Medical Adventures Pt. 87

I had another visit to the doctor last week. I know it probably seems like I'm under medical supervision quite frequently, but you know if I would just get a clue and stop texting when walking down stairs and eating cheese, I could probably save myself some money.

So this time, I went off the deep end and decided to visit an Oriental Medicine doctor. Every time someone at my school gets sick they go to the Oriental Medicine doctor and get miraculously healed, so I was curious. Korean people are quite robust, and robust-ness is something I could use a bit of, so I headed to the Oriental Medicine doctor to see if he could prescribe me something to fix that.

Actually, a few years ago I snapped my neck around on a rollercoaster (Hi Nicole! Please blame your husband.) and ever since my head has felt annoyingly heavier, so much so that my neck sometimes has trouble holding it up. Some might suppose that emptying some of the useless facts out of my head (my nickname is "Wiki" or "Jess-o-pedia") might make my head lighter, but I'm afraid I might need all this extraneous knowledge someday when playing Trivial Pursuit.

So off I went to visit the only Western-certified Oriental Medicine doctor in all of Korea - and guess what - he's not even from the Orient!! He's Austrian. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger. After talking with him, he wanted to run a gamut of tests, and seeing as my afternoon was free and Korean medical tests are ridiculously cheap, I obliged.

The first thing I was subject to was an MRI. Now, this MRI was not covered by insurance, but you couldn't find a cheaper MRI test on Ebay. For those of you who haven't had one, basically you lay on a bed that slides into this big machine that uses radiation to get pictures of your internal-ness.

Usually people's biggest concern with having an MRI is the fact that the space you have to inhabit inside the machine is ridiculously small and coffin-like. I, on the other hand, am claustrophillic, the opposite of claustrophobic. I loves me some small spaces. I grew up sleeping under the covers and I hope to someday drive an ultra-compact car. To me, being buried alive actually seems like a nice way to spend the afternoon.

No, my particular concern regarding the MRI was given to me by the attendant-man just as he was about to slide me into the machine.

"Two important things for test," he said. "Number one - be still. Number two - only swallow when I tell you to."

Wait...I thought swallowing was a reflex. Like blinking. Don't swallow? That's like telling someone not to think of a pink zebra or their brain will explode.

Kablam.

"Well, what if there's an emergency???" I asked. He laughed and buckled me in. Glad this was funny for him.

Meanwhile I'm strategizing just how exactly I'm going to pull this off. He said there will be eight 2-minute episodes where I'm not allowed to swallow.

I thought about everything good in the world to keep me from swallowing. I thought about lying on the beach with a cold drink and a book before I reminded myself that I don't read and that fantasy was entirely implausible. I then began to panic, because I felt my throat muscles poise themselves for action and I knew the swallowing could only be stopped by my amazing powers of distraction. I ran through happy memories, relived past moments of laughter and contentment, and when things got really bad, I thought of my future children.

I am not trying to be dramatic; all of this actually happened in my busted-up head. I am indeed strange-r than I had previously deduced.

So after the MRI, the doctor decided to twist my limbs around (he called it "manipulation"; I called it "awkward") in an effort to contort my body back to its natural state. Some things popped, so apparently he was successful.

And then, the creme-de-la-creme, was the acupuncture. The acupuncture actually cost about $5. He would ask me (at points, seemingly ridiculous) medical questions and if I said yes, he would stick a tiny needle in some part of my body. TMJ? Two needles in your jaw. Digestive problems? Needles in the foot. Headaches? Two needles in the hands. When he put the needles in my hands, I told him that he had missed, and that my head was up here.

So after laying around for about 15 minutes, needles sticking out of me, looking like Frankenstein, the nurse came in and took the needles out and told me I could go. I started to put my jacket on when I felt a shooting pain in my shoulder. I looked down and saw two needles sticking out of my trapezius. I push the call button.

"Yes?" she says, rounding the corner. I point. She gasps. I smile. She apologizes. I smile. She takes them out. I continue smiling. She goes away.

I go to zip up my coat and feel another stabbing pain in my chest. I look down and see a needle fully jabbed into my sternum. I push the call button.

"Yes?" she says. I point. She gasps. Etc.

So between being zapped with radiation, twisted into a pretzel, and stabbed repeatedly, I actually feel a lot better. And to think I had reservations.

Teacher's Day

-Rethinking the name of my blog...-

Today here in Korea it was Teacher's Day. Teacher's Day is the holiday where parents usually send extravagant gifts strapped to their tiny child's back to school in order to curry favor with their teachers. It probably started out as a nice way for people to appreciate teachers, and then as Korea grew in economic stature it became more and more of a competition amongst parents as to who could give the most money/biggest gift/largest bouquet of flowers.

I heard a story from my friend Michelle (who works in a private tutoring academy) about how parents were expected to contribute roughly $300 per student in order to get the teachers adequate gifts...thankfully the director of the academy refused to allow this, but in a surprisingly bold move decided that teachers at the academy would not be allowed to accept any gift of any kind on Teacher's Day. Not even so much as a lollipop. Poor poor Michelle.

I didn't expect much at my school, because first of all I'm just a subject teacher (and Teacher's Day is more about honoring and appreciating homeroom teachers), and second of all, most of my kids come from not-so-well-off families, and a lot come from single-parent families. So when I didn't get anything first period, second period, third period, fourth period...it didn't come as much of a surprise.

I was a little disappointed though...my co-teacher got tons of handmade cards (most with a PS at the bottom that said in Korean "Tell Jessica Teacher I'm sorry that I can't write in English"). Heck - I would've loved even having cards written in Korean, but I guess it wasn't in the cards (PUN!!).

I kind of half complained to my co-teacher about the students blatant neglect to appreciate the services I provide to them...and that's when I got my butt kicked. I think God likes to do this to me.

About 10 minutes before my low-level after school class started, a sixth-grade student (Han-su), whom I rarely interact one-on-one with, came into my classroom and gave me a simply yet nicely-wrapped chocolate bar.

-Han-su's gift-

And then my cute-as-all-else 3rd grade boys started to file in for class, and Kevin handed me a beautifully-wrapped package with a hand-written note on the front:

-Kevin's gift-

-Tag: "Seonsaengnim (Teacher), Kamsa Hamnida (Thank you)"-

It was soap! I never quite know what to think getting soap as a gift. Simple gesture...or subtle hint? But it was lovely. And so is Kevin!

-Handmade soap from Kevin-

Then Mark skipped in holding a wrapped package for me and delightfully shouted "Happy Teacher's Day Jessica Teacher!!".

-Wrapping paper on Mark's present...surprisingly grammatically accurate!-

No more had I taken hold of it when he exclaimed "It's CANDY!". So much for the surprise...he just couldn't contain himself! :)

-Coffee candy from Mark-

And THEN to top it all off, Tiny Tony bounces in with a bouquet of carnations and wildflowers, hands them to me, and says in his little munchkin voice "Teacher - thith ith for you!" So precious.

-Tony's gift - carnations!-

This is something I'm learning:

My thought process usually goes like this: I've worked for it - I deserve it, right? But then I don't get it...and don't get it...and don't get it. And then at my breaking point I whine and complain about the fact that I've worked hard and I should get what I want. And God reminds me that the reason I work is NOT for the rewards of this world, not for gifts, not for admiration, not for money, not even for love...and just as I come to accept that, He gives me Tiny Tony with a bouquet of flowers he had to carry around all day to wait until English class at 2:00 just so he could give them to me.

And its in the moments I'm least deserving of anything good, its in those moments I feel His blessings and love, stronger than in the happy moments, in the comfortable moments. I'm almost getting used to feeling like a fool.

Maybe baby's growing up.

I'll leave you with this Matthew Henry quote I happened upon this week:

"We need affliction, to teach us submission."

Prayers,

Jess

PS. Today for lunch, we had mystery-meat nuggets. I can access the lunch menu on my school's website, so I usually try to look up the Korean words and figure out what I'm about to eat before I walk into that arena of the unknown. My first attempt in the online Korean dictionary gave me "earthborn". The second dictionary gave me "nuclear power plant" and "allosaurus" amongst a wide array of other responses. So...I'm still not quite sure what I ate...perhaps organic radioactive dinosaur nuggets...

Adventuring

-Bulguksa Temple, Namsan Mountain, Gyeongju, Korea-

Last weekend, all of Korea (and probably most of Asia) celebrated Buddha's birthday (AKA Bu-cheo-nim). According to my favorite source (Wikipedia) Korea is about 34% Buddhist (with Christians a close second at 30%).

Even though that number seems high, I would venture to say that most of the "professed" Buddhists here aren't very active, at least from what I've seen. I would definitely NOT call Korea a Buddhist society. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Korea is one of the most materialistic societies I've visited. So I don't see the whole Buddhist connection thing. But I did get the day off work, so chalk one up to Buddha.

So I decided to join some of my friends who were going to hoof it to Gyeongju for the long weekend, just to relax and visit some of Korea's historic-ness. I got up at dawn's early light and made my way to the Express Bus Terminal, arriving around 7 AM. As it turned out we weren't the only zealous adventurers to plan a Gyeongju visit...and the earliest bus we could get was to leave at 10:50 AM. So it was off to McDonald's for a nice leisurely breakfast and coffee.

Gyeongju Trip Realization #1: Korea needs Denny's and IHOPs. Koreans' idea of breakfast is rice, kimchi and side dishes, which also happens to be their idea for lunch and dinner. I just want some PANCAKES!!!!

The bus ride was LOOOONG...like 5 hrs long...and my time was spent alternatively having deep discussions with JCrew, trying to make her laugh and pee her pants (because the bus driver refused to take a rest break until 3 and a half hours into the ride), and trying not to get bus-sick due to the TREMENDOUSLY warm temperatures and stale/smelly air inside the confines of our hot and stinky motorcoach. But I was with good company, and we laughed a lot.

Gyeongju Trip Realization #2: I think Korea has taught me to make the best out of uncomfortable situations...mostly because it has put me in a lot of those situations, and there's nothing to do but get absolutely stressed, irritable and irate or just laugh and laugh and laugh at the complete ridiculousness of what you're experiencing. Just take a deep breath and enjoy the view, mon.

So we got to Gyeongju around 3:30, ate and wandered around after dropping our stuff at a little hotel near the bus terminal. Much to my surprise, Gyeongju looked an awful lot like...Pardeeville, Wisconsin. Just a few lazy streets and a Piggly Wiggly...or in this case a Korean equivalent (it was the first normal-looking grocery store I've seen in months!)

For the first time in a loooong time, I was in a town, surrounded by one-to-two story buildings - no high-rises!! There were farms just outside of the tiny town. The town itself was DOMINATED by infamous "Gyeongju bread" factories and shops. Much to our dismay, all of the bread in Gyeongju is filled with Korean red bean paste.

-Gyeongju Bread shop-

-Red bean paste...YUCK!-

-Finished product-

Gyeongju Trip Realization #3: I will never, ever learn to like red bean paste. I have learned to like seaweed. I have learned to like cucumbers. I have even come to love stinky fermented bean soup that smells like smelly sweaty gym socks. But red bean paste...I just can't do it. I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.

We talked for a long time in a nice coffeeshop that took us FOREVER to find...we were wandering the deserted streets screaming "Suh-taaah-bucks isseoyo???" (literally: "Starbucks is there???"). We talked about EVERYTHING. Literally. I think we solved all the world's problems, and it only took about 3 hours. It was cool to just sit back and ponder the incredible goheffity of our world's current situations.

Then we headed back to the motel...I wanted to go to the Shampoo NightClub that was next to our motel, but I was outvoted. Us girls talked for a long time and then finally it was lights out.

Gyeongju Trip Realization #4: I love, love, LOVE sleeping on the floor. I would rather sleep on a Korean sleeping mat, called a "yo", on the floor than in any bed any day of the week. Especially with the heated floors they have here...pa-ra-DISE!

Sunday morning we went for breakfast and by the time we met up with Nate and Erik we found that they had rented scooter-like motorized devices. They were kind of like a hybrid of a kids' scooter mixed with a Hoveround. They were very proud of their new toys. We'd been trying unsuccessfully to rent scooters all weekend and no one would rent them to foreigners...so we were getting desperate. We had some fun in the morning cruising around the city.

-I believe this to be the single greatest picture of Jessica Jo Crew to exist on the planet Earth.-

-Erik taking Alicia for a spin-

Then it was off to Bulguksa, the famous Buddhist temple near Gyeongju where there was supposed to be good hiking and nature-ish things. The bus ride was...interesting. Let's just say that Alicia has the physical bruising to prove it.

-Part of Bulguksa Temple, Namsan Mountain, Gyeongju-

We hiked to the top of Namsan mountain (Note: there is also a Namsan mountain in Seoul...basically the name Namsan in Korean just means "South Mountain"). Its peak is at about 500m (about 1640 ft.). We made it up in about an hour and a half. The hike itself was either uphill or stairs the whole way (it was a mountain after all).

When we finally made it to the top, we looked around and saw about a billion people. We saw babies, women in heels, old ajummas and ajoshis, the elderly, the disabled, and the generally ill-prepared-for-hiking-looking-people. It was then we realized that you can just drive to the peak, and that you still have to pay to get inside to see the famous historic relics.

My exact words when I realized that were: "Ahhh!! BLURG!!!!"

But we did take in the view for awhile at the top - it was beautiful! We could see the Sea of Japan and the other mountains in the area. We could smell the clean sea air, and the sun was shining brightly. For just a second, the billion people sharing my mountain melted away and it was just me and God's beautiful creation. I breathed in and knew that this natural beauty was what I had been missing living in ol' dirty Seoul...it was just what I needed!

-View from the top of Namsan Mountain, Gyeongju, with the Sea of Japan in the distance-

Gyeongju Trip Realization #5: A few weeks ago I had a dream. In this dream I was on vacation in a place that was naturally spectacular and stunning...and I remember waking up craving to see beauty. I took nature for granted in the States...I took for granted the ability to be alone in the woods, walking along a lake, or just reading on the grass. None of these things are generally possible here. I miss solitude. I miss chosen alone-ness. It has been replaced by loneliness, or solitude's jerk of a second-cousin.

After climbing back down, eating dinner, and taking a much less treacherous bus ride back to the town, we hung out in our motel room and played cards for a few hours before Erik and Alicia headed to the train station to make it back to Suwon. After they left, things were pretty quiet...Nate and I played Go Fish, War, and I taught him how to play Manipulation. The next morning, it was off to the bus terminal bright and early to head back to the concrete jungle in which I dwell.

The bus ride back was MUCH nicer, we had seats that reclined and had footrests. We had A/C and a nice and timely rest break. And it took only 3 hours. I actually slept...I think thats the first time I've ever slept for more than 15 minutes on a bus or plane. Nice.

So all in all it was a good time spent with good friends. We laughed a lot. A LOT. It was so nice. Now I just gotta make it to Busan sometime...

Until next time~

JB

PS. Thanks to Eric for taking these pictures and posting them on Facebook so I could mercilessly pillage them and use them as though they were my own.

PPS. Congrats to all you new college grads!!! WELCOME TO LIFE! If you're having trouble finding a job, Korea's always looking for teachers :)

Toothbrushes

Much to my dismay, I’ve retained the song “All that She Wants” by Ace of Base in my head for going on two weeks now. If I don’t consciously keep it within the confines of my head, I am liable to start singing it at random times (in front of my kids, in front of my Bible Study, in front of my pastor). The strange thing is that I haven’t heard this song in years. I think I saw the name in a noraebang a couple weeks ago, and that’s all it took. Apparently I am highly impressionable, which I thought I grew out of, but no. I think I will be a lump of clay for the rest of my life.

In other news, I bought a new toothbrush. Now, I’ve spent my whole life using toothbrushes given to me for free by my dentist’s office…they even say “Rumbaugh Dentistry” on the handle. But…then I thought about it…how do dentists make enough money to buy you those free toothbrushes? I believe this can be explained in a theory I like to call:

The Colgate Correlation Theory

At least in my case, the toothbrushes that my dentist gives away at the end of his consultations are probably the lowest quality toothbrushes on the market. It would probably be better for me to brush my teeth with my finger (which is so gross…that is NEVER a substitute for real brushing people). The bristles have the tenacity of tall weeds, easily stomped upon by any hiking toddler, or in this case, my teeth. It takes approximately 4 uses for my new toothbrush to be rendered aged beyond its years (not to mention a veritable Petri dish of gross mouth bacteria). In my pervasive naivete, I never knew that toothbrushes could offer more than that.

However, this week I made an investment. Instead of buying the cheapest toothbrush in the aisle, I decided to try one of those designer brushes, the ones designated not by size or color, but by an extraneous model number that causes us to hearken back to years past and feel just how far modern technology has taken us.

Yes - I bought the 2080. Made in Germany. Powerful. Dominating. Unwilling to yield to plaque.

After using this brush for only a week, I am astounded. Its shape and stature have been retained. The bristles show no sign of wear. It does not shrink back on the shelf. It stands tall, because it knows it’s making a difference in today’s world, and because the handle is so big it doesn’t quite fit in the toothbrush holder.

So what does this have to do with my dentist’s toothbrushes? Well, call me crazy, but I believe that my dentist gives out crappy toothbrushes for just that reason – they’re crappy. Low-quality. Glorified toothpicks. Why give your customers cheap toothbrushes? So their teeth will rot in their head, and back back back they’ll come to get more hardware in their mouth just so they can chew their Cocoa Puffs without crying. So, next time your dentist offers you a free piece of dental equipment, think twice about accepting it. It may prove to be your undoing.

Perhaps that’s enough theorizing for now. Go out and buy yourself a nice toothbrush, would ya?