Source: Traveller
March 20, 2010
Aneva Borthwick relies on the kindness of strangers.
We are in Phobjikha, Bhutan, on a cold spring evening. One minute I'm walking down a steep and slippery path, next I'm in the air and then lying on my back in a hole. There is pain and my arms and hands are numb and tingling. I know my back is broken and I can feel blood trickling down my face.
If I lie still, the pain is bearable. Shortly, the numbness and tingles ease. What to do? I have on about five layers of clothing, including my favourite beanie, so I don't feel cold.
Somebody jumps into the ditch and tries to help me up. "Don't touch me," I say, "I have broken my back." The poor man moves away.
Others arrive and ask me what I want them to do. "You must make me a collar," I say and lie back and wait.
The collar arrives and is a work of art. They then ask what to do next. "You must get a door or plank for me to lie on," I say. After some time my travel companions arrive with a plank, which I later learn had been part of the front steps of the guesthouse at which we are staying. I roll to one side and the plank is placed under me as I roll back. It is hard and uncomfortable and not quite as wide as I am.
The local village health workers arrive and carry me along uneven paths and up stairs into the house. This journey is frightening; any movement causes intense pain and I am scared of being dropped.
It takes two days to get out of Bhutan with only basic medical care and inadequate pain relief. The roads have hairpin bends, with children, cars, yaks and cattle likely around any corner. I'm flown to Bangkok by air ambulance and receive first-rate care in the hospital, including surgery for a serious neck fracture. I'm on the way to a full recovery and indebted to my travelling companions.
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