Had I been told I would be spending 48 hours in a Vietnamese hospital during my travels, I would have refused to leave Australia. But, I survived the experience, and now am only horrified by my preconceptions.

Sprawled on my bedroom floor in the hotel, strategically placed between bed and bathroom, my room-mate walked in and trod on me. It was at this point I admitted that I needed medical help. For six hours, I had played a humiliating game of musical chairs and heads down thumbs up, with the toilet, and wasn’t winning.

But I did not want to go to hospital in Vietnam.