle of holy water (the Buddhist variety, not the Christian flavored version). We've also had some doctor/professor/shaman woman come to the house to perform another sort of cleansing ritual.
On the other side of this, we had also gone to a hospital for blood tests and had seen a skin specialist. The tests came back normal and clear, and the dermatologist was pretty much stumped.
We had some pretty fancy banner type things with impressive symbols and diagrams on them plastered in different parts of the house. One is blocking the passage of the dead on a south facing wall, another black one with gold writing is at the front of the house supported by a red one with black writing. Then there was a yellow one with red symbols facing to the east to invoke peace. And they all got moved around as needed, like troops on the frontlines. I wouldn't have been surprised if I woke up one morning with something plastered on to my forehead.
About three weeks ago, the story took another interesting turn. Her eldest brother, Khun Rin, shows up one morning unannounced, which I do not think is extraordinary as family is family and they are welcome to come and go as they please. That morning, Little Nio went off to his daycare center and I go off to work.
When we returned home that evening, my wife was again in the bathroom seated on the toilet seat. At first I thought she was on the phone, but then I realized that she was talking to "people" over the "ether". She was animated and in a very engaged conversation with multiple persons, as if she was on conference call. She was very annoyed with me when I interrupted to ask who she was speaking with and said that one of my friends was part of the group currently in communication with her. As if on queue she takes on a concentrated look and speaks into thin air, then turns and says that my friend will call me from his house in about five minutes.
Ten minutes later I decide to call my friend, he doesn't answer his phone. Almost an hour later he calls back and apologizes for not taking my call because he was driving out of town, and confirms that he has not spoken with my wife for the longest time.
It was right after this episode that I was confronted with the grim evidence that my beloved wife was a drug addict. Her brother had found the drug paraphernalia she was hiding. Everyone who knows me, knows that I don't go through the stages of anger-denial-acceptance. I tend to deal with the situation at hand first and then worry about those inevitable stages later on. Apparently she has been on "ice" (methamphetamine) for a couple of years and that the recent effects on her health was the drug abuse becoming more intense. One could say that "love is blind", but the truth of the matter is that I was trusting and very stupid to not have seen any of this.
I've asked myself "how could this have happened?" and "why did she do this to herself?" — it doesn't matter. One could spend countless hours mulling over the variables struggling to rationalize things, but for whatever reason this has happened to us... it is no longer important in the context of what needs to be done.
Reading through the effects of this particular drug, a lot of things fell into place and all the weird mystery began to make logical sense. If you ever have the chance to see this documentary on National Geographic Channel, "World's Most Dangerous Drug", I highly recommend it. The documentary, not the drug. Very informative and powerful stuff that will bring the horrific effects of this drug into startling focus.
To make our situation even more of a challenge, her addiction has almost wiped out our nest-egg savings. Over the years, I have been giving my wife gifts of gold — bracelets and necklaces. This is very standard for Thai culture, where they place a very high value on gold (±96.5% pure gold) measuring it in baht weights, where one baht is equal to 15.16 grams. I would give her one baht gold for Christmas, for New Year, for our two wedding anniversaries, Thai New Year, Buddhist Lent, her birthday, for Mother's Day, for Valentines Day... and sometimes for no special reason other than I had some savings I wanted to stash away for her future. This was supposed to be her gold reserve in the event that something should happen to me and she needed some cash quickly. To simply get to the point — no more gold.
We even had a separate bank account for her where I divert some of my salary to defray household expenses. I wanted her to learn how to run her own home and pay all the many monthly utility bills and assorted day-to-day payments. By the time I realized what was going on, we were behind on almost all the payments, some were in arrears for over two months. It doesn't take much of an imagination to figure out where that money had gone to.
Right now, after paying for all the bills and attending to most of our outstanding debts, I can almost make ends meet. Almost, but not quite. There's still an unknown factor of a week left over in this month that I have no idea how we will manage. I'm not worried though, just curious and slightly anxious. By stretching the imagination I pretend that I can scent a faint whiff of financial liquidity at the end of the month.
Here are a couple of photographs showing the dramatic changes to my wife's condition.
This first photograph was taken about two years ago.
This second photograph was taken a little over two weeks ago. There is a website that holds a collection of photographs similar to these — Faces of Meth.
The next day they brought my wife to a specialist government hospital in Bangkok, where she was given a sedative to quickly counter the effects of the methamphetamine induced high and help ease her through withdrawals. I could not go with them as I had to stay with Little Nio, and bringing him to a place like that was not something I wanted him to experience. She was in a lethargic and near catatonic state coming down from the effects. After two days of trying to convince her to take clean up, I had to bathe her in bed because I couldn't take the stench of the toxins sweating out of her pores.
On the third day after she successfully fought off the worst effects, she started eating again and could now go to the bathroom by herself. We then decided that it was time to get some specialist help.
There is a substance abuse recovery center up in the northeast of Thailand, in the province of Khon Khaen. You can find an online location for this place on Wikimapia and also here on Google Maps. It is a six hour drive up from where we live. Deciding to go there and seek help was not an issue, getting my wife to agree to go there was an effort. Taking the advice of experienced persons in Bangkok whom I knew, it was the general consensus that my wife could not be helped unless she agreed to be helped. It had to be entirely her own decision.
Leaving the house at 2:30 AM and driving on open empty roads we arrive at the center at half past seven. It is still closed and we have to wait another hour for it to open and another hour passes till we get to sit down and speak with one of the resident counselors at the center. It is a heartbreaking experience, but also very cathartic at the same time.
After nearly four hours of discussion and consultation, my wife decides that she is not ready to stay at the center. I am both relieved and disappointed at the same time. The counselor agrees to support the decision on the provision that we return in two weeks time with conditions that need to be met. My wife has to show an increase in her weight, her skin needs to clear up, she needs to be completely off the methamphetamines, she needs to be reading the informational books and pamphlets, she has to be attending support group meetings, and she must show an improved family life. All of these will be discussed when we return to Khon Kaen on Monday morning.
Since that last visit two weeks ago, things have been improving. Having his grandmother around has been great for Little Nio. An extra set of loving eyes and ears around the house has been a blessing. Here's Little Nio have breakfast with his grandmother.
Little Nio strikes a tough gangsta pose on the concourse level of the BTS Skytrain. We had to leave his Mom at home to rest while we went out to get the car serviced (30,000 km maintenance check-up). We need to have everything in top condition in preparation for our trip up to Khon Kaen.
While waiting for the Nissan Service Center to finish up with the checking and maintenance of our car, Little Nio heads off to feed the birds at Chatuchak Park.
Very hot and tiring work, so he decides to take a quick bottle break on a park bench.
On our way back to get our car, we stop in front of the new museum to check things out. Here's Little Nio posing in front of this large sculpture that looks strangely familiar to his own potty pose.
At the end of the day, Little Nio spends time with his Mommy, who is well on the way to a full recovery. It might be several more months before she can recover physically, but it will take years to really work on the addiction. The sad reality is that drug addiction is an incurable disease, and that we will always only be able to deal with the symptoms but never be able to cure. It is the only disease where the afflicted person actually resists treatment. We live with this sickness one day at a time.
"The truth shall set you free."
Speaking of things sanitary, before all the drama unfolds, we would like to report some success on the potty training front. Here's Little Nio trying the big chair on for size. We're still trying to find one of those combination toilet seats that has two sizes in one.
My wife's medical condition took a terrible turn for the worse. Over the span of a month, we saw her lose weight from 42 kilograms (92.4 lbs) down to about 34 kilograms (74.8 lbs). Her skin condition deteriorated dramatically in the course of less than a week. And to top it all off, her mind and spirit were also affected.
She was given to fits of erratic behavior that turned from argumentative to violent. She was seeing things, claiming to have acquired a second sight, and she was also hearing voices that were supposed to be spirits protecting her. She would stay awake all night for several nights in a row, and then sleep during the day when I would be at the office.
Some time in late-August, my wife claimed that a hex or black magic spell had been placed on her by an acquaintance of hers, a friend who would come to the house to visit. My wife doesn't enjoy going out so she prefers to entertain friends at home. Several of her girl friends would come over to spend the day and sometimes it would become a sleep over. They'd be gossiping, joking around, laughing, listening to music, playing cards, cooking, drinking and eating. All very normal and innocent.
A week or so after all this weirdness started, my wife already suspected this person. Apparently the other girls in her group felt "funny" about her, knowing that she has a streak of this sort of strangeness about her. I found Kanittha in the bathroom at the lavatory with tweezers pulling what looked like thin spidery threads from the index fingers of both hands. She was shaking and bleeding where the tweezers had broken the skin on her finger joints. She asked me to help her look for anything strange in our bathrooms. Rather than question it all, I agreed to search. We found a wad of white gauze stuffed inside the shower drain tied up with dark thread (or hair) and inside were some small black cobbler nails (about 8mm long, square pointed wedges with a wide flat head). It looked like there were bloodstains on the gauze, but it may just as well have been rust. I'm not going to let my imagination get the better of me. Having worked on countless construction sites, I have found all sorts of junk stuffed into drains and bits wedged unceremoniously into P-traps. But this was just a shade more than I was used to, given everything else going on.
Almost a month into all this I find my wife speaking in a dialect in not-quite-her-own-voice again in the bathroom. This time she's got rouge on an old sock over her hands and she's rubbing it all over the toilet seat cover, turning the white molded plastic a shade of red. And it subsequently exposed some very strange scratches and what might be construed as symbols. In the construction industry, when materials are packed and stacked, then delivered to site and not properly protected prior to handover... stuff gets scratched all the time. So what I saw could be one thing and with a bit of imagination could be something else entirely.
So it turns out that this woman who is "attacking" my wife has allegedly got the "hots" for me and is trying to break up our marriage. For a moment there I stop worrying about the weirdness and start laughing at the stupidity of it all.
A few days after that, my wife terminates the services of our household helper. To make a long story less boring... apparently there is a connection with this helper of ours and the woman "attacker". And then there's this female taxi driver who apparently is also in cahoots with them... her car was the one spotted in the security videos while we were at the hospital. My wife knows this female driver from a few years back and frequently uses her cab to run errands when I'm at work and can't drive for her. She uses her because she feels safe traveling with another woman, the taxi is clean and well maintained and the driver is a very cautious one. But I doubt we'll be calling on her again.
All in all there were about a half-dozen people who are implicated in all this... and I honestly think that they are clueless to all these goings-on. I think in her weakened state, my wife's fragile grip on reality has created this really convoluted conspiracy.
We have had some high ranking monks come to the house for a blessing ceremony. A four-hour chanting session, clouded in incense, followed by a light drizzle of holy water (the Buddhist variety, not the Christian flavored version). We've also had some doctor/professor/shaman woman come to the house to perform another sort of cleansing ritual.
On the other side of this, we had also gone to a hospital for blood tests and had seen a skin specialist. The tests came back normal and clear, and the dermatologist was pretty much stumped.
We had some pretty fancy banner type things with impressive symbols and diagrams on them plastered in different parts of the house. One is blocking the passage of the dead on a south facing wall, another black one with gold writing is at the front of the house supported by a red one with black writing. Then there was a yellow one with red symbols facing to the east to invoke peace. And they all got moved around as needed, like troops on the frontlines. I wouldn't have been surprised if I woke up one morning with something plastered on to my forehead.
About three weeks ago, the story took another interesting turn. Her eldest brother, Khun Rin, shows up one morning unannounced, which I do not think is extraordinary as family is family and they are welcome to come and go as they please. That morning, Little Nio went off to his daycare center and I go off to work.
When we returned home that evening, my wife was again in the bathroom seated on the toilet seat. At first I thought she was on the phone, but then I realized that she was talking to "people" over the "ether". She was animated and in a very engaged conversation with multiple persons, as if she was on conference call. She was very annoyed with me when I interrupted to ask who she was speaking with and said that one of my friends was part of the group currently in communication with her. As if on queue she takes on a concentrated look and speaks into thin air, then turns and says that my friend will call me from his house in about five minutes.
Ten minutes later I decide to call my friend, he doesn't answer his phone. Almost an hour later he calls back and apologizes for not taking my call because he was driving out of town, and confirms that he has not spoken with my wife for the longest time.
It was right after this episode that I was confronted with the grim evidence that my beloved wife was a drug addict. Her brother had found the drug paraphernalia she was hiding. Everyone who knows me, knows that I don't go through the stages of anger-denial-acceptance. I tend to deal with the situation at hand first and then worry about those inevitable stages later on. Apparently she has been on "ice" (methamphetamine) for a couple of years and that the recent effects on her health was the drug abuse becoming more intense. One could say that "love is blind", but the truth of the matter is that I was trusting and very stupid to not have seen any of this.
I've asked myself "how could this have happened?" and "why did she do this to herself?" — it doesn't matter. One could spend countless hours mulling over the variables struggling to rationalize things, but for whatever reason this has happened to us... it is no longer important in the context of what needs to be done.
Reading through the effects of this particular drug, a lot of things fell into place and all the weird mystery began to make logical sense. If you ever have the chance to see this documentary on National Geographic Channel, "World's Most Dangerous Drug", I highly recommend it. The documentary, not the drug. Very informative and powerful stuff that will bring the horrific effects of this drug into startling focus.
To make our situation even more of a challenge, her addiction has almost wiped out our nest-egg savings. Over the years, I have been giving my wife gifts of gold — bracelets and necklaces. This is very standard for Thai culture, where they place a very high value on gold (±96.5% pure gold) measuring it in baht weights, where one baht is equal to 15.16 grams. I would give her one baht gold for Christmas, for New Year, for our two wedding anniversaries, Thai New Year, Buddhist Lent, her birthday, for Mother's Day, for Valentines Day... and sometimes for no special reason other than I had some savings I wanted to stash away for her future. This was supposed to be her gold reserve in the event that something should happen to me and she needed some cash quickly. To simply get to the point — no more gold.
We even had a separate bank account for her where I divert some of my salary to defray household expenses. I wanted her to learn how to run her own home and pay all the many monthly utility bills and assorted day-to-day payments. By the time I realized what was going on, we were behind on almost all the payments, some were in arrears for over two months. It doesn't take much of an imagination to figure out where that money had gone to.
Right now, after paying for all the bills and attending to most of our outstanding debts, I can almost make ends meet. Almost, but not quite. There's still an unknown factor of a week left over in this month that I have no idea how we will manage. I'm not worried though, just curious and slightly anxious. By stretching the imagination I pretend that I can scent a faint whiff of financial liquidity at the end of the month.
Here are a couple of photographs showing the dramatic changes to my wife's condition.
This first photograph was taken about two years ago.
This second photograph was taken a little over two weeks ago. There is a website that holds a collection of photographs similar to these — Faces of Meth.
The next day they brought my wife to a specialist government hospital in Bangkok, where she was given a sedative to quickly counter the effects of the methamphetamine induced high and help ease her through withdrawals. I could not go with them as I had to stay with Little Nio, and bringing him to a place like that was not something I wanted him to experience. She was in a lethargic and near catatonic state coming down from the effects. After two days of trying to convince her to take clean up, I had to bathe her in bed because I couldn't take the stench of the toxins sweating out of her pores.
On the third day after she successfully fought off the worst effects, she started eating again and could now go to the bathroom by herself. We then decided that it was time to get some specialist help.
There is a substance abuse recovery center up in the northeast of Thailand, in the province of Khon Khaen. You can find an online location for this place on Wikimapia and also here on Google Maps. It is a six hour drive up from where we live. Deciding to go there and seek help was not an issue, getting my wife to agree to go there was an effort. Taking the advice of experienced persons in Bangkok whom I knew, it was the general consensus that my wife could not be helped unless she agreed to be helped. It had to be entirely her own decision.
Leaving the house at 2:30 AM and driving on open empty roads we arrive at the center at half past seven. It is still closed and we have to wait another hour for it to open and another hour passes till we get to sit down and speak with one of the resident counselors at the center. It is a heartbreaking experience, but also very cathartic at the same time.
After nearly four hours of discussion and consultation, my wife decides that she is not ready to stay at the center. I am both relieved and disappointed at the same time. The counselor agrees to support the decision on the provision that we return in two weeks time with conditions that need to be met. My wife has to show an increase in her weight, her skin needs to clear up, she needs to be completely off the methamphetamines, she needs to be reading the informational books and pamphlets, she has to be attending support group meetings, and she must show an improved family life. All of these will be discussed when we return to Khon Kaen on Monday morning.
Since that last visit two weeks ago, things have been improving. Having his grandmother around has been great for Little Nio. An extra set of loving eyes and ears around the house has been a blessing. Here's Little Nio have breakfast with his grandmother.
Little Nio strikes a tough gangsta pose on the concourse level of the BTS Skytrain. We had to leave his Mom at home to rest while we went out to get the car serviced (30,000 km maintenance check-up). We need to have everything in top condition in preparation for our trip up to Khon Kaen.
While waiting for the Nissan Service Center to finish up with the checking and maintenance of our car, Little Nio heads off to feed the birds at Chatuchak Park.
Very hot and tiring work, so he decides to take a quick bottle break on a park bench.
On our way back to get our car, we stop in front of the new museum to check things out. Here's Little Nio posing in front of this large sculpture that looks strangely familiar to his own potty pose.
At the end of the day, Little Nio spends time with his Mommy, who is well on the way to a full recovery. It might be several more months before she can recover physically, but it will take years to really work on the addiction. The sad reality is that drug addiction is an incurable disease, and that we will always only be able to deal with the symptoms but never be able to cure. It is the only disease where the afflicted person actually resists treatment. We live with this sickness one day at a time.
