Old & Fat

As soon as I stepped off the elevator on the Pineapple floor, I was greeted by a receptionist who confirmed my appointment, made sure I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything that would interfere with the tests, fitted me with a plastic bracelet that had my name and a barcode on it, took my picture and issued me an ID card — all within 15 minutes of my arrival. I was then directed to the first pit stop of the Amazing Race Bumrungrad: Section B, the cashier.  

While waiting in the cashier’s office, I was given some medical history forms to fill out which took me maybe 10 minutes. I met with the cashier, who again confirmed all of my information, showed me an itemized list of all the planned tests and examinations and gave me the total price. No surprises there, exactly what was quoted on the website….21,700 Baht (C$868). I paid, got a receipt, and then was directed to the next pit stop, Section C, Vitals and Blood.   Here a registered nurse, a sweet young thing dressed in the traditional white uniform with white hat, drew my blood, took my blood pressure, looked a bit surprised at my blood pressure reading, read my chart, told me to relax, took my blood pressure again, asked me if I had any chest pains, looked at my chart again, and took my pressure a third time, and then said something to the effect of ..."ok, that's better". She smiled and directed me to a waiting area. Nearby was a buffet where, if I wasn’t still on my pre-physical fast, I could have had a coffee, desserts, hummus, tomato salad, egg salad sandwiches, or just about any variety of international food. I was tempted to sneak something, but luckily before I suffered too much, I was called in to see the doctor.

He was a friendly, white-coated Thai middle aged man who spoke good English and, while businesslike, seemed unhurried and interested in his work. He seemed legit with multiple diplomas from western medical schools hanging on his wall. He asked me if I had any special issues that needed addressing and we went over my medical and family history. Then a different nurse came in and assisted him while he did the normal ear, nose and throat examinations. After he finished, he walked me out and said he’d see me again in a few hours.

 The tan yoga pants and loose top
Bumrungrad look

I was then taken across the building where I was outfitted into a pair of quite not too smart-looking tan yoga pants and a loose top. These are worn by all participants in the Amazing Race Bumrungrad. Now that the pricking and blood extraction in section B had been done, I anticipated that the poking and prodding lay just ahead, which explains the necessity of the loose fitting uniform.  It was kind of neat blending in with all the other not-too smart looking tan yoga pants and loose top attired foreigners. I felt as if I had just joined a brotherhood of sorts. 

Next came a blur of different doctors, nurses and various other tests. I quickly lost count of what number pit stop I was at. I just went wherever someone told me to go. The thing I do remember well though is that wherever I was led to, it always seemed that we had to go past the buffet. By mid morning, I would have given my first born for a cup of coffee and an egg salad sandwich. But no, I was told not before I give my urine samples; I have never been so keen on giving a urine sample in my whole life! I was then escorted to where I was given an eye examination. 

After that, I was taken for a chest X-ray and delivered to a long hallway filled with other patients, all wearing the same yoga outfit I was, to wait for my abdominal ultrasound. This is where I had to wait the longest, but not long enough to get bored. I kept drinking water knowing that eventually I would have to give a urine sample. As I sat and looked around, I was struck by the United Nations feel of the place. Here were people from all over the world, people who could probably be treated anywhere they wanted, choosing to come to Bumrungrad for their treatment. Not that I had any doubts before, but this was still very reassuring. An elderly Japanese dude came to sit next to me, and for some odd reason began a conversation with me. His English wasn't good, and my Japanese is non-existent. Anyways, I'm not too sure of what he was telling me but his hand gestures were leading me to believe that he was trying to explain some procedure that he was about to receive. With my very limited Japanese, I really couldn't fully engage in a dialogue with my new found tan attired Japanese brother, but then he did smile and chuckle when I asked him, "Now let me get this straight...they want to insert what in your what!?" 

Because of my comical interlude with my new found soon-to-be-colonoscopied Japanese buddy, my mind was taken off the egg salad sandwiches waiting for me at the buffet, and after 20 minutes, I was finally called for my turn at the ultrasound machine. I had never had an ultrasound before, and with my full bladder and all the poking, pressing and prodding, it was the most uncomfortable part of the whole experience. Finally, it was over. I was directed to give urine and stool samples, and we all know how delightful of an experience
that can be. Well, I didn't because it was my inaugural stool sampling experience, and no one had ever told me how the procedure was supposed to be executed. They just handed me two small plastic containers, and directed me to a washroom. I guess my grey hair led them to believe that I was an old pro at stool sampling. Luckily, on the back of the toilet stall door, there were instructions on the whole stool sampling operation. Just goes to show that you are never too old to learn new tricks; I'm a strong advocate of life-long learning. After dropping off my samples at this tiny little door in the wall, I was then directed to the section where one gets the “exercise stress test.” But, but, what about the egg salad sandwiches?!!

After having patches of my chest shaved and wired with electrodes, I was put on a treadmill and told to walk. I could see the monitor where my heart rate and blood pressure were being monitored. My blood pressure was climbing fast to a point that the technician kept asking me if I was getting chest pains. Nope I said, everything was fine. Should I continue, I asked. Yes, she said. Then, two other technicians joined her and they seemed to all be intrigued by what they were seeing on the monitor, spoke softly in Thai, probably saying something like let's see how far this guy can go before his head explodes...so I thought to myself. The head technician told me to stop. I asked her if everything was ok and actually told her that I was a bit surprised that she kept me on that thing even thought my pressure was sky high. She reassured me that everything was ok and the doctor would be explaining everything to me at the end of the testing. Then she said what I had anxiously been waiting to hear all morning...I could change back to my street clothes and go eat. Sounded really good to me after fasting for the past 16 hours. I quickly changed into my clothes and proceeded to the buffet. Ahhh, that first sip of coffee tasted really really terrific!

View of the buffet from the waiting area

I ended up being called to meet with the doctor before I could even savour my fourth cappuccino and plate of falafel. We went over the numbers. The doctor said overall I was in good condition, but the last page of the report mentioned the thoracic spondylosis and the atherosclerosis of my aorta, to which I asked the doc what should I do to remedy this. He downplayed it by saying it was just normal 'aging'. OK, what about my high blood pressure? He told me I could do with losing a few pounds.   Other than that, I should just keep doing what I was doing. So there you have it, 6 hours of getting pricked, poked, and prodded, and $868 later, I get told that I'm old and fat.