You’re A Couple Quarts Low There, Buddy

The strange thing about dehydration is how it sneaks up on you - even in humid tropical climates where you wouldn’t think you could dry out it’s just as easy to do as it is in a desert. It affects people in different ways, depending on individual systems and stamina. Mine tends to be able to take a little more abuse, but boy – when it hits, it hits hard.

I’d been out walking around since just past breakfast time and not paying proper attention to my fluid intake while it lay in wait for me, giving me hints that I didn’t notice while enjoying my time wandering around the shops and markets between Day Night and South Pattaya Road, where I’d planned to have a massage before heading back to my hotel.

By 1:30pm the cheeseburger I’d had for lunch wasn’t sitting well, and I chastised myself a bit for eating the fries that were probably cooked in a fat that I knew better than to eat. I had a Diet Coke for lunch and by that time was a few bottles of water short of where I should have been for the day. I wanted water as I walked along, gawking at stalls of fruits, vegetables and everyday items, snapping pictures along the way, but I worried about being overly full and having it reflux while getting my massage, so I didn’t stop for any. In retrospect that was probably what tipped me over the edge.

After the massage I felt as though my batteries were at somewhat less than 50% and I knew I’d better get back to the hotel and rest if I wanted to get out for the planned visit with my Thai friend Dan for dinner or a movie. I was weak on the baht bus, feeling somewhat “ishy” as folks in our family have said as long as I can remember. After hitting the buzzer and slowly getting down off the back of the bus I handed the driver my 10 baht and was, for a moment, actually concerned about getting myself across Thappraya road to the entrance to Jomtien Complex and the Poseidon lobby just 20 feet past that. I stood quite a while gauging traffic in both directions and finally did the shuffle you see any number of older Asian women do when they’re jaywalking. That short, half-hearted jog across the two-lane road nearly did me in, and my whole body cried out in surprise that I’d asked it to do it at all.

As I entered the lobby, Boy was at the reception desk to greet me while doing some paperwork. “How are you?” he asked, and I paused to lean on the counter, pulling my shirt away from my chest a few times to fan myself, saying “hot.” He smiled, as I’m guessing he has a thousand other times when farang have reacted as I had to the heat. It wasn’t especially hot or humid, but I felt much like I’d been through the wringer, nevertheless. As fate would have it, I’d booked myself into a “Junior Suite” that was in the new addition to the hotel, and there was no elevator.

I looked at the base of the stairway and dreaded the steps up to my room on the third floor. I wondered for a moment if I should sit and rest a minute before making the climb but realized I was close to collapse and thought I’d be better off in my room than the lobby if I was going to be involuntarily horizontal for a while. Remembering my old friend Sandra’s account of moving slowly in Thailand and the bicycle rider going so slowly she couldn’t understand how he remained upright on it I began my ascent, as slowly as I possibly could. Five steps to the landing, a turn to the left and the first full flight came into view. Resisting the wheezing that I wanted to do I went up a few stairs and peeked down to where Boy was sitting, looking up to see if I was OK, probably alerted by how slowly I was moving.

On the second floor landing I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it to the room. I think my arms did more working than my legs did as I pulled myself up the last flight and stood panting and dizzy at my door, fumbling with the two keys and swinging the door open with a triumphant feeling one might feel when reaching the top of some Himalayan peak. The hot, humid air from the room rushed forward to envelope me as I reached in and pushed the key fob into the power control, moving more than a little uncertainly to reach for the first of two air conditioning controls, turning the shower/vanity/jacuzzi end of the studio on “high” at 23C and then looked forward down what had previously been a charming hallway leading to the sleeping area that now seemed to be the length of a football field.

I took a few steps along the way and sat down on the daybed, panting and perspiring to take off my shoes. I’d only gone 8 feet, but it seemed like a long way. I sat and tried to will my body into getting up again and after a concerted effort - again convincing myself that bed was a better place at this point - I managed to slowly rise and stagger like a drunken sailor the last 20 feet or so to the bed, pausing to get the TV remote and a large bottle of water from the fridge, guzzling it like the aforementioned sailor along that last 10 feet or so.

Sitting down on the bed I noticed it was just a bit before 4:30 and thought a nap might help snap me out of whatever what happening with me. The tough part was getting my body to turn, lift my legs onto the bed and get horizontal. I just didn’t have the strength to move. I turned on the TV and slowly made my way through the 60 channels of pure unadulterated trash available, finally settling on the worst of the lot: the Pattaya People’s Channel. The man who owns it does interviews of locals and there he was: smile plastered on his face while asking questions of his guest the same way each time. He makes a scripted statement about something and then says “tell us a bit about that.” It’s awful. Worse than awful. The problem is it’s so horrible you almost have to look, rather like an auto accident you pass on the road.

With a supreme effort I make another turn to try and get comfortable, both my t-shirt and underwear damp and clinging to me as I try to move. As I’m settling down I come to the alarming realization that I have to pee, but just don’t have the strength to get up and go. I consider wetting the bed, but soon abandon that – no need paying for a new mattress. I again summoned what strength I had and retraced my path back through the sitting area, past the jacuzzi and into the small toilet enclosure. The smaller than usual amount and the darker than normal color was all the confirmation I needed that I was dehydrated on top of the nasty cold, and I stopped at the fridge and got a second bottle of water, downing most of it as I shuffled back to the bed and once more got myself flattened out, head propped up to face the banality on PPC.

What seemed like a few minutes later I again woke up, needing to pee. In reality it was nearly midnight, and I’d missed my evening out with Dan, too. I felt a lot less dizzy but was still weak enough that I didn’t quite have the strength to give a damn about not getting out that evening. I was steadier on my feet than I was seven hours before and I finished the second large bottle of water on my way to deposit the first one-and-a-half bottles in the hong nam. Although I wasn’t really hungry I knew I should probably eat something, but the idea of the stairs settled that thought and I scrounged around in the fridge and shelves next to them, eating some pomello, a handful of crackers and a few of those small, delicious bananas I’d bought on my walk before my massage before again crawling back into bed, shutting off the TV and checking out for the rest of the night.

Shortly past 7:00 I woke up again, did the bathroom thing and showered before making my way carefully down the stairs, where the morning waiter Toey seemed to know something wasn’t quite right with me. When he asked if I was OK I said “I think so, thanks… just needed more water yesterday.” He seemed to understand, and didn’t seem surprised when I didn’t order much to eat but wanted extra juice and water. He also didn’t bat an eye when I added a little salt to the fruit juice – something that helps us retain the fluids, I’ve learned. I lay low for the rest of the day: reading, writing, watching TV, napping and continuing to re-hydrate myself. That evening I made my way out to meet my friend Dan for a light dinner – including a tangmo (watermelon) smoothie, followed by an easy evening stroll, making it an early night before I returned to my room, had a soak in the jacuzzi and fell into another long, sound night’s sleep.

The next morning I woke up a little before 8:00, feeling hungry but so much better than the morning before. I showered, dressed and went down for breakfast, where Toey greeted me with his usual broad smile, asking “Are you feeling better today?” “Oh, SO much better than yesterday,” I replied, and then ordered my usual breakfast – and two bottles of water.