Finding My Doctor in Thailand’s Chinatown
Plus rooster alarm clocks and the super-star vet who saved my cat
This is the latest of many personal dispatches on culture, healing, and spirituality from a dual Canadian-American living in Thailand. Find popular free essays here and access to the rest of Sober Soulful (including the Sobriety Series) by upgrading here:
Before I begin, thank you so much to those who left kind wishes and thoughtful questions on my last update. The comments on these personal posts have created a beautiful, safe space, and I’ve been so grateful to feel your support. Thank you!
Today, I’m covering:
How I found my Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor from two decades ago and how he helped heal the serious illness I developed upon arriving in Thailand
Western and Traditional Chinese Medicine treatments I received, including how costs and care in Thailand compare to those in Canada and the States
Moving back into a lovely house on a quiet lane (except for those roosters)
A health scare involving one of my cats (and finding a vet who saved the day)
More pictures!
I hope you enjoy it. As always, you’re invited to ask about anything else in the comments.
Disclaimer: Although I’m a Doctor of Traditional Chinese Medicine, nothing that follows is medical advice.
Now, about those roosters.
As planned, we moved back into our previous rental house on a quiet cul-de-sac. Quiet, that is, except for rooster “alarm clocks” at dawn. The cats and I adore waking this way; Randy, not so much.
But—after a month in a dark, cramped hotel room—all four of us were delighted to return to a spacious, light-filled two-story home. The neighborhood is Thai, not touristy; my bedroom overlooks treetops and rooftops; and we’re a two-minute walk from the outdoor market where we buy our meals. Along with roosters, we hear the wildest bird calls with the day’s first light. The cats and I love it!
Dawn playlist, with one of my cats singing backup (don’t worry, she’s fine):
I start Thai language school later this month and am grateful to be heading into that adventure feeling settled, healthy, and happy. And know what? I am happy. It took a minute to process how things have changed since I lived here two decades ago, but Chiang Mai is still magical and still has the spirit of the place I knew from before.
Are there more crowds and modern conveniences? Yes. Is there a level of homogenization and so-called progress that isn’t my thing? Also yes. But the aliveness and intensity of life, the juxtaposition of profound and profane, the particular flavor and flow of Thai culture—it’s still here. Being here, I feel home.
Dr. Wang to the rescue
Oh, man, I was so sick last month! But one day, in my flu-altered state, desperately wandering around Chinatown, I found my Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor from two decades ago. He’s originally from China, has no website, speaks minimal English, works wonders. When I found him, it felt like a miracle.