I started the day off great. I woke up early, and went for a run. I made coffee and I talked to some of my favourite people on Skype. I was excited because I’m possibly signing up for a marathon and just the thought of it is making me giddy. Regardless of the fact that I can only comfortably run about 2kms right now! I took a shower and headed in to work to quickly print off some documents that I would need come Monday. I’ve been subbing for a friend for the last few days and haven’t had any chance to prep for my own Monday classes. I am not complaining though: the students were great – with many turbulent boys, which I always enjoy. I was heading out for an afternoon of museums & sightseeing with a friend when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number.
I picked up anyway…and found myself on my way to the hospital. My colleague Jennifer’s condition (she’s the one I’d been subbing for all week) had gotten worse. She was in the ER and needed someone to wait with her. David, the newest AC, had accompanied her there but needed to leave for an hour or two. Jen was being examined by the doctor when I arrived. I didn’t immediately spot her and could only stare around, dumbfounded by the sight of so many sick people sitting around or lying on beds in the hallways. I flashed what I hoped were warm, reassuring smiles to people lying there all alone but most of them were staring sightlessly ahead. They seemed so forlorn that I didn’t know what to do. I just clumsily stood there for a while, wishing there was a way I could let them know that I could help, if they needed it. I wanted to squeeze their arms, pat their foreheads, sit on their beds and chat to wash away their pain but…didn’t want to cause a scene and become known as the demented foreigner so I finally made my way to the nurse’s station.
They were, as always, quite nice and solicitous, and I soon spotted a flash of white skin. I walked up to Jen just as the doctor was sending her for some X-Rays. I went with her. I didn’t think it a good sign when, upon seeing the first negative show up on his screen, the nurse quietly exclaimed: urgh! Urgh!, as I discovered, successfully defeats any language barriers. I let him take a few more before I sidled up to him. “Not good?” I asked. “No, not good” he said. “Pneumonia. See?” I did see. The lung area on the screen was partially covered with swirly white spots.
We were herded back to the main room, where we spent the next 4 or 5 hours. Me, sitting quietly on my seat, experiencing the novelty of a Korean emergency room (complete with lunatic diabetic who would throw herself on the floor and run out of rooms, only to picked up again by what seemed to be her two bodyguards… as well as a sequestred, screaming, high-pitch voiced man who was bodily forbidden to leave and go home), while Jen was prodded, pricked, and asked for blood, urine, or stool samples…again…again…and again. The poor girl was a real sport, calmly answering intimately personal questions and accepting a portable toilet seat in front of a roomful of people. David joined us again at one point and the three of us almost dissolved into giggles when, after about 3 hours of having received the verdict of Pneumonia and waiting to be admitted into a room, a nurse came over and asked Jen what was wrong with her and why she was in today. We kept our cool, though (the face masks thankfully helped to hide our hilarity) and after explaining her condition yet again, settled down for a few more hours of waiting.
I left a bit later on to pick up a few necessities for Jen and met her back at her room. We were explained hospital policy and made friends with her nurse. As I was leaving, I was made to understand that my friend’s condition was quite bad and that I should, really, spend the night. I told the concerned caretaker that, okay, I only needed to run home and freshen up and would then return for the night time vigil.
I hadn’t been home for 25 minutes when my phone rang. It was the nurse, telling me Jen’s condition REALLY wasn’t that great and I should definitely be at the hospital. She (the nurse), was counting on me. I’d just spent a whole afternoon in an ER, was missing out on a wine night with some coworkers, and she STILL,with that one word, managed to make me feel like crap for deserting a friend for a few hours.
I took a shower, cleaned the rabbit cage (it definitely needed it), chugged down a glass of wine (I definitely needed it) and hopped in a taxi.
I’m writing this now, while listening to the gurgling sounds coming from behind the curtain. Jen is in a room with six other people. She definitely didn’t look good when I came back – her fever had gone way up and she had started coughing a lot. It’s dark now, and I’m lying on a cot by her bed, typing... I don’t have any blankets, and someone keeps spitting up phlegm. Jen is moaning in her sleep and is tossing around a lot but her coughing seems to have stopped. Oh, wait, I was lying. I bonded a bit with her doctor in the hallway. We're on a first name basis now, it seems. I really like Korean people: the doctor wanted to chat for a bit and even gave me a hug and a shoulder squeeze when I told her I was fine on the cot and that I didn’t need another chair. A Korean ajumma from two beds down came in unannounced at lights out to make sure we knew where the headlight was. We didn’t need it as the light coming in from the hallway allows us considerable night vision (it could probably be seen from space), but I appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. I just heard a big crash and voices are getting louder in the hallway. I’m going to go check it out.
These are the days of my life.
I picked up anyway…and found myself on my way to the hospital. My colleague Jennifer’s condition (she’s the one I’d been subbing for all week) had gotten worse. She was in the ER and needed someone to wait with her. David, the newest AC, had accompanied her there but needed to leave for an hour or two. Jen was being examined by the doctor when I arrived. I didn’t immediately spot her and could only stare around, dumbfounded by the sight of so many sick people sitting around or lying on beds in the hallways. I flashed what I hoped were warm, reassuring smiles to people lying there all alone but most of them were staring sightlessly ahead. They seemed so forlorn that I didn’t know what to do. I just clumsily stood there for a while, wishing there was a way I could let them know that I could help, if they needed it. I wanted to squeeze their arms, pat their foreheads, sit on their beds and chat to wash away their pain but…didn’t want to cause a scene and become known as the demented foreigner so I finally made my way to the nurse’s station.
They were, as always, quite nice and solicitous, and I soon spotted a flash of white skin. I walked up to Jen just as the doctor was sending her for some X-Rays. I went with her. I didn’t think it a good sign when, upon seeing the first negative show up on his screen, the nurse quietly exclaimed: urgh! Urgh!, as I discovered, successfully defeats any language barriers. I let him take a few more before I sidled up to him. “Not good?” I asked. “No, not good” he said. “Pneumonia. See?” I did see. The lung area on the screen was partially covered with swirly white spots.
We were herded back to the main room, where we spent the next 4 or 5 hours. Me, sitting quietly on my seat, experiencing the novelty of a Korean emergency room (complete with lunatic diabetic who would throw herself on the floor and run out of rooms, only to picked up again by what seemed to be her two bodyguards… as well as a sequestred, screaming, high-pitch voiced man who was bodily forbidden to leave and go home), while Jen was prodded, pricked, and asked for blood, urine, or stool samples…again…again…and again. The poor girl was a real sport, calmly answering intimately personal questions and accepting a portable toilet seat in front of a roomful of people. David joined us again at one point and the three of us almost dissolved into giggles when, after about 3 hours of having received the verdict of Pneumonia and waiting to be admitted into a room, a nurse came over and asked Jen what was wrong with her and why she was in today. We kept our cool, though (the face masks thankfully helped to hide our hilarity) and after explaining her condition yet again, settled down for a few more hours of waiting.
I left a bit later on to pick up a few necessities for Jen and met her back at her room. We were explained hospital policy and made friends with her nurse. As I was leaving, I was made to understand that my friend’s condition was quite bad and that I should, really, spend the night. I told the concerned caretaker that, okay, I only needed to run home and freshen up and would then return for the night time vigil.
I hadn’t been home for 25 minutes when my phone rang. It was the nurse, telling me Jen’s condition REALLY wasn’t that great and I should definitely be at the hospital. She (the nurse), was counting on me. I’d just spent a whole afternoon in an ER, was missing out on a wine night with some coworkers, and she STILL,with that one word, managed to make me feel like crap for deserting a friend for a few hours.
I took a shower, cleaned the rabbit cage (it definitely needed it), chugged down a glass of wine (I definitely needed it) and hopped in a taxi.
I’m writing this now, while listening to the gurgling sounds coming from behind the curtain. Jen is in a room with six other people. She definitely didn’t look good when I came back – her fever had gone way up and she had started coughing a lot. It’s dark now, and I’m lying on a cot by her bed, typing... I don’t have any blankets, and someone keeps spitting up phlegm. Jen is moaning in her sleep and is tossing around a lot but her coughing seems to have stopped. Oh, wait, I was lying. I bonded a bit with her doctor in the hallway. We're on a first name basis now, it seems. I really like Korean people: the doctor wanted to chat for a bit and even gave me a hug and a shoulder squeeze when I told her I was fine on the cot and that I didn’t need another chair. A Korean ajumma from two beds down came in unannounced at lights out to make sure we knew where the headlight was. We didn’t need it as the light coming in from the hallway allows us considerable night vision (it could probably be seen from space), but I appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. I just heard a big crash and voices are getting louder in the hallway. I’m going to go check it out.
These are the days of my life.