In part two, I return to teaching English classes, overcome the need for a cane, and provide some insights into Thai culture while battling a corrupt insurance company to cover a second surgery to remove the titanium plates—or choose to never run again.

Chapter 16: One of the unexpected bonuses of being a lowly contractor at my language school was admission to the U-club, whose ironic namesake is the missing letter “u” when spelling the number forty, which is commonly misspelled by our clientele. We were a gregarious brotherhood of expatriates from English-speaking countries, hailing from Australia, Scotland, England, Canada, and the US. We gathered for evening meals to salute our victories and complain about the burdens of our scholastic endeavors while drinking ourselves stupid. To accomplish this feat, our favorite boardroom was a German restaurant in downtown Bangkok that offered imported Hefeweizen on tap and made delicious sausage with sauerkraut, served with wholegrain mustard. Beyond the intoxicating fellowship, this group was an excellent resource for discussing the pros and cons of a teaching method, sharing handouts to teach a topic at various skill levels, and grumbling about our trivial problems to an empathetic audience because, well, misery loves company.

Chapter 25: Living in the tropics means fresh fruits and vegetables year-round, and I love eating pineapples, oranges, and mangos throughout the winter months. However, one exception to my love of tropical fruits is durian, a football-sized, spikey-skinned brownish melon. Some marketing genius nicknamed it the “King of Fruits,” but to me, they smell repulsively disgusting, akin to month-old molding gym socks. In fact, the smell is so obnoxious that signs at the entrance to the underground train stations state this fruit is banned from transport. Sadly, with eye-rolling dismay, many of my Thai friends love this stinky fruit and are forever trying to get me to taste it, but I always refuse as I just cannot get past the revolting odor. Perhaps it is an acquired taste you cannot truly appreciate unless you had it as a child. Maybe this explains why the world’s cultures are so diverse in their choice of cuisine and what they find delectable. For example, Australians love Vegemite, French people eat snails, and Americans are the weirdest with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Chapter 27: Mister Harnee was brutally honest with me about how the legal system in Thailand really functions, putting my odds of winning in court at 20%. Instead, he advised me not to take this case to court, as the judge would definitely side with a major Thai insurance company over a foreigner. Conversely, he suggested a legal lawsuit would actually play into their hands because Thanos would never negotiate a settlement once they had a court judgment in their favor. I was a bit surprised by this confirmation that the legal system was biased, but this echoed what Miss Chanita had warned me about. With my back against the wall, I offered her advice that the one thing Thai corporations fear most is being exposed for their dishonest deeds in the media, which would cause them to lose face publicly. He pondered this for a while as he stroked his chin in concentration and then agreed that the squeaky wheel does indeed get oiled, but we would need to plan out our strategy and proceed with utmost caution.