A Priceless Christmas Gift

I’ve been sitting a long time in the waiting area of the Eye Center at Bangkok-Pattaya hospital – feeling mild dread and increasing boredom.

Yet another goddamn “health scare.”

And the worst thought: At age 72, guarantee there’ll be more health scares coming – until the really big one, when the doctor says to me, “I’m sorry sir, your cancer is terminal. You have two weeks to live.”

Oh yes, very bad things are likely to happen in what I now consider my twilight decade: heart attack, stroke, cancer . . .

In fact, only several months ago I was visiting this hospital for treatment of prostate cancer.

Thankfully, I was diagnosed before my “fairly aggressive” cancer had spread beyond my prostate, and treatment was successful.

Statistically, I now have a nearly 100-percent chance for survival (for at least 5 years) from this cancer of old men.

Oh how grateful I was after my treatment ordeal was over.

I get to live and fuck another day!

It’s funny, though – how quickly the immense gratitude fades – and you start taking life for granted again.

Still, more often than not nowadays, I approach each fuck as if it might be my last ever.

Now, you could say my latest health scare is minor, almost laughably so.

I had recently noticed opaque, jelly-like wisps drifting in my right eye.

I assumed they must be “floaters,” and looked it up online.

From the Mayo Clinic website:

“Eye floaters are spots in your vision. They may look to you like black or gray specks, strings, or cobwebs . . .

Most eye floaters are caused by age-related changes that occur as the jelly-like substance (vitreous) inside your eyes liquifies and contracts.

Scattered clumps of collagen fibers form within the vitreous and can cast tiny shadows on your retina. The shadows you see are called floaters.

If you notice a sudden increase in eye floaters, contact an eye specialist immediately — especially if you also see light flashes or lose your vision. These can be symptoms of an emergency that requires prompt attention.”

So I had my eyes checked last month in Bangkok while I was on a trip, and was reassured that my eyes were OK.

But in the last few days, I noticed an occasional flitting “flash” of light in my right eye.

I knew that seeing flashes of light could mean a possible detached retina.

“A detached retina occurs when the retina is pulled away from its normal position in the back of the eye. The retina sends visual images to the brain through the optic nerve.

When detachment occurs, vision is blurred. 

Having a detached retina is a serious condition that can cause loss of vision. Permanent blindness can happen as quickly as a few days.”

Jesus.

I don’t want to go blind!

I freely admit to being a hypochondriac and a cowardly man – been like that all my life.

Naturally I start projecting the worst-case scenario in my mind: detached retina, complications, blind in my right eye,

So I’m sitting in the waiting area of the hospital’s eye clinic. 

I stare dully at a small Christmas tree in front of me with blinking lights.

Another Christmas spent alone.

No big deal. It’s been that way for me for a long time.

On a large overhead TV screen against the wall, a Thai news program is showing the latest gory crimes and traffic accidents, flashing images of bloodied people or corpses on the ground.

I been waiting nearly an hour and a half now, stewing in mild dread and worry, either idly scrolling my phone or scribbling my thoughts in a small notebook:

“Had an older lady motosai driver taking me to the hospital.

We pull onto Pattaya Nua road and I see the long road stretching ahead into a vista of buildings and mountains in the distance.

I feel a sense of déjà vu – how many roads have I passed through alone, in my travels?

I start to cry as I recall the opening lyrics from a Bob Dylan song.

How many roads must a man walk down

Before they call him a man?

The awakened SexMonk. My heart raw, open, vulnerable. OK to cry like this. Purging who I was, my darkness, and isolation — with tears of fire, stinging tears of sorrow.”

An attractive nurse then comes to give me the preliminary screening/eye tests.

I follow her toward the examining room, noting she has a wide big butt, which normally I don’t find appealing.

It’s perfectly OK, I think to myself now.

I can’t expect women to have slim shapely asses, even if looking for a girlfriend.

This young chick’s large ass is normal. Most women have bodies like this.

Accept what is.

The nurse checks my eyes for glaucoma, and has me read from eye charts at a distance. Everything OK so far.

I then see the doctor, who says I need to have eyedrops administered before he can examine my retina.

So I return to the waiting area, where a politely effeminate young Thai man administers 5 eyedrops, spaced 10 minutes apart.

I start ruminating about this polite young gay man, obviously smart, and working a decent job – unlike Pattaya’s ladyboys who sell their bodies – flamboyant, narcissistic, often loud and vulgar – and mildly repulsive to me.

Yes, life is about choices.

On my phone, I idly scroll my old photos of Mai, a spinner masseuse whom I’ve gotten many “happy endings” from..

She is affectionate and hugs me back when I hug her and squeeze her oh-so-tightly. She strokes and caresses me tenderly, like how a girlfriend would.