I'd spent the day with the Rock Climbing club learning how to tie the different knots we'll be using in the upcoming outdoor rock climbing trip. I couldn't climb obviously - bad back and all, so I just generally sat around and rested. By the time we'd went for lunch and started back I was feeling about my old self. Suddenly I felt something spasm in below my shoulder blades and my entire back started to cramp. I couldn't stand up. I couldn't even support my own weight. No one else noticed (I was at the back of the line and couldn't speak) so I was left hanging onto the bicycle rack next to the train station by myself. Eventually everyone else realised something was wrong.
"Stu - are you okay?"
"Nnngggh"
The cramp had been on for about a minute at this stage. I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead and the look on everyone else’s face was pretty serious.
Shortly afterwards I recovered the power of speech and we tried to figure out what to do. My limited knowledge of self administered chiropracty failed to produce any viable avenues of treatment. Therefore, a taxi was arranged to bring me to the nearest hospital. So far so good. This is the standard response to this kind of situation right? Its not an emergency so lets not get an ambulance, but still, its bad enough that I need to get treatment soon.
Dave and Andre went to get the taxi... apparently they got in and asked to pick me up, then go to the nearest big hospital. The response wasn't hopeful: "Hospitals are closed on Sunday". WTF?? How can hospitals be closed on Sundays?? Do people not have heart attacks, strokes, unfortunate zipper accidents and chiropratic emergencies on Sundays in Japan? Apparently not. As soon as the driver understood our predicament though he came through for us. After talking to a local hospital on the phone for 10 mins the driver took over the call and just told them we'd be there in 10 minutes. Once we got there though the place did look a bit closed. I say a bit because although the Emergency Ward doors were closed, there were some lights on. The driver new what to do though as he led us (Dave and Andre supporting me) into the side entrance. Parting ways (the driver 3000 yen richer) the guys got me into the emergency room.
The first thing we had to do was fill out a form. Now, I can't read Japanese, much less write it, and the kind of pain I was in wholly prevented me from even writing in English. On this point the hospital was oblivious. I've heard from other sources that everyone who goes to hospital has to fill out a form. And its a different form for every hospital. I also discovered that they then generate a medical card (like a medical insurance card) for your 'convenience' which will only work in that hospital. Another waste of time. Andre took great pleasure in running through the form with me (the guy seems to be easy to please).
After about forty minutes I was taken to be examined by the on staff doctor. The so called doctor looked like a character from Pokemon. He had big hair, a pair of sandals, an un-shaved face (OK, that’s standard issue for Emergency doctors these days) and a Lab coat. After the initial barrage of diagnosis questions I took a look around the room. Everything was so small. And old. And the nurse plainly didn't look like the kind of Japanese 'nurses' I've been led to believe work in Japanese hospitals. In fact, she was clearly only there to gawp at the Gaijin (this was a local hospital for local people after all) and spent more time playing with the Doctor's desk toys than helping with the examination.
Anyway, whilst this was going on, the Doctor took up a big rubber stamp, opened my nice new file, and used the stamp to put a picture of a torso from behind on the page. Taking his red pen, he circled the areas I had indicated as suffering from pain, drew a line to the blank page and wrote "Pain". That was it. That was his diagnosis. I only managed to stifle my laughter with the aid of the spasms of pain shooting up my back. The guys noticed it too. After about a minute of contemplation though the Doc actually seemed to know what he was talking about.
I'd never been manhandled before. But, the X-Ray technician couldn't speak English. He gave up trying to explain which postures I was meant to take and just pushed me around whilst I was lying on the slab with mumblings of "gomenasai" and "onegaishimasu". Still he was fast and the x-rays came out quite nice (I saw them later, and I'm glad to say my organs looked pretty healthy).
Finally we made it back to the examination room and the Doctor wrote up a prescription. He also gave some explanations of what he thought the issue was, how I should treat it (rest for the next few weeks) and explained what the drugs were. He'd prescribed me two suppositories (for the serious pain over the next day or so) and Ibuprofen. I've never been prescribed suppositories before! Turns out they're pretty effective.
Back in the reception Nursey gave me my prescription and asked us to wait. So wait we did. I didn't know why we were waiting for about the first 15 minutes but then Andre pointed out I'd have to pay for the prescription. Good point. But why did I have to wait? The receptionist was just chatting on the phone to his Mum as far as we could tell. I could pay for the prescription at any time right? No... they needed to finish printing my Hospital card before they would let me pay... right. I had to sit in pain for an extra 30 minutes because the system was working its way through my application form. Grrr.
Finally, about three hours after we first arrived, we paid and got on our way.
~~~
Lessons For the Sick Gaijin in Japan:
- Don't get sick on Sunday
- Learn to read and write the kanji for allergies, and any serious illness you've had in the past. Better yet, get a native Japanese who can do this otherwise you can't fill out the form.
- Prepare to wait
- Don't go to a hospital in the sticks. They are old, the doorways are too low and the staff are more interested in your colour than your condition
- Don't get Sick.
SPIFF OUT
