I walked into the Royal Project shop at Don Mueang Airport
In my mind, I wanted to buy an adogavo
Eh, adogado
Eh, agodavo
Eh, avocado
Oh….crazy, they don’t have it..
I picked up 2 boxes of strawberries, then wandered around and got a packet of Royal Project coffee. I felt nostalgic about it. I used to always have this kind of coffee at home because I traveled often. Lately, even though I travel sometimes, I don’t look at it because it’s a bit too strong, with a lingering bitterness on the tongue
I stumbled upon the vegetable cooler, picked up 2 radishes. Tonight, I’ll blend them fresh. I want to detox a bit. Bangkok is full of toxins. I wondered to myself, can it detox the mind too……………..
The Sex Symposium has a Thai name: “The 3rd National Conference on Sexual Health: Teenage Pregnancy from Strategy to Sustainable Practice.” How long is that name? It was organized by the Thai Health Promotion Foundation and several major organizations. I can’t remember them all, just the Thai Health Promotion Foundation because they paid me. They invited me to lecture on “A Doctor’s Perspective on Safe Abortion.”
“The name is so old-fashioned, professor,” I told the respected professor who would be moderating my session. He used to be the president of my Royal College of Obstetricians. He said he was afraid people wouldn’t attend.
“Well, with a name like that,” I continued
“So what would you name it, Pae?” he retorted
“Doctor, help me, I’m pregnant,” I suggested
“Oh.. just putting the word abortion in there, the organizers find it hard to accept,” the professor said……………………
“Why don’t you take a mask with you, dad?” My wife was probably worried. She doesn’t want to be a widow soon. Actually, my wife should be somewhat prepared for the “early widowhood” because my family has strong genes. My father had heart disease at 39, and two of my uncles had it in their early forties.
But I’ve already told my wife that I’ll live until 90. I have to see Halley’s Comet before I die. It will come back then. I have to be 90 first. As for her, she’s from a long-lived family. Many elders on her side lived past a hundred.
“Dad will definitely die before mom,” I always say this. Dying before my wife is good because I won’t have to do anything myself. Since we got married, I’ve become quite helpless. Whenever I want something, I call my wife.
In the end, I came empty-handed. I didn’t even bring a mask because I planned it out. Leave the airport, get in a car, get out of the car, walk into the hotel. After the lecture, walk out of the hotel, get in a car, get out of the car, enter the airport. See, I didn’t breathe in any of Bangkok’s pollution………………
Last night, I couldn’t sleep.
Usually, when assigned to lecture on topics like this, I have a lot of information. Lately, I don’t need additional equipment like slides. Just a wireless mic, and I can walk around the room. But for this event, the audience probably won’t include doctors. It’s a social lecture, likely attended by teachers, other public health workers who aren’t doctors or nurses, social workers, and various NGOs.
But I should be able to handle it (um.. I really hate this phrase, “handle it,” it’s kind of creepy)
And after learning from the pilot instructor last week, I told my seniors that I would use the technique they taught me: ask more than lecture, and importantly, write the objectives of the event to be smart.
Couldn’t sleep, I was wide awake since 4 AM.
Probably because I was worried about the format of the speech. I only had 20 minutes (3 speakers have an hour and a half, and time must be left for the moderator and questions). Alright, 20 minutes it is. I should be able to manage, but it made me toss and turn, even dreaming about conducting the lecture as planned.
That’s right, it should be good, right? Because in the dream, the lecture went smoothly.
I allowed time in the morning because I wanted to listen to other topics.
In the afternoon, it started with a discussion on “Education: From Law to Practice”
I listened to 5 senior executives from the ministry talk about managing the administrative system after the enactment of the law on teenage pregnancy. To summarize, the ministry must manage sex education, prepare teachers, and when a student is pregnant, provide appropriate support and referral.
As usual, introductions took up almost 15 minutes. Everyone said the same thing: the Ministry of Education has been doing this for a long time. They’ve prepared everything and done everything for a long time.
Heh, heh, a long time. From what I heard, no one dared to talk about abortion.
“We will tell the kids not to abort, right?” There it is, that uncle said it. I expected it, so I wasn’t surprised. “I’ve been the wedding chairman for kids before,” another uncle added. From what I’ve seen, it’s about being forced to marry.
“The law doesn’t allow free abortion yet, so where will we send the kids?” There it is again, auntie. Free abortion doesn’t exist in a world with accessible services. Besides, kids have been having free abortions for a long time now. Pills are easily available online.
I felt a strange sense of discouragement because, in the end, we make all the decisions for the kids. Have they ever thought or decided anything for themselves? Enough, let’s go prepare ourselves. Focus and concentration are coming back.
There’s my room, 401. The room is full of kids. Huh, full of students!
Oh no… what I prepared last night wasn’t for kids. The content is like Mae Nak Phra Khanong, uterine rupture, intestines scattered. How will the students listen to this? Then I started sweating. I have about an hour to prepare anew since I’m the last speaker.
Pencil and paper were picked up. I thought of the pilot who taught me the other day. Alright, last time I prepared in just 5 minutes. “Hello, I’m Pae.” The first sentence woke people up. That little kid who was asleep since the first ten minutes lifted his head to look.
“Call me brother, because calling me uncle might sound a bit creepy.” This time, I started hearing laughter.
“I only need 15 minutes.” That’s all the time I really had left.
“Then you’ll understand why Brother Pae is standing here.” This is the intro formula I just learned.
“Alright, who are students?” About 30% raised their hands, “Teachers” 6 people, “Social workers” almost ten people.
“The rest must be freelancers,” I concluded.
“Who disagrees with abortion?” All the students and about 20% of the adults in the room raised their hands, including that group of teachers. “Who agrees?” The rest, I guess, because I assessed that no one didn’t raise their hand.
“I will conduct the discussion with 3 questions. Um.. little brother, please time Brother Pae. At 4:35, let me know. I have to return to Hat Yai at 7.” I told that little kid. She was a primary school student, 12 years old.
“First question, what are the options when pregnant?”
“Abortion,” that social worker answered loudly.
“Let the social worker raise them,” the aunt sitting on the other side responded.
The students sat quietly, probably confused.
“Alright, how do women get pregnant?” There were some high school students sitting over there, but they still didn’t have an answer.
“Can you get pregnant?” I changed the question format. The 12-year-old answered
“Can you get pregnant at 16?” Yes, heh heh, the voices started coming. This was going my way.
“What about at 40?” “Yes.” Oh, they even dragged out the sound.
“What about at 48?” “Yes.” “Um, isn’t that too much? At that age, you’d probably vomit a whole baby. That’s menopause, you know.” Laughter started to rise. This time, everyone was awake.
“Some say to go back to school. Earlier, the five adults said to study, take a semester off, and then come back, or transfer to another school.” Many people nodded.
“Honestly, if you had to stop studying because of something like this, how would you feel?” I asked the 16-year-old who seemed interested. When talking about studying, it becomes personal.
“Sad,” she replied.
“Doctor, let me ask you, do you want to graduate with your friends? Do you want to write on your friends’ shirts and have them write on yours?” She nodded.
She said she would feel very sad not to graduate together. She wanted to hold hands with her friends and take pictures on graduation day.
I immediately thought of P’Pang. She refused to go on an exchange program abroad even though she was very smart. “Pang wants to graduate with her friends, not with juniors,” she once explained, and I never asked again.
“And when we tell pregnant kids to continue, take a break, and come back, how many actually return?” Because in my career as an obstetrician, the pregnant kids around my home never want to go back to school. Some do, but I’ve never talked to them after they gave birth.
“When we tell kids to do everything, have we ever asked them what they think? Have they had the chance to choose their path?” The adults in the room both nodded and shook their heads.
I didn’t interpret the meaning because they might be nodding in agreement that they never asked, or shaking their heads because they really never asked.
“We judge them, don’t we?” Laughter echoed.
“Alright, is Dr. Thanaphan male or female?” I asked this, and the room fell silent again.
“Male,” came the loud reply.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Flat.” Huh, what’s flat? That young man gestured to his chest as an answer.
“Has a penis,” one of the boys answered.
“Have you seen it?” More laughter.
“Am I gay?”
“No, because the doctor said he has kids,” a voice from the back answered.
“Oh, having kids means you can’t be gay? I’ve been deceiving the world all along.” There was a cheer.
(Um.. it’s a theatrical flavor, please don’t take it seriously. I graduated with a major in drama.)
“See, we judged that I’m male even though we never knew each other before. We judge people better than seeing the truth as it is.” Isn’t that true? We love, like, hate, and are infatuated because we decide that way.
“And we often judge our kids.” This time, I turned to look only at the adults in the room.
“Alright, back to the second question. If they want an abortion and Brother Pae doesn’t do it, what will happen?”
“They’ll get an illegal abortion,” that young boy, probably in middle school, answered loudly.
“Hey, seriously, do you know how they perform abortions? What is called an abortion? This is a follow-up question.”
This time, the kids couldn’t answer.
“Has anyone ever seen an abortion?” Hey, a kid raised their hand.
“Saw it on the news.” Oh, relieved. That’s called watching the news, not seeing an abortion.
Of course, how could they answer correctly? But this tells us a lot in this answer, because the news these days is like this. Brutal and vile, seen every morning.
This time, I explained to them how “abortion” and “birth” are different, and when I saw the nodding and the eyes of the kids showing understanding, I continued the discussion.
I talked about injuries and deaths.
At first, I planned to tell a horror story, but seeing the audience as small as kittens, I told the story of an 18-year-old who died on the delivery bed, as I told the day before yesterday, and then asked:
“They died, who cried?” I noticed that little girl wiping her tears.
The kids are very sweet. The people who were sad were named one by one. The adults nodded in agreement.
“That’s right, very sad. Let me tell you, in my life, I’ve seen many people die from illegal abortions.” When back to normal mode, Brother Pae came again.
“Some are mothers with kids the same age as you. Seriously, if your mom wanted an abortion to stay and raise you, to let you study, to let you eat well, would you let her have an abortion with a doctor? With Dr. Pae, your mom won’t die.”
“No,” the 11-year-old answered loudly.
“Hey, your mom might die, you know,” the friend next to her nudged.
“Oh really? How could my mom die? My mom isn’t even pregnant,” she was confused about what she answered wrong.
“Yeah, right,” I laughed loudly.
“I don’t have a third question because time’s up. Let’s say everyone now knows what I think about unplanned pregnancies. Injuries and deaths from illegal abortions still exist, but we might not be affected until one day, that person is our daughter.” I thought of a group of people when I said this.
“That’s it, don’t forget to return to the real world. What we just talked about was hypothetical.”……………..
I tried to call a grab car but failed because there were no cars in the area.
Oh my! The traffic is terrible.
I saw a red line on Google Maps, a long stretch of red. So I walked, walked to the front and then figured it out. The kilometer or so walk didn’t take long. Actually, the breeze was gentle, and it was quite pleasant to walk. The air wasn’t too bad, but was it 2.5 microns?
I crossed the overpass to wait for a car in front of the Ministry of Justice. The dust was a bit thick here, but the traffic on this side was moving well.
Got one, comfortable now. I thought to myself, if there were no cars, I might have walked to the airport. It’s only 6 kilometers away………………
“The 3rd National Conference on Sexual Health: Teenage Pregnancy from Strategy to Sustainable Practice throughout the lifespan until eternity.” The name should be this long if you came to listen to the ministry’s little kids’ discussion this afternoon.
The solution to the problem of teenage pregnancy is likely to remain an epic saga, that’s what I think.
But anyway, I think it’s much better than before. We’ve done a lot. The Department of Health, the Medical Council, the Royal College, have done a lot. We’ve come quite far.
Unless there’s another obstacle to trip us up…………..
“Dad, what are you doing?” My little wife came down to ask about my well-being when she saw me in the kitchen instead of rushing upstairs as usual.
“Dad’s going to eat raw radish. I want to grate it like in a Japanese restaurant, but I don’t have one.” That was a musing.
“So I’ll just blend it fresh, with apple, strawberry, orange juice, and banana. That’s enough.” Both the radish and the orange juice should help detox a bit. Detox both the external toxins I absorbed in the evening and the toxins in my mind that cause frustration. It’s therapy.
And then what? It’s spicy, of course. You ask.
Eating raw radish is super spicy and burns the tongue.
Thanaphan Chuboon inhaled PM2.5
28 Jan 19