Look for the Helpers

This morning I’m reminded of the Fred Rogers (aka Mr. Rogers) quote: “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

I’m currently in Thailand on trip to visit a friend, Carmela, who lives here for her 45th birthday celebration. It’s the first time in my own 45 years that I have travelled solo, though to be fair, some of her other friends arrived two days after me to the same hotel. I’m not truly alone, although I’ve been adventuring on my own since my arrival. A snorkel trip to Koh Toa and Koh Nuangyuen. A scuba dive at Sail Rock. And trying every restaurant’s version of pad thai within walking distance of my hotel.

And an adventure it has truly been. Despite the trials I’m about to describe, I have been divinely supported with helpers to assist at the ready. A lesson in allowing support from others? A reminder to take care of my physical form? Trusting that no matter what, I’ve got both unseen and human helpers keeping me safe and cared for? Recognizing in real-time that “pain is unavoidable, but suffering is optional?” I think all of the above (plus more that will come to my awareness as the days progress).

On Thursday, I had scheduled a scuba dive. This was my first time diving without my husband or a friend as my dive buddy. They happened to pair me up with a rescue diver and emergency responder from Germany, whose job can often require diving in lakes of 4 degree temperatures and 5-inch visibility to recover dead bodies. To say he’s an expert is an understatement. If I wasn’t going to have my #1 dive buddy, he was certainly the next best thing.

And it was a good thing, because the day was fairly chaotic. It started with our dive master falling into an open hatch hole in the floor of the dive boat within the first 30 seconds of stepping onto the boat. He slammed his ribs onto the metal edge of the hole and his head on the metal bench beside it. With his permission, I immediately began energy work on him as my dive buddy, Stephen, asked him questions about his injuries.

He was in no shape to dive, so we waited for the owner of the dive shop to attempt to find an alternate dive master. When one couldn’t be sourced, the dive shop owner (JC) became our dive master.

The boat crew looked and acted like they were new to their roles. It was like watching a comedy of errors. They neglected to strap down a few of the oxygen tanks, that flew off their space onto the floor when we hit our first wave. For those who don’t dive, there are many reasons this is dangerous. First and most obvious, they’re heavy and metal, so if anyone is in the way of these flying tanks, it could easily break bones. Second, if it breaks, it could be explosive. This could damage much of the boat, including exploding the other tanks. Third, if you have a crack in the tank you are using this can be life-ending when at depth pressure under water.

My monkey-mind automatically went to questioning how often this has happened and to which other tanks that they might be giving to us.

When we geared up to jump in, Stephen stood up and his tank fell out from behind him because the dive crew didn’t tighten the strap well enough. My o-ring was leaking and I could hear the hissing of air leaving my tank, so I had to do a last-minute swap of tanks because none seemed to have a replacement o-ring.

Visibility was terrible once we got in the water. We regularly lost sight of our dive master leading our group, and what kept me calm and trusting was that my dive buddy was so experienced that I knew no matter what, we’d be fine navigating the route on our own and addressing any underwater issues that may arise.

Once we completed our two dives, we headed back to the dock. Halfway into our 1.5 hour return ride, the engine overheated and we had to stop with the engine off until it cooled down enough to start back up again. This happened twice. In my mind, I heard the theme song from Gilligan’s Island: “A three hour tour…a three hour tour.”

I was grateful I had an expert dive buddy and that despite all the hiccups, we made it back safely.

With the arrival of the remaining party guests, Carmela scheduled for us an ATV ride to a waterfall yesterday. I’d done one in Costa Rica and felt fairly confident I could do so again. So off we went, ATVing through the rainforests to a picturesque waterfall where we swam amongst koi fish.

On the ride back, the back of my ATV fish-tailed and the front went up a slight embankment that toppled the ATV over on top of me. (Thank god for helmets!) My whole right side was scraped up and I was bleeding profusely from my elbow. As two men lifted the ATV off my right leg and helped me up, I was in total shock. I didn’t feel the pain immediately, but the blood was dripping everywhere. I couldn’t think straight and wasn’t in the right mind to know what to do.

The helper appeared. One of the riders in the group, Pat, is a retired fire captain. He carried a first aid kit in his bag. He immediately wrapped my arm in a gauze bandage to stop the bleeding. They put me on the back of the tour guide’s ATV and slowly drove me back to basecamp. Upon arrival, Pat called his wife, Noelle, who was an ER nurse for 32 years. They both lived on the island and knew the ins and outs of the local hospitals.

We drove down the mountain, and Noelle was waiting for me at the tour shop to take me to the local hospital. All the while she was reassuring me that the hospitals here in Thailand are great and the one she was taking me to was private and only 3 years new, so was clean, beautiful, and not very busy (compared to the public hospitals). She also reassured me that healthcare here is not as expensive as in the states (more on that later).

This angel of a human then stayed with me in the emergency room for 5 hours. A total stranger until picking me up, she was my advocate with the nurses and doctors, using her expertise of 32 years to anticipate needs and ask questions. She held my hand through the most painful parts, and explained much of what was happening that I couldn’t understand from both trying to understand the English words with a strong Thai accent as well as could see what they were doing that I couldn’t physically see from my perspective.

Attempting to put my hands together to say thank you (Khop Khun) to the nursing staff and surgeons for their expert care.

The nurses and doctors cleaned my wounds, including extracting many gravel pieces from inside my elbow. They gave me an ultrasound to ensure there was no internal bleeding, then an Xray of my ribs confirmed there was nothing fractured, just extremely bruised. Then they called in the general surgeon for a second opinion about my elbow wound which was deep and wide with not much useable skin to stitch together.

After she extracted more bits of rock and gave it quite a good cleaning, she managed to stich me back together with 4 stiches spaced a bit apart so that the wound could heal from the inside out.

The staff was so friendly, gentle, supportive and quick to act. Despite spending 5 hours there, I was appreciative of the new, sterile environment and the extra care it took for a surgeon to step in where she usually doesn’t.

As the nurses wrapped my entire right leg and right arm with bandages, Carmela arrived with dinner. I had no idea that by then it was 10 p.m. The accident had happened at about 4 p.m.

The hospital sent me home with antibiotics and pain killers. And for all the services provided, my total bill was $775 USD. I don’t even want to know what that would have been in the states.

Bandaged from my toes to my shoulder. They sent me home in the hospital gown.

Noelle drove me back to the hotel and offered to take me back again today to get my dressings re-bandaged and the wounds re-examined for infection, per the doctor’s orders. Like I said, ANGEL!

When I reflect on this experience, yes, of course there is a ton of physical pain AND ALSO so much to be grateful for. Especially the helpers, like Stephen, Pat, and Noelle. Experts in the exact fields that I needed help in who were there at the exact time I needed that particular help. This cannot be coincidence. I believe this is divinely orchestrated.

As humans, we sign up for the whole human experience across the full spectrum. We are going to experience pain across the physical, mental, and emotional levels. That’s just part of Earth School.

AND, if we look for the ways we’re supported in these and through these experiences, we can always find the helpers. We are never truly alone. We are always divinely supported.

This isn’t the vacation I thought I was going to have, AND I trust it’s the one that I need. Maybe I need to rest more and do less. (I had a packed calendar of excursions that are now cancelled.) Maybe I needed to be reminded of the support all around us. The lessons and the understanding will come with time.

For now, I’m grateful that my body is capable of healing itself and I’m so, so, so appreciative of the helpers.