Sunday, July 31, 2011

Hospitalization and Anger (TMI if you don't like brief poop talk)

As most all of you know, I was in the hospital this last weekend for intestinal and stomach pain. Turns out, I had a non-mechanical blockage of the intestine--a paralytic ileus. Which is a pretty serious thing. I thought I was just gassy or something, but no, I was in a bad way with an infection that can be life threatening (but usually isn't).

Here's the thing. I wouldn't have gone to the right ER (the one where they actually gave a shit) if my mom (a nurse) hadn't pushed me to tell them it was probably an ileus. When I decided (at 4am) to go to the hospital because the pain was too much and I was worried I wasn't going to get any sleep and that I might be sicker than I thought, I sent my mom a text describing my symptoms and she sent back a frantic push that I needed to get an ultrasound or CT. When I stumbled downstairs and (doubled over in pain) made my way to a taxi to ask them to take me to a hospital, the driver laughed at me. Laughed at a crying, doubled over woman. He said something about Seoul, I'm assuming he was a taxi driver from Seoul and trying to tell me he didn't know where anything is, but that's no excuse for not helping someone in obvious pain. He could have called 119 or used his stupid GPS to find an ER. I could have called 119, but I wasn't convinced it was that serious. I got out of the cab, slammed the door and cussed while crying and clutching my stomach.

There's a small hospital across the street from my apartments, but I don't like it--I went there for an ob/gyn check up since that's the only English on the sign and I didn't like the doctor. It also looked closed. I jay-walked across the street, praying I wasn't struck by a crazy Korean driver that would come zooming out of no where. I was lucky, there was an attendant sleeping at the desk and the door was unlocked. I hobbled up to the desk and pulled out the Lonely Planet phrase book and pointed to the words "pain, constipation, diarrhea" which confused the attendant and I tried to explain "One year constipation. One day diarrhea." in broken Korean. He called the nurse and doctor and they hooked me up to an IV and gave me some antibiotics and were confused by my crying and whimpering when the needles came out (I tried to explain since the doctor spoke some English, but it just hurt the argument that I knew what real pain was) and then freaking out a bit more when the nurse hit a nerve and my thumb went tingly. ***Update: My thumb feels pretty weird and when I bump the place the nurse poked me the thumb goes numb*** I was put in a room and left there until I walked out an hour and a half later since the IV bag was empty and my blood was backing up into the tube. The pain was the same. There was no call button that I could see in the room.

The attendant (same guy as before) told me the IV makes the problem disappear and there was nothing to do now and to come back at 9am for outpatient consult with the doctor. I tried to tell him the pain was the same, the IV didn't make the problem disappear (this was all through a phone dictionary, his limited knowledge of English and my very limited knowledge of Korean). So, I hobbled out of the hospital, stopped at the steps and doubled over again because the pain was still strong and I was worried I wouldn't make it across the street. He just repeated to come back at 9am. It was 6:30am, I had to go home and wait it out. WTF Korea?

I Skyped my mom, since she's my mom and was the reason I decided I should go to the hospital in the first place. She told me that the hospital was crazy, I had all the classic symptoms of intestinal blockage, that it was a serious thing, and that I had to push for the tests to see what was wrong. I did, at 9am, I went back to talk to the doctor. He told me it was just inflamed intestines and that I had to take some pills and go home. I called my mom again to let her know what he said. She asked if they did any tests to look inside, I said no and she repeated that I needed to get them if only to rule it out because I had all the symptoms.

I brought my computer with a list of symptoms of intestinal blockage and a list of symptoms for the gastritis--pointing out that I had all the symptoms on the blockage list and only two on the other. The doctor said that those were "common symptoms" and I said, "Yes, of intestinal blockage." He said that I couldn't get a CT at that hospital (even though there was a room for CT and a room for xrays) and that there was an insurance issue. I said I'd pay out of pocket and flashed my American insurance at him. He finally wrote the order for a CT and said I would have to go to the ER at Sang Mo Hospital. I had to press him to write the constipation under the "symptoms" section of the order, and he said, "but that's not your current issue, you have diarrhea" and I had to explain again that this was only in the last 24 hours and that for a year I had been constipated on and off. He finally wrote it down.

I went to the desk and asked the nurse to write the name of the hospital in Korean so I could show the taxi driver. They just spoke the name and told me to get a taxi. *facepalm* I said "ssuda juseyo" (write please) like I do with my students (the geniuses are only 5-11 years old and understand the "writing" gesture and the instruction to write). The nurse wrote it down and wanted to the flag down a cab for me--pretty much acting like I was an idiot because I wanted her to write down the name.

I got to the ER feeling like an idiot because I was under the impression (from all the Koreans) that I was over-reacting. My co-worker had to come and sign me in because I guess I'm not allowed to do that myself? I was downplaying the situation with him because I was still under the impression that I was not in any danger. I continued to feel this way until 6 hours into my hospitalization when a new doctor finally showed me the images from my CT and xray and explained how my colon was 2-3 times normal size and both it and my stomach were filled with air. That it might mean surgery. That they should never have removed the tube from my nose. That I would have to stay for 2-3 days.


I still don't know if it was my fussy nature that made them release me. My mom said that she wouldn't have let me out until my first successful BM. The morning shift doctor said I could go though and that my xray from that morning looked "good." Whatever that means.

I'm still freaked out. Every burp feels like a warning sign, but they don't stink like they did. I'm having slight indigestion right now, so I'm trying to keep track of that to talk to the doctor about tomorrow. I am angry that I had to push to be taken seriously. That I was pretty much ignored by doctors and nurses while in both ERs, and that I just don't know what the heck was going on. I was trying to think of the closest English speaking country with good hospitals in the event that I just wanted to fly there. The American doctor (someone my dad knows) and nurse (my mom) who were consulted both said it was a serious condition, but the Koreans acted like it was a nose bleed.

So there's one more thing I won't miss about Korea-- crap communication with doctors and nurses. I don't understand why Koreans don't draw maps or use visual aids when talking to non-Korean speakers. Pictures help! Seriously, if I need to know where something is, draw a flippin' map! Don't just repeat your Korean directions. Ugh. If I need to know when to take pills, write the time or draw a clock. To the nurse's credit, she did eventually write the time on the pill pouches.

I am grateful to all the nurses and doctors who did help me out, and to the ones who tried to talk to me despite communication barriers. And my awesome roommate (who was in for a thyroidectomy due to stage 3 cancer--which made me feel stupid for whimpering over needles) who walked me to the place I needed to go to pay for the stay and explained when I needed to take my meds in her broken English.


Anyway, I'm feeling better but freaked out.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Scared...but Jubilant?

I don't know if it's just my nature to be discontent with the situation at hand, or if it's that I haven't found something that fits yet and inertia takes over. The focus is rarely on the present long enough for me to focus. I'm both elated and really scared and bummed out about having only 4 more days left as an English "teacher" and only a month left in Asia.

I'm having anxiety dreams--mostly involving money. I have fears that I didn't do the whole "living abroad" thing right, just like I didn't do high school and college right. I never pushed for that experience I really wanted, I just settled because it was easy. The fears that the 20lbs I've lost and kept off for a year will come back, that I didn't do enough self-improvement, that I'm not good enough are creeping (read: swarming).

I've been over-eating crap-ish food recently. Not good. When I get to Wonju on Saturday, I'm going to revamp the way I'm living to get back on track. I just feel kind of ill, over-stuffed and unsatisfied. Layers upon layers of redundancy.

I'm running from sleep. Playing solitaire games on the iPhone just like I did when I first got here. Tonight, I distracted myself from prepping lunches for myself by scrubbing off the mysterious grease spatters that didn't come off in any of the previous "OCD moments" I'd had through out the year. They finally yielded. Good. Now there's one less thing for the in-coming person to judge my slovenly housekeeping on. Maybe I'll feel less guilty about not providing awesome linens and kitchen towels, now that something has less of a yellow hue to it.


I'm excited about Thailand, but worried about everything after that. How do I visit all the people I want to see? I can't let myself even glimpse down the spiral of worry about petrol and travel. Slippery slopes versus experiences I've been dreaming up since I was a little kid? Experiences. I'm being selfish, for a bit...well, to a point, I am still considering others over myself. But that could be a selfish habit as well, self-deprivation in the name of not rocking the boat and not taking risks.

I'll feel better after I've gotten everything cleared out, cleaned up and settled in Wonju. Getting settled takes so much time, then uprooting seems to ambush me. Do I spend time nesting or do I purge my belongings and streamline my life? Can I become what I want and travel? Can I become what I want and nestle into a stationary life?

I'm grateful that these are the problems I'm contemplating, they feel big. They are big. But, I know I will never want for anything since I have so many wonderful people in my life.

I need to go to sleep. My adrenals and brain are already going to have a hard time kicking the glorious coffee habit.

Coming soon: Lists of things I will and won't miss about living in South Korea.

Fulfilling experiences to you all!
Sarah

Monday, July 11, 2011

Cherry Blossoms--Wow, Korea can be something other than grey!



This post is overdue. A nod to the more beautiful times of year in Korea--those fleeting weeks of Spring and Fall, yes "weeks."

During the 1-2 week period in which the Cherry Blossoms are in bloom, Korea seems very fairy tale like place of peace and beauty. The pink-white flowers seem to explode everywhere overnight, along with huge, white, fragrant magnolia blooms and yellow canola (or as they say here "rape" --no, not "rapeseed" just "rape," that caused some confusion in my adult class and I may have traumatized the housewives) flowers. The world seems like nothing could go wrong ever. The bees are out and quite happy, the world just seems like a beautiful place.







Sunday, July 10, 2011

Friendships and Wanderlust

Korea is an intense experience. It's lonely in the deepest meaning of the word, many people cry to themselves and ache for some sort of human connection--any human connection. Then you meet some people you get along with and the world is awesome again. Until there's drama, and then it's aggravating but you still have some solid people in your life. Then you find a niche community of people you really, really click with, and it's time to leave.

All the relationships forged in the living abroad experience are strangely attached and non-attached. Some people cling to their new found friends and try to get them to move closer and work in their area, others are more free and understand that we're all parting soon but we can connect while we're in the same place. Most everyone in Korea is in transition, and that means that we have to build on a constantly shifting foundation. It makes for an interesting experience, one that mixes the difficulty of getting to know someone with whom you can open up with a time pressure that makes the soul-wielding occur at lightning speed or not at all. Friendships here can circle around meaningful or jump right in. Korea's got a time warp feel--it takes months to figure out where to go grocery shopping, but you can meet someone and within a week know their entire history and a list of their aspirations.

It makes it difficult for a person like me to focus on a single goal, I'm hearing about all these exciting things people have or are going to do and I've connected with some to an extent that I don't want that to disappear just because our respective contracts are up and our time has been served. I can't sit still for too long on one idea, but I want to dive into it all. For now, I'm committing to coming back to Southern California but my eyes and feet are looking at the road, rails and skies. Plotting the next adventure. I've had a taste of the world and I want more.

As I pack up, donate or sell off the winter clothes and items I don't need at the moment, I'm really glad I stuck it out and I'm thankful for everyone who reminded me that I was strong enough to do so.

I'm going to the Boryeong MudFest this weekend, so there will be updates with photos when I get back!

Cheers!

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Trip to Cambodia - ACODO



I was super disappointed that Wendy and I couldn’t get the tuk-tuk drivers in Phenom Penh to understand where the supposedly famous Cambodian Dance Academy was, despite our use of a map and help from the hotel staff--I thought I was going to miss out on traditional Khmer dance. Luckily, we found Assisting Cambodian Orphans and Disabled Orphans (ACODO) in Siem Reap, and an evening trip to watch traditional dance turned into a moving experience that touched both Wendy and me.

ACODO is an incredible, though small due to lack of funding, orphanage in Siem Reap. The children range in age, from 3-21 years—typically the orphans leave the orphanage at 18, but the 21 year old currently residing there is a burn victim who started working at the orphanage because his chances of getting a job outside of it are lower than most and he does really love the other children. All school-aged children attend state school, and receive English classes at the orphanage from volunteers (I tried to see if I could help out for a day, but there was a miscommunication and I didn't get the opportunity to put my current profession to use for this worthy organization). In addition to the standard education and English classes, the children learn traditional Khmer dance, opera and how to play an instrument. The children are amazing -- very professional in demeanor and execution of the dances and songs. Even though Wendy and I were the only people who came out to watch them that night, they performed for us as if there were an audience of a thousand.

In between acts of the traditional ballet repertoire the director of the ACODO played a video demonstrating the needs of the orphanage--food, hygiene items, volunteers, and money--and their plans for expanding their grounds. ACODO is planning on adding a library with computer lab, and they are saving for land to start a farm so they can supply their own food and use the money they were spending on food to supply more opportunities for more children. The love in the eyes of the director was as apparent as the joy on the faces of the children.

After the performance, Wendy and I stayed to play with the children and talk with the director about coming back to volunteer later on. Wendy, ever the percussionist, whipped out her wooden spoons and taught the children how to play them. This very special organization deserves support and the bonus of being able to watch traditional Khmer dances performed by unbelievably talented children and teens should drive more tourists to ACODO—it’s far better than the overpriced dinner theater style shows that don’t give any money to worthy causes.

Trip to Cambodia - Floating village, lotus fields





If you take a trip to Siem Reap, I suggest skipping the Floating Village unless you know for a fact there's something awesome going on there. The cost of the boat out isn't worth the trip--$12 or something super expensive for Cambodian prices--and while it's cool to see buildings floating in a lake, it's not that cool.



On the other hand, for a donation of $1 you can walk through some pretty amazing Lotus Fields on the road to the floating village. I highly suggest that. It's on the same road as ACODO, so you'll pass by the orphanage on the way out of the town and you keep going (Wendy and I stopped on the tuk-tuk on the way out to the floating village and then biked out there again the next day on our rusty $2/day rental bikes). You can eat the seeds (ala 'The Odyssey') and walk along this huge field of sacred flowers. It's a really lovely way to spend a few hours. If you're into photography, you can get some pretty amazing shots there.

Buddha's Birthday at Bongamsa

Buddha's Birthday has always been a favorite holiday of mine, at UUCNWT we had a Japanese (and now I know Korean) style hana (flower) matsuri (festival) and celebrated the birth of Buddha with songs and readings about his life, but my favorite part was the flower alter with green tea. Every year, we erected this alter with a bowl and young Buddha statue (the one with him pointing one hand to the sky and one to the Earth) and surrounded the structure with fresh flowers from around Tucson and the bowl was filled with green tea. You were to pour the green tea over Buddha while sending off a wish/prayer. I found this extremely meditative and I loved the action of pouring the liquid over the statue.

My friends Allison and Erika joined me on a trip to Bongamsa, a temple (-sa means "temple") near Daejeon in central Korea which is only open to the public for Buddha's birthday. It was raining--just as the song written by Jeff Chamberlain of UUCNWT says it did when Buddha was born "And the story says the rain came down like tea"-- but we made it to Bongamsa around 1pm after traveling to Seoul to catch the bus at 10ish, we left the terminal around 11 though. I had packed a lunch of kim bab (nori rolls or sushi), carrot salad, spelt banana nut muffins and watermelon, we chowed down before hopping onto and while on the shuttle bus from the road to the temple. 'Twas tasty goodness.

We got to the temple and it was one of the more sacred experiences I've had in my life. Unlike my prior trips to temples in Korea, which were always beautiful and amazing in their own ways, this actually had a hushed and untouched feel to it. Maybe it's because I wasn't with a group of drunk and disrespectful teachers. Maybe it's because I already placed weight on the date. Maybe it was the rain. Whatever it was, all three of us felt it.

I got to pour tea on Buddha, like when I was a teen at UUCNWT but on a much bigger (and uglier, in my opinion--one of the bright pink and green numbers that you see in cheesy restaurants) statue. Sending off healing vibes to those in need and feeling this emptiness where the UU church used to be.

On Buddha's birthday, it's tradition to make wishes--I'm not sure why--and they are supposed to have more probability of coming true than other times of the year. There are several opportunities to do this, and we took advantage of all of them! For a (required) donation of man won (10,000 won ~ $10) you could write the names of the people you wanted to send a wish to/for on a paper that was to glued to a paper lantern and then hung among a large group of similar lanterns, or you could (for the same price) write the names and addresses of the people you wanted to send out the wish to/for on a tile that would be used in either repairs on the temple or when a new building was roofed.

I had trouble figuring out the address thing--you were supposed to write your home address, and I don't feel like I have one at the moment. I'm in a transitional phase and I don't really feel like I have one place I call "home." I talk about Tucson and Los Angeles (and at times Incheon, but not really in the same way) as "home."

Anyway, the temple. We walked around for an hour or two and then decided to head back into Seoul and get home. The rain was picking up too and our clothes were soaked through below the knees and on the sides of our shirts--umbrellas are useless in the wind. Our journey home was a bit more complicated, but we got there. There was a van taxi driving people from the temple into the nearby town, and we were ushered in that direction by the police managing traffic at the temple. The vans were unmarked, but we figured if there were hoards of people getting into them they had to be safe, right? Oh Korea, I'm so glad I have more street smarts than this at home. After every Korean in the van had filed out to their various destinations, it was just Erika, Allison and myself in the back of a van with an unknown driver. Did we feel unsafe? Hell no, we were nearly completely comfortable with trusting this stranger with our lives--though we did keep commenting on how we would never do this at home and how crazy this was.

We were dropped at the bus terminal in the small town near the temple, safe and sound, but we had to figure out how to get from this terminal to the one in the bigger town that had buses that ran to Seoul--that just took some usage of the ever-life-saving handphone dictionaries. We were wet, a little cold, but we were on our way home.

We got into Seoul really late--leaving the Daejeon area around 4-5pm, with rain on the road meant it took 3-4 hours to get into Seoul, then another hour for each of us to get home. It was a lovely trip though. I recommend anyone in Korea during Buddha's birthday check it out.