Wanderlust

 

At one time I had high hopes for 3 or more different blog posts.  While the inspiration was there, my desire to sit down and put words to my thoughts was not.  So rest assured that my lack of being the cool and frequent blogger is no reflection of lack of living, but laziness and awkwardness in doing the blog thing.  Actually, the last few months have been quite eventful as I have had two good legs that have carried me into the Jirisan Mountains, around Seoul, and into Japan (with the help of airplanes, buses, subways, and one very old car). 

Wanderlust is a strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world.  It is becoming more and more apparent that the more I see....the more I want to see.  You don't realize how many things you haven't seen, places you haven't been, and cultures you haven't experienced until you start to travel.  While it requires me to temporarily miss the people and comforts of home, it affords the opportunity for so much...making me (hopefully) a better, more intelligent, more loving, and more tolerant person when I return to lovely Texas.  We like to look at ourselves and those close to us and put blinders on the rest of the world or those not exactly likely us, but we were all created by God for God and have more in common than we do differences. 

Traveling is an interesting thing.  You come to learn a lot about yourself when you travel.  The best and the worst comes out in a person when they are away from home (even if it's a temporary home).  If you want to know if you stress out easily, are impatient, have a low tolerance for changes and things going wrong, or that you aren't as easy going with others as you thought... take a trip.  It's hard to mask the flaws that you can carefully camouflage when in your comfort zone.  But traveling doesn't only bring out the worst in people...it can bring out the best as well.

Traveling can remind you just how independent you actually are.  It can empower you to take charge, overcome obstacles, and make important decisions with confidence that you might otherwise mull over for days. This is especially true for travelling alone.  If you want to know who you are and what you are made of, go someone by yourself.  There is no one to blame when you take the wrong turn, miss your bus, or take time and money to see/do something that seemed like a good idea at the time but was actually a waste of time.  It's freeing to know that every decision and every minute of your day are not impacted by another.  I've taken trips where I pretended to care about things I didn't care about, or woke up earlier than I wanted to because I was sharing a schedule with someone else or preferred to go along with the flow instead of make my own destiny. 

For Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) I went to Kyoto, Japan.  It was short but fantastic trip.  While I had several friends that were going to Japan, everyone had different interests and wanted to go places I did not want to go (read: Tokyo).  So we had coffee at the airport and then boarded different planes to different locations.  I went to Kyoto alone. I had friendly coffee on the way to Japan and lunch at the airport on the way home with friends...but the rest of the trip was mine and mine alone. 

I went to a city where deer are sacred and therefore have the freedom to roam the town as they please.  I went to the top of a hill where there were monkeys not in cages, but just walking about. The only rules were don't touch them, don't feed them out in the open, and don't look at them in the eyes to avoid aggression (eh...safe enough I suppose).  I saw temples, Buddha's, geishas, bamboo forests, met other lone travelers, and had an all around great time. 

Here are some pictures from my trip for those who keep asking why I don't have any.  

This is the house I stayed in.  Every person for the past 5 years that has stayed here has left a message on the walls and ceilings.  I counted at least 30 countries represented.  It was a super cool place for backpackers.  I met some girls from Finland while there. 

This was day one.  I got lost and found a completely different area that I didn't intend to find or see.  I didn't leave upset that I had found myself lost. 

 

This is Fushimi Inari.  This was a super cool place!  There are huge passages made of torii that go up the side of the mountain.  It was a double bonus if you were a fan of Memoirs of a Geisha as this was one of backdrops of one of the scenes.  

 

This was my absolutely favorite little coffee shop that I found riding my bike through a little neighborhood.  I'm almost positive it was part of their house.  Inside it almost looked like you were in their living room. 

 





 

This was Nara.  This was the land of the sacred deer and there was no shortage of deer to be seen. 

This is the Gion neighborhood.  This is an old traditional neighborhood where the geisha train.  Unfortunately the few times I saw one, they didn't seem too keen on being photographed.  So short of putting up blurs or backs, you just get random pictures of the neighborhood.



















This was the monkey park.  The monkeys are free roaming and I was able to walk as close as I wanted as they swung overhead and did whatever monkeys do all day.  This one group didn't seem to like me much.  I got a little closer and one of them started screaming and heading my direction...so I kindly moved on before I was Japan's next headline "Foreigner Attacked by Band of Monkeys". The only time you were separated was if you wanted to feed them.

I wasn't smart enough to figure out how to upload and insert the pictures in the blog to where they would actually be uniform in some fashion.  You get what you get. 

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My Justice League

If Punky Brewster wasn't so popular during my impressionable years, I think I would have wanted to be Wonder Woman even though she was a little "before my time".  I've always wanted to be independent, do things on my own, and the idea of showing weakness and asking for help just hasn't been my style.  When I was in 5th grade trying to leap over some wooden planks fell and broke my elbow. Wonder Woman would have made that jump, but I was too busy with mutli colored socks weighing me down.  But instead of running to the teacher or to my friend for help, I held my arm and ran in the opposite direction.  I didn't want help.  I wanted to be okay, and I wanted to fix it and do it myself.  The 30 minute recess was obviously not long enough for a broken elbow, and at the end of recess my teacher found me in my swollen glory, and 1 surgery, 1 awesome purple cast, and 2 pins later I was okay.  But even as a kid, I didn't want to be weak, I didn't want help.  I was Wonder Woman. 

Well little has changed.  I knew immediately with my knee that I had to go to the hospital.  But I told everyone I was okay and held onto anything stationary as I limped/hopped/dragged my leg away from those that could and would have helped me.  Thankfully a nice Korean guy named Jay noticed I wasn't okay and when I told him I just needed to get to a taxi, informed me that I wouldn't find a taxi without walking about 10 minutes and gave me a ride.  That was the start of me having to swallow my pride and accept help. 

My biggest fear when this happened and I learned that Korean nurses aren't angels and I'd be a shut in for two weeks prior was that this Wonder Woman was going down. I might as well put on my Punky Brewster socks and accept my impending defeat.  I was in Korea two months exactly when it happened and while I was making friends, I hadn't fostered the kind of friendships that asks for help to the bathroom, or to wash my hair, or to bring me food when my apartment is empty.  But the amazing thing about Korea, is that none of us have family.  So a community forms in such a way that you are able to function without the family and friends you spent so many years back home building and nurturing. So new friends offer to be the one to wait in the waiting room to ensure you come out of surgery okay, and bake you nutrients when fish heads and squid aren't bon apatite, and translate for you when you are the only foreigner in the hospital and everyone is frustrated that simple things can't be conveyed.  These people I like to call my Justice League! (because calling them my Cherie and Margaux doesn't have the same ring to it..and most of you will vaguely remember Punky much less her pals).

So in a super quick who's who...I'd like to introduce you to my Super Heroes that were kind enough to help me and support me even when I said that I was fine and didn't need help.  I questioned being vague and having a generic "the community here is great" blog", but decided that while there were several caring and kind civilians, there were a more important group of super heroes that helped me survive for 4 weeks in a foreign country with one leg.  In no order (and a short description so as not to make this any longer)...

1. Korean Jay - first responder who recognized that I "wasn't okay" even though I said I was, and gave me a ride since we were too far out for taxis to stop.

2. Korean Katie - I probably would have died of a heart attack pre surgery if it weren't for her.  She willingly sat at the hospital with me from 9:30am until 2:00pm, translating for me, getting me ready for surgery, and keeping me company and from being alone.  She since has been super helpful and supportive. She's an angel.

3.  Jennifer - Probably not knowing me well enough to want to have solo coffee with me if I asked, upon learning I was having surgery said she wanted to be there when I got out of surgery.  I was scared I'd be alone, unable to move, and no one to communicate any of those things to.  So she was waiting for me when I came out of surgery and got to experience surgery #2 with me.  She got to help me get to the bathroom so I could keep my dignity and not use a bedpan. She got me pillows, ice packs, and played nurse and friend day 1. She also came back for my first hospital escape and the only time I've laughed since being admitted to the hospital (and it was a good belly I want to pee myself laugh). She's a saint and I'm grateful.

4. Korean Cindy - Unlike many Korean woman, she is outspoken and a little forward and speaks Korean!  This is helpful when you are confused and getting mixed messages from the doctors and nurses.  Cindy shows up and goes into the doctors office to ask questions and get answers.  Cindy speaks the language and keeps everyone in check, and has just been overall kind to me. 

5/6 Irene and Miranda - Life at home for 2 weeks may have been a little harder than life at the hospital.  No one really visits you at home, but both of these girls did.  Both made multiple trips to keep me sane, bring necessary groceries, and bring dinner that wasn't a handful of cereal.  Irene did the same at the hospital and I managed to get a burger and coffee.  I wouldn't have made it without someone close by that could drop in when I needed a pick me up emotionally or via non squid rations. 

7. Tamara - I didn't know her before hurting myself.  By proxy she found out and asked to help.  She visited my home, the hospital, brought books, food, coffee, and again kept me sane.  Not having any conversation (at home) or being around tons of people none of which speak your language gets tough.  Tamara came and brought treats and she and her son kept me company and I am quite grateful for her kindness to a truly complete stranger that isn't such a stranger anymore.

8. Crystal - Crystal is the teacher I replaced.  She came into the office to visit the day I was to leave.  She was "hanging out" for several weeks waiting for her job to start.  She offered to teach for me, and since she knows the kids, the staff, the material...it was a smooth transition that my school was otherwise not looking forward to.  She also stopped in and offered to wash my hair.  So my sanity and physical appearance greatly appreciates the kind gesture.  Not just anyone would be willing to wash your dirty hair in a dirty mop sink. 

9. Zara - The angel of baking.  You can only make it so many meals before you get tired of kimchi and "seafood" that you don't want to go crazy.  And while better, boxed and packaged subpar goods don't sound significantly better.  But Carrot bread, brownies, and banana bread DO!  And there was enough that I have been able to replace breakfast with it each day and still have enough for some snacking.  Not only is she a foreigner, she's a Texan.  So she understands some things better than other people and my need for home cooked food is one of them.  She also has a car now, and has offered to drive me around a bit so that I don't have to go back to being a shut in because i'm not bus capable. 

10. No name Head Nurse - I don't know her name, I just know now that she is the head nurse.  She has been nothing but kind to me since I arrived.  Most of the nurses were scared of me as it's awkward when they don't speak English and I don't speak Korean.  But she didn't seem to mind.  She still came around, still was helpful knowing I was alone, and took a few extra minutes each day to try to communicate through google translate on my phone that was only semi accurate.  But the fact that she was willing to try, and always acknowledged me and smiled made me not completely hate the Korean hospital.  So whoever she is...I love her.  I probably would have turned into crazy bitchy foreigner if it wasn't for her. 

So there you have it.  This is my super hero team of helpers that have made all the difference.  So before assuming I'm super strong to survive this alone in Korea, I didn't.  I may have crumbled if every few days one of the Gwangju Justice League wasn't ensuring that I didn't.  So in addition to getting a new knee, I also got the outlook that life is better as a team than it is alone...even if you are Wonder Woman!

General Hospital ep2: Apples and Oranges

People like to ask what being in a Korean hospital is like, if it's the same, and the easiest way to respond is saying "It's like apples and oranges".  We've all heard the saying (or idiom for the fancy folk) and we'll sometimes it's the best way to sum it all up.  They are both fruit, but they are quite different by comparison. 

I've had my fair share of hospital experiences over the years in the states as I'm accident prone and unfortunate in that way that I get to share the fun stories that always start with "When I was (enter age), I (enter illness, accident, surgery, or hospital visit).  It's built character and given me a pretty solid understanding of what emergency rooms and hospital life are like (at least in Texas).  And while my experience here is very much the experience and perspective of a foreigner, and not all hospitals here are the same as I am not in the really big university hospital (DFW think Baylor or Parkland). I am in the Lake Point, Doctor's Hospital, Medical City, or any other local hospital in a big city.  So don't rake me over the coals if someone reads this and it's not their experience home or abroad...get your own blog and make your own list!

I will assume most reading this have an understanding of hospitals elsewhere so I will rarely talk about the apples...because it's the oranges people want to know about.

1. Gloves.  They just don't wear them here.  Taking blood, putting in IV's, taking out a drainage tube from my knee...pick an activity and then take off the gloves.  The only gloves I have seen were in the operating room and even then only those operating on me had gloves on.  The nurse who put on my mask and monitors...no gloves. 

2. Appointments.  They don't exist.  Almost like the DMV, (but so much more efficient) you just show up, your name goes on a screen putting you in a virtual line, and then you wait.  But the waiting is short.  To see my orthopedic surgeon my wait was maybe 15 or 20 minutes.  So you get told come back and see me on Thursday for a check up, not Thursday at 10:15am (but don't expect to be seen before at least 11am).

3. Length of Stay.  I had complete reconstructive surgery on my ACL and MCL.  I believe at best I would be looking at maybe a 2 day hospital stay back home and I'm not even sure that I would be granted that much.  Here 10 days.  Koreans have crazy work ethic, so essentially the only way you really can get out of work for more than maybe a day...is if you are in the hospital.  There is no "I don't feel well today, I'm not coming in".  You get up, you go to the doctor, and then you go to work.  If you are really bad, you might get someone to cover your for the day while you get an IV and a little rest, but you are "hospitalized" in Korea for far less than in the states, and for far longer.  But before you criticize it, it's necessary if you too sick to work and need 3 days off for a bad case of something.  In looking up recovery times I've found that most were not cleared for returning to work until week 3 or 4 after having just ACL recon.  Ten days after surgery, I get out of the hospital and will return to work on day 11.  It's just the culture. So when I got here every bed was full, but because it's a holiday weekend those who weren't too terribly sick left for a few days and others discharged as it's a holiday.  The only people here are those who need to be. 

3.5 Open Door Policy.  Unless maybe the rule is different for really severe patients..there is no hospital policy on visitors coming in (no visitor times, check-ins, etc) or patients going out.  The girl in the bed next to me hasn't been here in 2 days but all of her belongings are.  The lady across from me at least once a day leaves for hours and hours at a time.  Outside you will see patients standing on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette pushing an IV pole wearing hospital attire.  The rule is there are no rules.  So if you aren't deathly sick and you want to go home for a bit, grab dinner with friends down the street, or need to run to the market on the corner for some snacks....knock yourself out.  No one will stop you from coming or going in my experience. There is a coffee shop next door to the hospital.  Feeling cooped up and sweating from a particularly hot day...yesterday I asked a friend to push me in my wheelchair next door in my hospital jammies with a taped down IV port for an iced coffee and 30 minutes of real air conditioning.  So as strange as it should have looked (and as it felt), it was probably the most normal and Korean thing I've done to date.



a little rolling screen that blocks half
room in the event of a real procedure
needing to take place.

4. Shared rooms.  Other than recovery rooms and similar situations, back home everyone pretty much has their own room/bathroom. Not here.  My floor has I think 2 private rooms that you pay significantly more to utilize (with reason) that resemble an "American hospital room".  Everyone else goes into a shared room of 6 or 7 males or females.  Each has a bed, a cot under their bed, a cabinet for personal items and a small mini fridge for drinks built into the cabinet.  Also shared are the community bathrooms and shower rooms.  There is one open shower room for all the women on my floor and a bathroom with 3 stalls and one sink for all the women on the floor.  The males have the same.  So roughly 60 patients share a his and hers shower room, and about 6 total bathroom stalls. 

5. Privacy.  There is none.  Save yourself the HIPPA

My notecard
 

 phone call, it just doesn't exist here.  I have 5 roommates and there are no curtains separating the beds, no special room for when the doctor does his rounds to discuss your illness or to do a check up or change my bandages.  On the front of each bed is a large notecard with your name, age, date you entered the hospital, and what you are being treated for in 3 or 4 words. So I can tell you who has a burn on their left foot, who has a fever, and who has liver disease.  Luckily....no one really cares. 




medicine come sealed with yourname and info. 
Nurses just deliver them like mail.

6. Nurses.  They do very little here.  If teaching isn't for you, learn the language and be a nurse here.  It has to be the easiest job you could ever imagine.  They pass out meds, the check temp and blood pressure (I've only seen them actually chart the results maybe once a day), put in IV's, and ask how you are maybe twice a day (although this never changed my medication regimen or treatment) .  There is no call button on every bed to beckon a nurse.  They do not personally assist you as that is not their job.  Ask them to, and they will likely get uncomfortable and look around wondering what to do as it's not a part of the job description.  Need help getting out of bed, or to a bathroom...don't ask the nurse.  Would you like something to drink, nope not her job.  Is your IV empty?

No decorative nursing scrubs

  Get moving to the front desk unless you want to wait until the next time they come in and then have to flush it as its been empty too long and blood is entering the line.  If you need the nurses desk, there is a number you can call or you simply get up and go to the front desk where they will switch out your IV there.  There was no saying I'm in pain and they add a shot to my IV that wasn't already scheduled. And none of my nurses speak English.  There is no fancy translation machine or here is a print out in English of the medication we just stabbed you with in the ass...you just roll with it and when the nurse does her rounds you either say "ahpaeyo" or "ok".  The head nurse will use google translate on my phone to be nice but the rest do their job and move on. 

7.  Self Serve/Family Duties.  You or your family are expected to do all the things the nurses don't do.  Want help walking to the bathroom then your daughter, mother, brother, grandma, best friend does the job.  Thirsty?  Drinks don't come with the meal and there is a hot and cold water dispenser near the front desk...you or your family can get up and get it yourself or you can buy and keep it in your mini fridge as no one is bringing you ice chips, water, or anything else.  Bed pan I believe is also the expectation that family is emptying it.  They made a few exceptions for me the first day since I was unable to get up and I obviously don't have family here.  So they put a bedpan under my bed and after I used it, could just return it under the bed and they would then empty it on their next visit in.  This was the what I understood from charades and one or two words I understood.  I assure you that I refused to use it and leave it under the bed and had sweet friends who helped me get to the bathroom despite the bedpan. and then I held it until doctors rounds the next day after breakfast to get the okay to try and move on my own so the nurses would stop freaking out that I was trying to move around and that I was not using my bedpan.

7.5 That one was long.  Meal times just like at home, a tray is brought in and sat on the tray table.  However when you are done, you have to get up and walk it to the end of the hall where you put your empty tray in the rolling tray holder.  If you can't get up, you need someone to do it for you, or you learn how to balance a tray on a wheelchair while pushing the IV with one foot and using your hand to push your wheelchair to the tray location.  Chopsticks and spoon....you bring those from home and you wash them yourself after each meal.  So you'll be thirsty and confused if you don't bring your own silverware, cup, drinks, etc. 

8.  Air Con. Back home hospitals are known for being unnecessarily freezing year round.  Here...it's the opposite.  There are two windows in our room and 90% of the air comes from there..too bad its May!  There are times where while it's still hot and i'm sweating, there seem to at least be a little "new neutral air" so there may be some sense of fan usage at times but often I find it cooler outside than inside.  I get out of bed sometimes just to give my sheets and my back a chance to "dry".  It's lovely (especially since I'm not permitted to shower!!)

9.  Germs.  Have to be everywhere.  I've seen 3 patients wash their hands after the bathroom and I watch and listen.  They all brush their teeth 6 times a day but never see the same rules applying to their hands.  I have a blood drop on my bed sheet as we speak as the nurse drew blood and had to transfer it into the little vials as they do it the old school way. When getting an IV, there was a tiny splatter of blood on my tray table..I washed it off.  2 days ago a nurse left the end of a need or IV that she took out on my cabinet top.  I left it there and when I woke up later from a nap it was gone.  When my drainage tube came out, it was done on my bed...and there was seepage onto the pillow under my knee.  The doctor took of the pillowcase and called it a day.  They clean the ends of IV's disinfect stuff, but the rest seems to come out in the wash.  It's just not a concern.  While not germs I'd like to note that spitting is a Korean thing, everyone here has seen it and hated it.  But living with 60 Koreans and being across from the shower room...I hear it constantly, especially in the morning.  Its disgusting and flemmy and worst than the sound of my alarm. 



One of my many IV ice packs.  Waste not, want not!

10.  Technology.  Not sure what the right word is here...but things aren't exactly state of the art.  At home everyone I know used a polar cooler to circulate cold around the knee to eliminate swelling.  There were slings or special pillows for elevating the leg.  None of that happens here.  If they have it, I wouldn't know it!  Post op, a friend had to go ask for an additional pillow to put under my leg as I was laying in a bed with just me a blanket and a pillow.  We also had to ask for ice packs.  The ice packs....are frozen IV bags.  I only wish I could make that up.  So while I've been told that isn't the case everywhere...it is the case here.  I live in the richest district of my city and at least my floor, uses frozen Saline IV bags.  Korea gets a 10 across the board (even from Russia) and take the Gold for creativity..but they lose out a little on effectiveness and attentiveness when it comes to the nursing staff. 

So while I could go on and one and have an honorable mention list...Letterman would not approve of me breaking the rules of my Top 10 list (in no specific order).  So there you have it.  Apples and Oranges.

Both are fruit, both are "well-being", and while categorically the same, it's like comparing apples and oranges.  I prefer apples, but they aren't in season and far more expensive.  So I have assimilated to the orange, learned what makes it unique, and even come to appreciate it some ways.  But one thing is for sure, the orange will forever affect the way I see the apple. 

General Hospital Ep.1

Before coming to Korea I started a list of things I wanted to do and see. On the list were things like hiking beautiful mountains, camping, temples, experiencing the culture.  I wanted a unique experience out of Korea. All too often foreigners come and immediately seek out the foreigner bars and pizza and never stray far from those. While I'd like to say that I've done all (or any) of those things on my list, I haven't. (insert shame here) I've seen the mountains, but only from afar.  I own a sleeping bag, but I use it as a blanket in my apartment. I wanted to experience Korean culture, and while it's not any on my list, I'm still getting it.  I'm in the hospital.  Just when I got the hang of navigating the landscape and making friends to enjoy it all with, I hurt myself.  For two weeks I will live at Gwangju Suwan Hospital (광주 수완 병원) to be exact.  It's not gorgeous landscape or rich in history and story, but it is very much a part of the Korean culture...and so very different from the hospitals I know.  I am keeping a tally of all the differences and quirks of my hospital experience and plan to maybe make my next blog a list of all the interesting things about the hospital here.  But because many back home have asked about my surgery...I decided to try and get a snapshot of it here. 

I tore 3 ligaments in my knee and on Friday, May 10th I went in with the understanding that my MCL was healing nicely (we put off the surgery in place of bed rest for this purpose) and that I would have reconstructive ACL surgery.  There are several ways of doing it and my doctor decided that he would harvest a ligament from a cadaver (i'm officially part Korean!) and transplant it into my knee.  With two Koreans translating for me, this is what I knew.  Surgery would be an hour and a half, I'd be knocked out, and it was pretty routine. 

My friend and translator was by my side all morning and walked me all the way to the operating room doors where I was officially separated from communicating with the world I was in.  I was put on a table and they began strapping down my arms and putting monitors on me.  Then a pink phone shows up in my face.  " 마취 --> Anesthesia" Then the nurse begins typing again and "roll to side".  I was minutes from being cut open and I was relying on the one way line of communication provided by a Samsung Galaxy 3.  At that moment though it made all the difference.  So I rolled over, felt a needle enter my spine and felt my legs start to go numb.  Then the mask went on.  I started breathing waiting for the lights in my head to shut off .........and then nothing.  A nurse walked over and ran her fingers over my eyes as if to shut them and said "go sleepee".  I kept my eyes open and then felt the pressure of being cut into.  It was happening and I was awake.  I'm not sure if I've ever had more real and honest prayers then that moment. I don't know that most people curse when praying but at that moment I think panic trumped any sort of eloquent faithful speech and got straight to the point.  

Magically (or not so magically at all) I managed to calm down and deal with being alert during the operation.  That is until I felt a weird sensation and heard the sound of a drill and then metal on metal hammering as if the construction workers outside my apartment had joined us.  Then panic won and my face communicated terror.  But the nurse saw me and quickly ran to the corner and came back and said "M P 3?" and then said "K-Pop" and put in the earbuds.  I could still hear it and feel the uncomfortable sensations but life was better with the K-Pop than without.  I ask what time it is and realize the finish time has come and gone.

After 3.5 hours (not 1.5 hours) the pink phone returns and "almost finish".  When done, we hop on an elevator (with about 7 men, women, and children visiting family members...awkward!) and get an xray of my leg and then back up to my room. 

Fast forward an hour or more and in walk two nurses with a gurney.  With the help of my friend, I am back on the gurney and headed to I don't know where.  (no pink phone this time) So my friend Jennifer follows us and we return to the familiar door of the operating room where the doctor begins talking to my friend (he later asked if she was my sister) and as I'm being wheeled toward the bed I hear "you need to explain that to HER".  The doctor then shows me a picture of an xray of my knee with a metal pin in it.  (I didn't know I was getting pins...but I guess there was a lot I didn't know) He then explains that it needs to be flush, and mine is not.  It is quite a bit to the side and needs to be moved.  "Short operation, 15 minutes".  I then get strapped down again but this time...I'm wiggling toes and starting to move the ankle.  The nerve block is starting to wear off.  No worries, I'm sure I'll get a shot of morphine or something to curve any pain.  And then I get cut open again.  "tell if you feel pain" he says. and then I hear CLANK and my body reacts and jumps off the table as I start yelling "ahpaeyo" (It HURTS!) "one more time" the doctor says as he hammers the hell out of my knee 6 or 7 more times as I grip the arm rest, bounce off the table with every pop and the tears roll down the sides of my face.  "Finishee" he says as I feel them sewing me back up.  

Then he proceeds to make a joke about the "water" on my face.  If I didn't have an arm tied down, in the name of all things unholy....I would have punched him in his throat.  Then back up to my room I went to start the "healing" process with a baby ice pack (IV bag full of frozen water) that is a joke and a flimsy pillow for elevating my leg.  Then the nurses and I fought over whether or not I could have a pillow under my head.  They may be on the edge of technology in some areas....but I'm not sure that detailed post op hospital care qualifies as one. 

The following day I found out that the additional 1.5 hours and strong pain on the inside of my knee was a result of having complete MCL reconstruction in addition to the ACL.  So 2 pins, a harvested ligament, and 5 scars later....I am told I'm on the road to recovery. Hello Korea, thanks for the welcoming gift.

 ( So no putting my foot down for two months, crutches for sure for 3 months, and 6 months for getting back to normal..guess I won't be the next Korean sports superstar).

Korea: A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

“Fear is a manipulative emotion that can trick us into living a boring life.”

 

Friends back home like to ask questions like "What weird things have you eaten?" but here the most common question you are asked by Koreans and foreigners alike is "What made you come to Korea?" or one of the ten variations of that very question.  Now don't think I am not just as guilty of asking the same question.  In my head I expected the foreign community (read: non-Koreans) to be mostly American, and appreciate things like Chick-fila and queso.  But I got here and have never been anywhere before where I was able to encounter so many different people from so many different places.  I've met Americans, Canadians, New Zealanders/Kiwis, South Africans, Nigerians, Irish, and the list goes on.  I thought my lesson on culture and the world was simply going to be from a Korean standpoint.  I was wrong.

“It wasn't necessary to win for the story to be great, it was only necessary to sacrifice everything.”  

But regardless of where they are from, every one of them packed their life into a suitcase, woke up, boarded a plane, and moved to an unknown country leaving the life they knew behind.  That one event, ties every foreigner in Korea together in a unique way.  We all made the decision to leave a life in our respective countries to do life differently here.  So it can be intriguing as to what would make any person crazy enough to leave family, friends, pets, jobs, and the known...for that which is unknown. 

“The human body essentially recreates itself every six months. Nearly every cell of hair and skin and bone dies and another is directed to its former place. You are not who you were last November.”  

Most people start their travel blog with their first post being when they decide to leave and explain why.  I am not blog savvy so I waited until Korea to make my first post.  Now that life has slowed me down, I think it may be important to back up and explain why just a little bit better.

“If the point of life is the same as the point of a story, the point of life is character transformation."

In my head I've always been a big dreamer. I'd stay up at night with plans of how to change the world as if I was smarter than everyone and the answer to the world's problems were just a 2am cup of coffee away.  In my head I've also always been adventurous and exciting, but I had no stripes to prove it.  Instead I sat on the couch in my apartment with my dogs and read the blogs of my friends who were half way around the world and doing amazing things.  I would then spend hours looking up and researching all the things I could possibly do around the world, but then make up excuses about how I have a car payment, an apartment lease, dogs, a career...I was responsible! (read: fear).  Most of my other friends never settled themselves making the transient life easy.  I had roots planted already, my trajectory was set. Fear would have me live a boring life.  (boring for me...don't be offended friends with kids and diapers and gymnastics practice.)

At 18, I would have told you that at 30 I would be married and have a kid.  At 22, I had plans to make a difference and change the world (or at least whatever community I was living in).  I was ambitious. A husband and kids are just an expected part of adulthood and a step in life that everyone reaches.  So I too penciled it into my 20's.  So I went about making plans for my future always expecting that I needed to account for certain things. I had long term goals but hadn't mapped out a plan to achieve them as I was still waiting for all the things life tells me are supposed to happen when you're 25 and 26.  I knew I'd one day go to grad school but thought, it will be easier when I'm married and have a second income...I'll wait.  And plan after plan was being dictated by the sense that I was always waiting on life to start.  What I didn't realize was that I was wasting my life waiting on a life that didn't exist to start.

Then I read a book.  A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  (hear the heavens open and the angels sing.  This was the aha moment) It is all about life and how to live a better story but not in a self help kind of way, but a literary/take action kind of way.  I read the contents of the book in about 36 hours, and when I finished I wanted to climb a mountain, run a race, talk to everyone I passed on the street, do all the things I was always too afraid to do, and start living the life that I had.  I wanted a better story and I wanted to be the heroine, not the supporting actress in my own story. 

So a short time after that, I applied for grad school with 48 hours to meet the deadline.  I got accepted and quit my job with no real plan on how to support myself through grad school.  I called home and asked my family if someone would take me and my dogs in so that I would not go into more debt than necessary.  Finally life was beginning to move again. When I graduated with my masters all my grad school friends started excitedly looking for that big job and responsibility (as many were fresh out of college to begin with) and I panicked.  I didn't want to go back to the same 9-5 job where I question if I was making a difference and if this is what the 22yo version of me expected when I was going to conquer the world.  I wanted to feel alive, and an apartment lease and job similar to what I had wasn't going to do it this time.  I needed to keep moving forward. 

“And once you live a good story, you get a taste for a kind of meaning in life, and you can't go back to being normal; you can't go back to meaningless scenes stitched together by the forgettable thread of wasted time.”  

So the plan was to travel, it's what I've always wanted to do.  But I was fearful so I wanted to stay safe.  I'd go to the UK and do social work. But thanks to recently changed Visa restrictions that was no longer as easy as it was in years past.  But I was determined to uproot and go, just wasn't sure where. So once I opened to the idea of teaching English as a mode of travel, I just had to decide on a country.  Asian countries were all at the bottom of my list, but doors kept shutting.  Then came a book/documentary "Half the Sky".  I highly recommend reading it or watching the 6 hr documentary that is now on Netflix.  It has nothing to do with teaching English, but I fell I love with Cambodia and Vietnam and suddenly I had a new outlook on wanting to love me some Asians and travel southeast Asia.  Korea happened to be the easiest, safest, and best paying countries for teaching English and seemed like a perfect start to seeing how a girl from small town Texas who has always lived within 2 hours from home would do without the safety of family, friends, smiling strangers, and diners that serve sweet tea and gravy with everything. 

So Korea wasn't my plan, nor was teaching English.  But I was a 29 year old social worker from Texas who wasn't married (gasp) and didn't have kids, and suddenly found that I had en entire life waiting to be lived and ground soft enough to uproot with little disruption.  So I packed my back, told my family and friends I loved them, and boarded a plane for the unknown and started living.  I live in Gwangju Korea, I ate my birthday cake with chopsticks, and I'm happy!

“Job found contentment and even joy, outside the context of comfort, health or stability. He understood the story was not about him, and he cared more about the story then he did about himself.”  

 

 

**All quotes in italics are from A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller.  You can find Half the Sky at any bookstore or again the documentary on Netflix. It's about oppression around the world so don't expect a cute doc about penguins or koala bears.  **

The Language of Time

*The one about my injury, my love language, and some extra ramblings for boredom sake*

Statistics and warnings were created for people like me.  Everything from wet floor signs, how my mph you can drive on a donut before it blows, to 1 in 4 will have a given negative outcome in any given situation.  I am a walking something waiting to happen.  When I was in 5th grade I tried to jump over a piece of wood on the playground and got two pins in my elbow and a cool purple cast for all my classmates to sign.  When I was 12 and getting baptized I ignored the "slippery steps" sign getting baptized and did the Pastors job for him.  When I was 14 I had a dress an inch too long and fell onto the stage as the maid of honor at my sisters wedding.  As an adult I did things like drive my car into the side of a metal barrel in an empty parking lot.  I have a history of taking the least likely outcome and making it my reality.  If I thought the oceans and time zones might separate my from my fate, I was wrong.  I'd been in Korea two months and finally stopped getting lost on the bus and started finding friends that I looked forward to seeing again.  In support of a women's shelter I participated in a charity volleyball tournament with some friends.  During the planning stages of the tourney I talked over the details with the organizer and because of the weather it was being moved inside.  Her hope was that no one tried to be a hero and make rock star moves and hurt themselves since we would be playing on a hard floor.  I assured her that few would take the games seriously and that everyone would have fun..there was no need to worry that someone would be dumb enough to risk injury to make a play. 

I didn't know it then but I was only half right.  No one acted a fool and did a suicide to save their team from losing a point, everyone had a good time, but one person got hurt.  That person was me.  I did nothing crazy, but managed to pivot off my leg in such a way to twist my knee and them crumble down on my leg folded beneath me.  Long story short I managed to tear 3 ligaments, get an xray, an MRI, a temporary cast, 2 crutches and an appointment for reconstructive knee surgery with a 10-14 day hospital stay.   That surgery was then postponed for 2 weeks in hopes of allowing certain things to heal, making surgery more successful.  So I was given orders to stop working, stop bearing weight on my left leg, and to stay home for 2 weeks and rest.  Rest is something that I excel at.  I generally can sleep better in my car than most do at night with their favorite pillow.  But after one full week of "rest", I'm restless and I'm learning things about myself.

For 8 days I've been home. Not even home really, but a small one room Korean apartment that I have yet to make my own with a single decoration, and with almost all my friends at least a 40-60 minute  bus ride away. I tried leaving but learned that I only hurt my leg more for attempting it, so I stay home.  I get at least one or two messages a day asking how my leg is, and it's doing pretty good. I'm learning to get around without my leg, can capture and move things with crutches from my bed, and am owning this injury.  But what I'm not winning is the battle with my emotions.  I'm used to being with coworkers and funny kids all day and with friends on the weekends.  I usually spend relatively few non-sleeping hours in my apartment. Now I spend 24 of 24 hours in my apartment. I'm bored and I'm lonely.

A friend here recently brought up "love languages" and while I don't usually speak in those terms, in order to answer her questions I had to actually contemplate how I show love to others and what makes me feel most loved.  I tried to think "what do I do or say with the people I love".  I leave fudge on their doorstep, I drive 12 hours to Nebraska alone at 9pm because my friend is homesick, I crochet a blanket, I wash the dishes, I hold the baby so the toddler can be put to sleep, I leave a note on their windshield wiper....but those are all ways I showed love.  I struggled a bit with what made me most feel loved.  But being home alone for 8 days has made it abundantly clear.  Quality time.  I feel loved when I'm spending time with people.  I'm happy when I'm spending time with people.  Gifts are nice, as are words, but they don't make my cup runneth over with love.  I appreciate when people drop off gifts, or send me a text to check on me, but when I feel the best is when I see people.  I think life is meant to be shared, and there is nothing communal about living in a 15x15 Korean shoebox alone while the rest of the world does life together.  I like the quote "Happiness is only real, when shared".  It's from the book Into the Wild, and while I'm not about to eat poisonous berries and die alone in the wilderness, I think life, love, and happiness are all meant to be shared.  And for the next 3 weeks....I am cut off from sharing those with the community I've made here in Korea and even further from being able to share them with my family and friends back home.   So if I am a little too quick to respond to everything on facebook that normally I wouldn't respond to at all...it's boredom talking.  But in return I'll get a new knee and a clear understanding of just what my love language is if I happen to be asked ever again.

My name is Leslie, I'm accident prone, and my (receiving)  love language  is quality time and acts of service.

Next blog post: General Hospital (tales from my stay in a foreign hospital) o.O

They day I found wealth, love, and everything went right for the day

So I have been in Korea almost a month now, and it seems like time has blown by as I still feel like I just got of the plane last week.  Since I've been here I've fielded a lot of the same questions so I'll start by answering a few of them, then I'll tell you where my wealth is coming from. (and how you too may be able to find the same wealth).  My birthday was last week, and it was a pretty good birthday for being in a strange place with no "friends".  Several people asked "what did you do, where did you go for your birthday?", so I'll quickly fill you in. It was a Monday and pretty uneventful.  I was never much for celebrating in the states, so it was no letdown that it was just another Monday here. But for being in a new country, Korea was quite nice to me. 

When I got to work I had a present and an envelope on my desk.  Inside the bag was an adorable little plant that I named "Irene" after the co-worker that gave it to me.  In the envelope was a Starbucks gift card from my boss, and then my Korean co-teacher that sits next to me gave a little box of chocolates that were quite tasty.  I assumed that was the extent of my birthday acknowledgement until the lights in the teachers room went off and in came a cake with candles that made the room glow.  So I got cake and a song, and then my day of teaching started.  Most of my kids did not know it was my birthday, but magically they were all good for me.  I appreciated that.  When the day was over, I went home, had the slice of cake I bought from the bakery the day before with a glass of milk and chatted with my family before bed.  The following day my favorite student gave me a folded up piece of paper with a picture saying "happy burthday yesterday, I love you".  It was sweet and it was perfect, and I was reminded of why she was my favorite.  So that was my birthday for those who have asked and never got a response.

So as usual I have continued making mistake after mistake here in Korea, mostly surrounding the public transportation and just getting turned around.  Well that all changed this weekend.  If I can learn to be on time to the bus stop, I have mastered the bus system.  So now I am making other mistakes, but due to trial and error I'm rounding the learning curve pretty quickly.  I have also been getting asked about friends a lot.  We'll that's been a slow process.  It's hard to make friends when you

don't have friends.  So for the first few weeks I was feeling a little frustrated that I didn't have built in friends here.  But once again, it's coming around.  I've met a few really nice people here and they have been super helpful in showing me around, introducing me to more people, great food, and keeping me company on the weekends.  I've met people that aren't exactly "for me" and then I've met people who I really liked and would gladly hang out with anytime and get to know better.  So for those who have been asking what the friendship front looks like...rest assure that it's getting better every day. 

So today I decided to brave the bus system again and attempt a bus transfer as church is all the way across town.  We'll other than being late for my first bus, I got a little late but without issue.  Afterward I was chatting with a guy "Drew" I had met the previous week from Georgia about tablets and Kindles and books when up came an old Korean man.  He was super friendly and pretty fluent in English and struck up conversation. He apparently introduces himself as "the Man from Heaven" and is a little nutty but good hearted all the same.   During the conversation he proceeded to question the relationship between myself and Drew and we assured him we were just friends. After Drew left, he continued to talk to me about our relationship and that perhaps we were a match made in heaven.   I did not know it at the time, but apparently Koreans like to play matchmaker and think everyone should date and get together.  I thought it was unique to this guy, but apparently its a common thing among older Koreans (so I'm told).  He then asked where I was from.  When I told him Texas, his eyes lit up and he got very excited.  "You wealthy" he said.  He proceeded to tell me he wanted to go to Texas, and buy himself some land so he could dig up oil and bring it all back to Korea and be rich.  I'm not sure if he just used the motion of digging with a shovel for conversational purposes or if he really thinks its possible to dig 8 or 9ft and strike oil.  I agreed that there were people/companies in Texas making a lot of money off oil, most people don't have oil in Texas.  He asked if I had land, and I explained my family has a few acres in Texas but that they weren't on top of oil.  "Have they dug to see?" again making shovel motions. 

adorable cupcakes that are unrelated to my blog :)

So from that point forward everyone who walked was told that I was going to be wealthy and that they were going to be envious of my wealth.  No one understood what he was talking about but I got a kick out if it anyway.  (If I don't make friends, I'm going to tell myself  its because they are envious, because we all know I'm likeable :) Before leaving he again asked me if I would like him to play match maker in order to get my made from heaven relationship going.  I assured him that I would be okay and did not need him to play match maker, so he settled on waiting till it happened and then being able to say "what a good couple". Not sure if he is just the funny crazy old man or if he is the modern day Asian cupid sent to find me a husband.  Either way..I like him, he's funny.  I wish I knew him when I was in high school looking for that sort of dedication out of a friend wanting to hook me up and play matchmaker. 

The rest of the day went quite well.  I met a lot of really great girls at church, got to eat at my first traditional restaurant where I had to take off my shoes and sit on a pillow on the floor, and was taken to a great bakery. This one had some western style pastries and I got a chocolate chip scone that was better than most in the states (aside from Julie's famous homemade chocolate chip scones aka The scones that will land a girl a husband) and I was a happy camper.

As a side note, I have officially started washing clothes and hanging them to dry isn't quite as terrible as it sounds, however I have found that my drying rack quickly turns into a catch all for clothes.  So I we'll see if I can actually learn to hang them up.  Korea is getting better every day and I'm slowly but surely figuring out how to live successfully and happily in Korea.  And for my parents and those that have asked, I will try to soon post a video or some pictures of my school and how my schedules works at school.  It's pretty fantastic!

Bus 39 to Nowhere, Sea Salt, and The Stairway to Heaven (my best day yet).

So I've been here almost 10 days and so far I've only posted my apartment and my mix up at the love motel.  There have been so many more things, and in my head I write blogs as I am experiencing new things, but I never seem to thing about it when I'm sitting at the computer.  But now I am, and so I will.

So we will start with last weekend. When I decided to move to Gwangju, I was put in contact with a friend of one of my best friends, who has been living in Korea for almost 4 years and lives in my city.  So they (Steven and Miranda) invited me to church, and instead of having to find it on my own (which I wouldn't have) they invited me to stay the night Saturday night and they'd take me Sunday to church and then show me around downtown afterward.  So we got on a bus Sunday morning and went to breakfast where I had some Korean version of sticky chicken fried rice that I thought was pretty good although I miss not being able to soak all my rice dishes in soy sauce.  We then took another bus to the church.

We got there a little early so we went up to see if they were having a prayer meeting we could join.  SO up the stairs we go, and round and round we went.  I learned during the journey up we were headed to the 6th floor, which I had already calculated as twelve turns as there were two sets of stairs between each floor.  When we got there, there was no one there.  So down we went down 6 floors and had a cup of coffee and back up we went.  I have never in my life climbed so many stairs for Jesus or anything else for that matter (11 up and 11down), but it was worth it.  I liked the church a lot.  There was a good mix of foreigners and Koreans and the service was all in English.  (yes, I secretly snapped a photo from the inside of my coat)

Afterward, I had the chance to meet a few really nice people before we went back down the stairs and back on a bus to downtown.  The bus seemed easy enough (which I later learned was a facade.)  Once downtown I was drawn a map, and shown where foreigners hang out, good places to eat, and then got the chance to take fun pictures of nasty Korean food and bad English signs (which I posted on FB).  We then ate lunch and it was the best meal I've had since I've been here.  (I couldn't get a good picture of it and we ate most of it before I thought to try and take a picture)It cleared out any sinuses I might have had as it was spicy, but it was super tasty and cooked at our table on this flat round skillet thing.  Not Genghis Grill style or anything crazy.

That evening we met up with two of their friends Damien (a Belgian) and his Korean wife Juhyang at a coffee shop to play some games.  What Damien failed to mention is that the game he wanted to play, all the cards were in Dutch.  But we played anyway, and I had a blast.  I drank coffee, ate a pastry, and played a Dutch game in a Korean coffee shop with a Korean, a Belgian, and a guy who lived in Arlington TX before moving to Korea. It was an all around great night, and hands down my favorite day start to finish.

So skip forward a week to this weekend.  Friday night I was told about a band playing at a local bar foreigners frequent by a coworker of mine.  I was told it was Korean Rockabilly and that the bass player played a stand up double bass.  I was sold, and so I went.  I took the taxi as I was running low on time and didn't want to be late. I saw a cowboy hat, two Gretsch guitars and an upright bass and suddenly didn't feel so much like I was in Korea.  I had a good night and turned in early by Korean standards hailing a cab at 2am. 

So today my one goal was to tackle the bus.  So I googled what bus I would take if I wanted to go downtown and found that the #9 and #39 should both get me there.  So I walked to the bus stop and the board showed that #39 would stop there and there were two other foreigners there which made me think I was on track to find downtown.  On the bus I learned that they were from South Africa just before they got off the bus as they were at their desired destination just a few stops from where we started.  So I listened to music, read my kindle, and road and road until no one was on the bus but me.

A few minutes later the bus stops and the driver starts talking.  They don't usually talk, so I gathered by context clues that since I was the only one on the bus that I had taken the wrong one and this was the last stop for that bus.  So I got off.  Bus 39 took me to nowhere (or the last stop before the bus transportation station) with nothing around that was open and I was the lone foreigner hanging out on a bus bench with no idea where I was going or what bus I would take to get me there.  So I walked.  I knew that worst case scenario I could put out my hand and taxi home, but I saw lights in the distance and knew a

neighborhood was nearby, so I decided to explore.  I still don't know exactly where I was, but at least what I found was a place with people, and open shops, and plenty of taxi's to get me home.  So I decide to eat something while in the area and found a little street stand and for $2 got two sticks of food.  One with some sort of meat and one with a potato thing on it rolled in some sort of chili powder.  Since it was only $1 a stick I considered some of the other mystery things but decided one stick per hand was plenty. 

So off I went through the streets of an unknown neighborhood with dinner in my hand looking at all the restaurants that had fresh seafood tanks in the front so you can either eat live octopus or have freshly cooked octopus (your choice I assume).  Once done, I grabbed a $4 taxi and went back to my neighborhood where I grabbed a pastry at one of the local bakery's.  It this soft bread thing with cream cheese inside and some nuts and grains on top. It's quite good. I was cold and thought that coffee, a pastry, and snuggled up with a movie sounded pretty delightful. Then I went by my new favorite little local grocery/corner store to buy coffee and one or

two groceries.  I wanted to try out my new rice cooker a girl from work gave me so I thought I'd grab a bag of rice and such to make dinner on Sunday.  When I got home, I realized that I had purchased a 3lb bag of sea salt.  I'm sure the man at the counter thought I was crazy for wanting that much salt. Maybe I'll find a recipe for a sea salt scrub or something.  If you have any ideas let me know.  Until then, I'll try a little harder to pay attention to the white stuff in the giant bag.  Who puts salt in a bag anyway?!

 

So my night was not exactly as I had expected.  I never made it downtown, I did not master the art of using the public transportation system, and I did not purchase anything I can cook for dinner Sunday. 

But I don't mind.  In Texas, I probably would have been frustrated and miserable.  But I'm not in Texas, I'm in Korea.  And the great thing about Korea is...I have no expectations.  Everything is an adventure.  So my goal was to learn to ride the bus and I did.  I learned a $1.20 lesson that I still don't get it and will try again.  I had a plan to roam downtown. Instead I found my way out of nowhere to a different neighborhood that I got to explore while eating my $2 dinner of meat and potatoes.  So tomorrow I will pay $10 to take a taxi to church so I actually get there, and will take another $1.20 shot at trying the bus back home.  Until then, I'll happily stay at home, drink coffee, have a piece of pastry, and fall asleep watching a movie on Netflix.