Big Bad Boil

I have debated whether or not to post about this, but it has been such a big part of my life the past few days that I feel like I should. If for no other reason than to reread it in a few months and remember the story and how far I've come. 

Last December, right before I went home for Christmas, I got my first boil. Gross and slightly embarrassing, I knew nothing about what they were or how I'd acquired one. It was right where my leg met my butt, and over the course of a few days began to cause agonizing pain. I could barely walk, I winced the entire 15 minute bike ride to school, and standing and sitting came to be the most difficult part of my day. I would have gone to the doctor sooner, but being that I'm over here, I wasn't exactly sure where to go nor did I have the vocabulary to get things accomplished. Long story short, Kim and her amazing Japanese came with me, Keima wrote out in my issue in detail, and I made a list of vocab I needed. The visit went smoothly. I got 3 pills, and was set to leave for the US 2 days later, where I would have it looked at there. I did, and it drained, and we were golden.

Then I came back to Japan and some how acquired two new boils in my armpit. Every time I get one, since I'm now becoming a connoisseur, there is always a day where I am just out of commission. One night where I just cry from pain and frustration. Then continue to add hot compresses or whatever, willing it to mature, drain, and re-leave the pressure. The pain will continue for about a week as it slowly drains, though is bearable by then.

Vocabulary.

Last Sunday I got the pleasure of having 2 next to each other at the top of my right armpit. An already painful addition to my body, the sensitive location only magnified the pain. Then there was a rash down my arm, tender to my elbow, I decided I should probably go to the doctor. I did, this time all by myself. I was hoping to get some antibiotics like last time, which worked great, and go home. Instead the doctor decided to lance, as in cut, it. 

"I think maybeee I should cut it," the doctor said as he manhandled my sore.

Without being rude, I mentally willed him to change his mind. 

"Really? We cant just wait a few days and see if it drains?"

"No. I should cut it today."

"Ok. (Damn) Are you going to numb it first?"

"Oh of course," he said, "though the anesthesia doesn't always work. And the injection itself is quite painful."

Awesome.

I watched as he filled a syringe 90% full. I asked in Japanese if he was going to put it all in. He gave me a reluctant yes. I winced. The thing already hurt from the pressure it was putting on my nerves, so yes, please, by all means, shove more liquid in there.

I watched with terror as the doctor received, blades, scissors, forceps and needles from the nurse and took to my delicate pit. I cried, the entire time. I lifted my head once and saw sooo much blood I let out an audible gasp. The doctor told me in perfectly simple, calm English, 

"I think it's better for you not to look."

I laid back down, putting my left hand over my face turning toward the wall. The doctor explained in English that he was taking out the debris, as he called it. I said I understood, and the whole room laughed as I said the word for pus in Japanese. Who knew my Japanese vocabulary would expand medically?!

A nurse came to my feet and held my knees trying to calm me. I tried to focus on her. That was a poor decision. She could see the doctor cut before I felt it and would squeeze my knees in anticipation. Allowing me to know for sure that pain was in store.

Finally, he stuffed the newly enlarged hole with gauze and wrapped my arm. It felt like my arm was on fire. He wrote me a prescription for the 3 pills I'd previously had and set me up with an IV antibiotic before I left. I continued to cry. I could not stop. I tried to take deep breaths, telling myself the worst was for sure over. At least for today. I still had to come back Thursday and Friday.

Drugs.

As the nurses escorted me to the IV room next door, they chuckled telling me in Japanese that I was entering an all Japanese zone, between tears I smiled and told them that was not a problem. One tried to bond with me telling me that she was there in December when I first came in. That was a special moment. She came back and handed me tissues as I tried to calm myself, smiling as I called myself a baby in Japanese. She assured me my tears were validated as she made another cutting motion in the air.

I biked home, lifting my arm off the handle bars in anticipation of bumps in the road.  Now semi hungry, all I wanted was Mac and Cheese. Not exactly prevalent in Japan. Kim had just arrived home from Spain hours before so was coincidently home at 1pm on this Wednesday. I went to say hi and ask how Spain was, trying to distract myself from my throbbing arm. Then she asked what happened. As soon as I opened my mouth I cried. Again.

But things were looking up. She amazingly happened to have a box of the ever famous Mac and Cheese, and kindly offered to make it for us for lunch. Full fat. I was all for it. After lunch I was able to take my prescription, one of which being a pain killer. I could feel it kicking in. I took a nap and lost myself in television on my computer.

Flowers from my lovely neighbor Liv.

Battle Wound.

Just a few hours later, I felt SO much better. My arm wasn't on fire and since he took out a ton of debris, the pressure was mostly gone. I was able to do some laundry, and dishes that had been neglected. The teachers at work emailed to check on me.  I told them in summary what I had done. Since it was a form of a procedure, I was encouraged to stay home and rest. 

Fine by me.

I slept in on the rainy Thursday, then syran wrapped my arm to shower. Called my family, then hopped on my bike to head back to the doctors. I had no idea if more cutting was involved and I mentally prepared myself as I parked my bike and handed over my insurance card. The nurse who had tried to be my buddy the previous day, was thrilled to see me smiling. I watched the tools she handed the doctor, analyzing the damage each could do. I almost leaped off the table for joy when I realized it was just a gauze change. I winced a little as the gauze came out and went back in, but nothing compared to the previous day. I got another antibiotic IV and was pretty much giddy the rest of the visit.

Tick Tock.
Bored and so excited there was no more slicing!

Friday I went to work half day, and back to the doctors, which is just across the street. Another gauze change, IV, and hang out sesh with my new nurse friends. This time no gauze went back in the wound. We're making progress!
Before the gauze went back on, I told them that my mom was a nurse and wanted a picture of the opening. Not a total lie, but I did want to send her one. Lucky lady. They said of course that was ok. In the two seconds it took for me to take the pic, I could hear that information traveling throughout the floor, no doubt the entire ward now knows my mother is a nurse.

BFF.

IV Fun.

Since I wasn't in tears and was all smiles this visit, the doctor told me that he once had visited San Francisco, taking BART and visiting UCSF. He then informed me that the word gauze comes from the Gaza Strip in Israel. Random but very cool. I had no idea.

I am all smiles and back to normal now. Having a dinner with a friend tonight and attending a Calvin Harris concert tomorrow night after a morning gauze change.

This weekend is shaping up nicely!

Lanced, 

KBoil

[The Latest]

Must Read: Japan One Year On...from The Sun. AMAZING PICTURES!

Google Search: Boils.

Tune: Crash Your Party By Karmin.

Accomplishment: A solo doctors visit.
Obsessions: Chocolate rice crispy treats.

Doctor's Visit: "Your jaw is wrong."

Let’s take a break from India and come back to little Kamagaya so I can tell you about my trip to the doctor’s office.

For about a month now I have had a dull ear ache that comes and goes. It is in both ears at times, though significantly worse in my left. I have found that it hurts more when it’s cold out, whatever that means, and at certain pitches or volumes I find myself cringing. I decided that enough is enough. I had been putting it off, since I wasn’t quite sure what the doctors were going to do about it, but yesterday I decided I should at least try.

I asked Sinapi how I would even go about going to the doctor. She graciously said she would take me. So after school we walked down the alley, took a left at the train tracks and went to the little office next to the vending machine.

As we walked up the stairs, she told me this is where she came when she broke her finger, so at least we knew their was some legitimacy here. We walked in and up to the little counter, as a father and his son were walking out. The 3 year old did a far from subtle double take when he saw an American and Samoan waiting in line behind him. We waved. With his jaw still dropped, he waved back. CuteJ

Then it was our turn. We were now the only ones in the waiting area, and from over the counter, we talked to the two nurses. Sinapi played translator as we explained my symptoms. Through the counter window to the right I could see the doctor. He was leaning back on his desk chair, with his feet up on the stool next to him. The doctor was about 20 feet from the nurses who were simply working as a liaison between him and us. I wanted to scream, “Dude will you just get up and come look in my ear!” he could have done it over the counter if that would have been easier, since it seems the entire goal was to keep us on the opposite side of the wall.

In the end they decided to refer us to an ear, nose and throat specialist. One of the nurses drew us a little map. Sinapi and I walked home, map in hand, grabbed our bikes and headed down the street past the video store and left at Denny’s.

We found it no problem. Parked our bikes and went it. Took off our shoes and put on their slippers, and walked to the counter. Sinapi explained why we were there, and I handed over my health insurance card. After confirming that romanji would be ok I took a form to fill out. The office already looked a little more legit than the last place.  There were about 15 people in the waiting room, all with slippers on, and about 13 with those SARS masks. VERY popular here. Sinapi and I refuse to wear them. Gotta draw the line somewhere.

We hunkered down and flipped through magazines, talked about her upcoming wedding (yay!), and I tried and failed to read a children’s book in Japanese. After about 30 minutes, a man walked in who Sinapi recognized as one of the elementary school teachers she works with. She called his name and he wheeled around with and, “OOOOOOhhh Sinapi, HELLO!”

He took a seat next to us and we had a simple conversation about who I was, and why we were all there. He was such a sweet older man. Through his mask he explained that he had a throat ache, and was hoping to get some sort of medicine. “Ahhhh” Sinapi and I simultaneously responded. I said I had an each ache, well literally what I said was, “Watashi mo mimi, ittai!” Literally translated, My ear, ow!

I’ve been here 6 months, at this rate it could be years before I put together a real sentence.

He also explained that she was a good doctor. Sinapi and I didn’t realize it was a woman, but were both excited by that. He continued to explain that she was a good doctor because she, “found my nose cancer”. Without trying to offend anyone I wrinkled my forehead, as I tried to figure out if this was lost in translation or in fact was this exactly what he wanted to say. I turned to Sinapi. She had the same look. We clarified in Japanese, where he said the exact same thing. Hmmm.

Is there even such a thing as nose cancer? I mean I’m assuming this balding, rolly polly, 50 year old elementary school teacher doesn’t do any hard drugs. How do you get nose cancer? Seriously?

Anyway, he really was so sweet and offered to translate for us when we went in if we wanted. I said of course, and thanked him continuously. Then it was our turn.

“Bone-san!” We assumed that was Bohan. I stood and walked toward the nurse. As did my entourage. Meet team Kate.

-First up, the patient, Kate. 24 year old American, standing at 160 cm and complaining of an earache.

-Next up we have 25 year old Sinapi from New Zealand, healthy as can be.

-Last but not least, we have a 50 year old, elementary school teacher from Japan, complaining of a throat ache.

Got the picture?

The nurse greeted us as we walked through the door single file, and sat us on a bench just on the other side. I could see around the curtain that it was just one big room with one chair. I could see the doctor and her two assistants.

I felt like we were waiting to see the wizard.

Finally the person in front of us left and it was my turn. They told me to put my purse in a bin and have a seat. Before I sat down the chair began to move up. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz it said and I, along with Sinapi began to chuckle. Sensei chuckled too and nudged Sinapi not to laugh. Which of course only made us laugh harder. I tried to pull it together as the doctor picked up an old fashion medal instrument to look into my ear, all as my team stood by on the side lines, and the two nurses milled about. There were 6 people in that room, all to help Kate with her little ear ache. I tried not to think about it as I would start laughing, but it was getting more ridiculous by the second. And it was about to peak.

The doctor picked up the tool to look in my ear, and I swear to God before she even put it in my ear, said, “Anata no mimi dijoubu.” Your ear is fine. I understood that no prob, and before any of team Kate’s translators could say anything I said, “Honto?!” Really?!

She held strong with her decision, and as I was still thinking about it, she picked up some other tool. My mind ran through the possibilities of what it was or where she was going to put it. I opened my mouth. She shoved it up my nose. Sinapi started to laugh, and so did I. Now I was shaking with laughter in this chair that was zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzing up and down with and international audience. 

I sooooo badly wanted to take a picture. But there is now way they would have allowed that. Sorry.

She then did look in my mouth and saw the retainer I have glued to my bottom few teeth. She started to ask questions about it, I think mostly out of curiosity, but I thought if she’s gonna try and connect that to my achy ear, I’m going to have to question her medical school. I told her I’d had it since I was 13 and pretty sure it had nothing to do with my ear.

She then held my face as I opened and closed my jaw. It doesn’t usually crack, but this time I let it in the hope that she would give me something in some stretch of a connection. That was a mistake. She said something in Japanese, and the Japanese teacher, team member number 3, translated it. “Umm, she said, your jaw I wrong.” I shot Sinapi a glance, who immediately raised her hand to her mouth to stifle laughter. I was more thankful than ever that she was there.

“Okkkkkk,” I responded. Not really sure who to make eye contact with.  

Team member number 3 translated again, “She says you should see a dentist,” (not a chance in hell I thought) “do you know of one?”

I shot Sinapi another glance, trying to make sure we were on the same page, all the while keeping up the Japanese harmony in this situation. “Maybe Sinapi knows of one?” I said as sincerely as I could muster, while trying to make sure she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

She caught on real fast. “Yup yup, I do.”

Then we were done. We were sent back to the waiting room, so I could pay and get my insurance card back. I was clearly bummed. We waited for a bit in silence all pondering what just happened. Finally the teacher said to us, “Do you believe her opinion?” His wording made me smile. It was clear we didn’t. Sinapi and I just smiled and nodded.

My name was called to pay, it cost me 800yen, about 10 USD without insurance it would have been about 35 USD.  While I was up paying, the teacher and Sinapi were talking. When I sat back down, he said to me, “I feel sorry for you.” He said it so sweetly. I smiled and said, I did too!

Then it was time to go. We thanked just about everyone we walked by, changed our shoes, put on our gloves and walked outside, where we promptly started laughing hysterically.

Between laugher Sinapi told me that, the teacher had clarified with her, how to say, I feel sorry for you, and as soon as I came back he said it. Haha cute.

“Oh and for the record,” I added as we got on our bikes, “we’re not going to see a dentist, or any type of oral surgeon, which I’m sure is what they were hinting at.”

She laughed, “Ya, I soon as I heard that I was like awww hell no!”

We decided a Starbucks was in order. I treated, as I was so grateful for her visiting doctor’s office after doctor’s office with me and serving as translator, all the while keeping me from feeling like I was going crazy.

She mentioned that she knew of a pharmacist that might be able to help. So after Starbucks we headed there. I already liked him better as soon as we walked in, though I promptly was lectured not to use q-tips in my ears (IknowIknowIknowIknowIknow) and was given the full arm X when he described it. Got it sir. Though he did give me some antibiotics and another set of pills to take if the pain gets too bad. I was thrilled. We thanked him again and again, then I grabbed my stuff and headed to my Japanese class.

After class I was exhausted and my ear really was achey. I was encouraged by sources, that shall not be named, to call in sick today, which I did, and am relaxing my “wrong jaw” at home and taking my antibiotics before I head to the Hokkaido Snow Festival for this 3 day weekend with Jessica and friends. The snow festival was actually the real reason I wanted to go to doctor, if it hurts in the cold and I’m going to a snow festival, umm hello!?!!?!!

Ok now it’s time to shower and layer up before heading to the north. Hope everyone has a great weekend!

Newly q-tip free,

Kate