Capturing an Opportunity: Scootin Our Way To The Hospital

In the midst of my most anticipated adventure yet I was fortunate enough to have my parents take a vacation to the Southern part of SE Asia where I hopped on a plane to catch up with them and spend a few weeks off the backpacker trail. I met my Mom and Dad in Bali, Indonesia. One of the few places that packs-the-punch with many of the main highlights SE Asia has to offer. Nothing is ever easy for the McAllister family and this trip held true to that standard. I would like to share a story that altered this wonderful family experience in a way I would have never imagined. The story starts on the western side of Bali where the three of us were cruising around on motorbikes, mopeds if you will, checking out our surroundings as it was our first full day at our new destination on Bali…

….I pulled off the busy two-way road on my motorbike with my mom saddled to the back and peered behind in hopes to spot my Dad doing the same but there was no sign. My mom and I waited a few minutes thinking he had just been caught behind a big truck as we left the petrol stand a couple kilometers back down the road. As the seconds ticked pops was still absent. My mom and I road back towards the petrol stand to see where he was but still no Dad. Logically thinking my Mom and I thought he might have passed us as we were back-tracking and slipped our vision. After all, my Mom is legally blind (without her glasses obviously) and I was juggling my focus between the traffic in front of me and the passing by scooters. We headed back in the direction of where we had initially pulled over to our homestay thinking he might have stopped there just so we could reconvene. We arrived at the homestay but Dad was still not around. I left Mom at the homestay and backtracked all the way to the petrol station (about 10 KM down the bustling two-way highway) to ask the lady if she had seen my Dad ride off behind us. Uncertainty of the where abouts of my Dad was setting in. So I regrettably sped my way back to the petrol lady passing cars, trucks and motorbikes alike. I reached her in hopes of some explanation. None was given. Her broken English and unwillingness to give me her full attention only made matters worse as all she could do was point and say “man go that way with you!”. Thanks lady. I unsafely buzzed back to the homestay where I saw my mom and was met with five words that still make my stomach uneasy, “Dad is in the hospital”. My head turned to mashed potatoes. My thoughts were jumbled and there were so many questions I wanted to ask I was held silent.

In all seriousness one horrifying statistic popped into my head from Southeast Asia On A Shoestring-Lonely Planet and the dangers of riding a motorbike or any vehicle for that matter in Bali, Indonesia. Because of the economic and tourist boom in Bali upwards of 8 people die a day in vehicle related accidents as there are so many more people on the roads in relation to the amount of dangerous narrow roads. That’s 8 times the rate of the US, Europe and Australia together. Bali also has 6 and a half times the number of people living on it than Seattle, Washington does - so you can understand the bottleneck of traffic chaos it creates.

As my thoughts settled I tried as hard as possible to communicate with the front desk attendants in hopes of getting some details to what had happened. After 5 minutes of bewildering conversation we found out he was at the clinic. Just a ten minute drive down the road (in the direction of the accident and where my Mom and I had pulled over earlier). One of the homestay employees led the way as we rode to the clinic in hopes of answering so many questions and settling my uneasy heart rate.

When we arrived to the clinic we walked around back to find where my Dad resided. Walking past a monstrous 8 X 4 ft window we spotted my Dad inside lying on a bed. Blood covered the majority of his right leg, and a gash directly on his left knee cap was the size of a few golf balls. My thoughts swirled. Mostly thinking of what could be wrong with his left knee as my Dad had just had that knee replaced a few months back so it could be done for, for a second time. By the time we got into the room and stumbled out a few obvious questions the nurses had put eight stitches over the already withstanding scare from the 20 staples and the knee surgery. He was conscious and talking in full sentences so I could breathe just a tad easier. Before we all knew it we were in the ambulance on the way to the nearest hospital with an x-ray machine to x-ray the left knee in hopes that the artificial knee cap hadn’t been busted.

After a chaotic hour long ride in the ambulance he was rushed into the hospital where he was brought into the x-ray room just a few minutes after getting in. That hour gave us all a chance to really catch our breaths and talk to my Dad about what happened. After losing control around a sharp corner my Dad and the motorbike tumbled into a ditch. Since my Dad was in good spirits it wasn’t the severe scrapes on his face, arms, and legs that worried me, it was that darn gash over the replaced knee. It was just a short waiting game now in a hospital that I will never forget.

Even though Bali is the 2^nd wealthiest part of Indonesia and its 17,000 islands, it still resides in SE Asia with very low cost of living and general medical practice still incredibly far behind a western country. The hospital we were in was really something else. It seemed like 2/3 of it was getting remodeled with Balinese men waltzing around in their sandals and tank-tops carrying various machinery all while chain smoking cigarettes. Nothing like filling a hospital with cigarette smoke. Health code risk? What’s that?

Anyway, after the x-rays came back things were only positive. Thank goodness! The knee was still in good shape. If it wasn’t there was a good chance my Mom said that they might have to go home. Something I would never wish upon them. The fact that their beautiful vacation across the world was now ruined. Things weren't all peaches and cream though. Since the stitches were obviously not coming out anytime soon all water related activities were a no-go for my Dad for the rest of the trip. No afternoon dips into the pool or 28 degree ocean swims. And the worse part of it all was no diving or snorkeling in one of the most beautiful places on the entire world to do it. Things 110% could have been worse for my Dad. Although being the former marine biologist that he is, he loves all sorts of underwater creatures. So he’d sadly be deprived from them for this trip.

Three restless nights passed before the open wounds healed enough for him to get a good night’s rest. Once they did the next major concern was making sure the gash in the knee did not get infected. Something that is still up for debate a few weeks later as a few of the stitches are still in the knee as the knee hasn’t healed exactly how he would have liked.

From the time when I heard my Dad was in the hospital till the time I laid eyes on him was one of the more terrifying 15 minutes of my life. No matter how well you keep your composure you still run every realistic situation through your head, something I definitely did. Just because of how crowded and over-run the roads are in Bali and that ridiculous Lonely Planet statistic about fatalities everyday (a statistic I can’t help but believe. I mean come on, its Lonely Planet, it’s like the coolest and best!!.......). My parents and I still had an unbelievable time soaking up the rays and culture in what is Bali, Indonesia. I feel so grateful I got to spend part of my amazing adventure across the world with the two people I love most.

Below are few pictures from the day of the accident and crazy adventure

To end on a little more of light-hearted note below are a few more pictures of the experiences and great times I had with my parents during their time on Bali. Hope you enjoy!