God Only Knows — Vientiane, Laos | Xmas 2013
“If God only knew.”
“Sorry to wake you… erhm… would you know the owner of this phone?” an unfamiliar voice asks.
“Yes, he is my husband,” says Pan, my wife.
“… Okay… erhm… this is officer Siriphone of the Vientiane Traffic Police, would it be possible for you to come to Mahosot Hospital… erhm… there has been an accident, and… erhm… we need you to identify the body.”
“… What!?”
This is not my moment, when this phone conversation takes place, I’m lying unconscious and unidentified on a stretcher in Mahosot Hospital’s Emergency Room, another hit-and-run traffic victim in Vientiane.
This is the moment of Pan and the people kind enough to help her at this moment of despair, Xmas Eve 2013.
Once it has sunk in what happened, Pan manages to collect herself and tells the officer she will meet him at the hospital. In all the commotion, Jason, our son, has woken up and, as he instinctively feels there’s something wrong, starts crying uncontrollably. She manages to calm him down a bit and makes her way to the hospital.
At the hospital, she is instantly harassed by doctors and nurses, looking for small money — sadly, nothing is done without some small extra compensation in communist Laos — but also because she should not be bringing a four-year-old into the emergency room. Of course they’ve got a point, but what was she supposed to do, leave him at home alone? Luckily, her sister shows up and is able to take care of Jason — the same sister who was there when he was born.
In a corner of the ER, Pan sees me. I’m still unconscious, but that doesn’t seem to stop me from fighting the nurses who are trying to put an IV into me, “GET OFF ME, LEAVE ME ALONE!”
My shirt has been cut open and I’m covered in blood. My injuries aren’t that bad though, I’ve only got a small cut on my left cheek, which is the cause of all that blood, and… my left eye is completely paralysed. It is just staring into nothingness, turned up to the top left corner, the last look before impact.
After he’s been paid some small money, a doctor hands over my belongings and gives his diagnosis, I should be taken to Mittaphab 150-Bed Hospital where they can make a brain scan, something Mahosot Hospital hasn’t got the equipment for. Not sure what to do Pan calls every contact in my phone, including the ones living abroad, hoping to get some help. Despite the late hour, luckily one of my friends answers his phone and agrees to meet her at Mittaphab Hospital to see how he can help.
At Mittaphab Hospital — I’m still unconscious — a brain scan is done and the conclusion is that there’s no obvious brain damage as a result of the crash. But the doctors delivering this news don’t seem very confident and keep contradicting each other. After some more phone calls, it is decided, to the dismay of the Lao doctors, to take me to AEK Udon International Hospital in Udon Thani, Thailand.
An ambulance is called and, upon its arrival, I’m laid — still unconscious — onto a stretcher and rolled inside. Pan joins me in the ambulance, Jason stays behind with his aunt. Thank god I’m unable to hear his desperate cries as the door closes, both his parent inside. With screaming sirens, the ambulance takes off, the Lao-Thai border crossing has already been called to open the gates for a late-night emergency transport.
As the ambulance races full speed over the highway towards Udon Thani, I finally regain consciousness; car sick!
P.S. One of my biggest fears of living in Asia has always been the possibility of being in a traffic accident, what would happen if you’d end up on the side of the road unconscious? Now I know.
I know that I’m one of the lucky few. An accident happened and I found myself surrounded by people who care. Despite their bad reputation, the Lao traffic police, the doctors and nurses in both Laos and Thailand, did the best they could to take care of me. The exception here would be the driver that hit me and didn’t stop, but let’s assume he or she just panicked and didn’t know what to do. (continued below the photo)
Pan, me and Jason, some time after the crash.
Then there are the ones close to me, family and friends. I don’t feel I’ve thanked them enough for their help: thank you Pan, sorry Jason, thank you Andy, thank you Khone, and thanks everybody I sadly don’t remember playing a part during that horrible night and its aftermath as I was unconscious most of the time and, in the end, lost four days of memory.
The Impossible Orchestra. God Only Knows on BBC Radio and Television [simulcast]. London, United Kingdom: BBC Music. (2014)
This autobiographical sketch comes from my bundle In the Moment: A Disjointed Audiobiography which is available at Amazon.com. (USD 9.50 for a paperback or USD 4.50 for the Kindle version)
