I wait so eagerly for the first day of summer and when it comes I am sick and bleeding and cramping. There was none of smoothie, swim, surf, or fresh mani. I forget to open my new strawberry lip balm that I’d saved for this day.

Monthly Mood: Can’tdida

Summer 2023 = hand heart.

I fade out of my nails era and into my kimchee era.

This looks like me standing in my bathroom at night with what feels like my sixth bout of Covid, scraping out the orange chili oil from under my index nail with the corner of a lilac bath towel.

I play kimchee tofu and kimchee fried brown rice on repeat. I ask my Korean student what the best brand of gochujang is.

It only took half a year, but I finally witness all the ladies swimming in their sun protection gear. It’s full-coverage at 8am out here: bandit masks with holes and brimmed hats and long sleeves that go past the hands. Empty water bottles are strung to the outfit and trail behind the swimmer, serving as floaties.

I am doing really well with work.

I must really be living in Vietnam if I don’t need to journal every day. It would be nice to at least write down three moments from each day though. Even if it’s just listing what I ate.

hole in the wall xôi vịt 

One weekend I explore the up down up downs of Đà Lạt. Hot peanut milk check. Avocado ice cream check. Meatballs and bánh mì loaves check.

Ballin’ bánh tráng nướng, check.

Identifying birds, check.

More than anything, June is when I figure out that I have the kind of Candida situation that doesn’t go away. I can medicate. I can stop eating most fun and healthy things. But it shows up again because it’s a part of me.

Candida is a genus of fungus. Candida naturally resides all over our bodies, in acceptably small quantities. I am using the word to mean vaginal yeast. Candidiasis is another way to say yeast infection.

But is it really an infection if it’s now a full-time community member of my compromised microbiome?

Surfing with synthetic bikini bottoms for four hours at a time (wave count: less than 3) and living in a city (humidity: above 80%) that reaches 90° by 9am doesn’t help.

There is no itch. There is no smell. I don’t know how long it’s been a part of me for or where it came from. I can only imagine that it has to do with the antibiotics I had to take every four or five months in India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. Often self-medicated, faced with little other choice.

I’d get the worst intestinal infections from a droplet of water on the vegetables, or in the chutney sauce, or maybe a bite of mutton. The thing is you never know. The other thing is that the unfiltered water running through Himalayan villages is very unsafe.

I peaked at the end of 2021 with about four straight months of diarrhea and little relief in between. Things that worked before, like a low-carb diet or fasting or Ciprofloxacin, stopped working. After a five clinics and three courses of different antibiotics, I pulled through.

To get to the bottom of my chronic gut symptoms is a big part of why I’ve slowed to a halt in Vietnam. To have my 20 years of worsening gut concerns compounded with recurrent candidiasis and the typical dermatological upsets of living in a tropical place (ringworm, wet dandruff, etc.) has fractured my brain.

I’ve picked candida to fight first. Candida just pisses me off so fucking much.

I’m on my third gynecologist about it (fourth gyno overall in the last six months).

The first advised me to stay out of the water for a month and ruined my surf season. She also hurt me during a cervical biopsy in an unprecedented way. I cried alone on that table, just like we all do even if it only feels like a pinch, which mine didn’t. I am traumatized.

The second was useless, prescribing me overpriced imported products that were obviously not working.

The final one can actually speak to me in English. The final one patiently listened to me. The final one prescribed me nothing and ran a lot of tests to rule out all possible causes. The final one didn’t mutilate or dehumanize me.

I’m paranoid about Candida all month. It keeps me up at night. I’ve trashed my bottoms and washable organic cotton pads. I’ve burnt my undies to ash in the microwave. Once a proud promoter of menstrual cups, I’ve ditched them for the first time in years. These lab tests and weird products imported from France, Denmark, and Germany are making me poor.

But I also figure out this month that when it comes to my health, I have no limit. Finally.

I only wish I had gone to the expensive hospital with the ocean view sooner.

I’m not going to give up. Of course not.

I’ve renounced fruit, smoothies, dessert, rice, phở, bánh mì, dairy, and gluten on most days. I’m ready to eliminate caffeine and starches and pumpkin all over again (I did this in March only for it to come back). I have natural supplements. I understand that it can be a hormone imbalance that causes me to produce excess sugar.

Among the supermarket shelves I finally locate active cultures in hippie kefirs and coyos that cost way too much except not really because they are worth it.

Because I can’t anymore.

I just can’tdida.

obsessions

space grey m1 macbook air
filtered water
starbucks matcha oatmilk lattes
h&m crop tops
wine wednesdays
7am starbucks with an ocean view
avo toast @ sweet secret
men’s cotton undies
longboard sessions yt channel
kimchee fried rice
tofu
đà lạt sweet potatoes
gut
our beloved summer
vietnamese birds
jasunny shampoo
vietnamese swim outfits
chè trái cây sầu riêng  @ cafe thiên nhiên
ukrainians
vinmec
emma chamberlain
vitanica yeast arrest
sebamed lip defense
bánh tráng nướng dì đinh

bird of the month: streaked spiderhunter

currently reading: gut by giulia enders

Previous Monthly Mood: My Nails Era

Explore my full archive of Vietnam and Monthly Moods.

Learn more about this round-the-world solo trip.