This time it was my turn. Waking up on Thursday morning with a shooting pain in my right eye, probably caused by the fact that I have been falling asleep without taking my contact lens (I only wear one, in my right eye) out, I knew something was wrong and that I needed help.
I thought I would pay a visit to my local emergency room and that is what I did, with sleeping baby in tow. Arriving about 7:30am, I was told that there was no opthamologist on call and to go to the clinic area, which didn't open until 8:30am. This is the thing about Japanese emergency rooms - you must call before to see if the specialist you need is there and if not, you need to call around to see which hospital has that specialist on call.
I waited, watching as the woman behind the counter arrived and starting preparing her desk for the day. Taking a sterile wipe, she cleaned her entire desk off, moving then to the counter where patients filled out forms to clean that desk as well. In addition to pens, there were reading glasses in a little container to be used if needed - a nice touch.
At 8:30 I went up to her and explained my problem. The woman had me sit down and left for a few minutes, returning to tell me the opthamology department was very busy and I would have to wait 2 or 3 hours to see a doctor. Being with a 2 year old, I asked if I could leave and come back later. She said no, that's not the way it worked - I had to stay in the hospital. I again explained (very, very nicely) that I didn't want to disturb the other patients with a 2 year old screaming child and it would be really helpful if I could leave and come back. She left me for a few minutes and returned, saying she had discussed this with the powers that be and that I could in fact leave and come back, after first bringing my paperwork to the opthamology department. I was thrilled, not only to be able to leave, but also at having gotten them to bend the rules, which in Japan is almost impossible.
We went back home, hung out for awhile and returned at 11 am for an eye exam, a wait, a 10 minute visit with the eye doctor, a prescription, a bill for 1260 yen (about $12, which included two different kinds of eye drops). After it was all over, it was 12:40pm.
While the wait is long, I have waited in some doctor's offices in the states for that long and at least at the end of this wait..
I was done.
Finished.
No need to fight with insurance companies, no lab bills arriving in the mail, no trips to the pharmacy.
I think I like this.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Three Months Ago today....
........we walked into the Civil Affairs office in Nanchang and were presented with a very scared (and loud) little girl who couldn't smile. Walking unsteadily, with a frown seemingly frozen on her face, she eyed us with suspicion wondering "who are these people?". She didn't speak or smile for a week, didn't laugh for two, but instead, watched us and world intently as it unfolded before her, each new sight mesmerizing.
Today, she runs. And smiles. And laughs the best laugh in the world. And speaks. And dances. And kisses the dog. And kisses us. And climbs. And eats pizza. And ice cream. And wears her father's underwear.
She is happy. We are happy.
Life is good.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Ice Cream and Tears..
About the "getting jabbed" comment in my last post before I get lots of concerned phone calls and emails....... she is fine. There is nothing wrong. We simply had to follow up on some tests that were done in NY when we saw the doctor there. Specifically, a blood and poop test.
This does let me explain about Japanese health care and give you some idea of what it might be like if we had universal heath care in the US.
We were sent to one of the local hospitals by the pediatrician we saw here in Tokyo. It is a big hospital with many different departments for all sorts of things. We were given the name of the doctor to see, with the times he (turned out it was a she) sees patients. Thursday morning we set out.
9:15am - We arrive at the hospital where we are greeted by hundreds of people waiting in a large room, with a row of tellers on each side, kind of like a bank. The kind (aren't they all?) woman at the information booth brings us over to the ticket machine and gets our "number" for us, shows us how to fill out the form and tells us to wait until our number is called. We are #110. They are on #57.
9:40am - Our number is called. "Yeah", I think. "This shouldn't be too bad". I am wrong. Once we get to the first window, our paperwork is checked and we are given another number to wait again for the next bank of tellers.
10:40 am - After many trips around the waiting room and up and down the stairs, our number is called. Our paperwork is reviewed again, we are given the paperwork in a plastic folder, a plastic card looking very much like a credit card and a map for the second floor, with the Pediatric area pointed out. We make our way upstairs and looked around for someone to check us in. A nurse comes out and I give her the paperwork and card. She says to wait. We did. Wait.
11:00 am - A kind (aren't they all) looking woman calls our name and we follow her into a small office. Ariana starts howling, and in the midst of her screams, the woman asks why we were there, if she is allergic to anything (I don't know) and if she has any brothers and sisters (I assumes she means birth siblings and again, I don't know). This is always the hardest part of the exam. The questions about family history (I don't know), the diseases that may run in the family (I don't' know), the details (I DON"T KNOW!!!). And it bothers me, this not knowing. I tear up at the question because it is the big thing I will never be able to answer for her.
We make it past the questions and were asked to wait again.
11:25 AM - We are called into an exam room where they ask me to undress her. You would think by the screams that the blood is being drawn , but no, it is only the weighing and measuring. Finished with that particular torture, we go out to again wait. This time for the doctor.
11:45 am - The Doctor comes out and we follow her back to her office . We speak about what is needed, she reviews the paperwork I brought. She leaves, returning several minutes later explaining that they could do the blood test, but we had to go to a different department for the poop test on a different day, because they don't do pooptests on Thursdays. Not only that, but Ariana would need to actually poop in the hospital because the sample needed to be warm (say what???!???) We are asked to wait (AGAIN) for the blood test to be done.
12:30 pm - we are called into the room. Ariana knows this is the bad part, because she immediately starts screaming. They immediately tell me to leave, ushering me out the door. I stand in front of the door silently debating what is worse - being in the room being able to both see and hear your child screaming for her life or being outside just listening.
They both suck.
12:40 pm - my child is returned to me, very quiet (in shock probably) and yes, again I am told to wait. Ariana promptly falls asleep.
1:00 pm - The doctor comes out and says to go have lunch and come back in an hour or two - they will have the results.
The ice cream part comes next- after a nutritious omelet lunch of course.
2:30pm - we make our way up to the Pediatric area. I find someone and tell them I am here to see the doctor. They tell me to wait.
2:40 pm - a nurse comes out with a stool sample kit, which I am supposed to take home and do. Apparently there is no need to actually poop on the premises. The test looks like a tiny little toilet bowl brush - on which you are supposed to collect the sample - not too little and not too much - there is actually a diagram. The nurse explains how to do it and when to do it - in Japanese. I think I am actually understanding and then another nurse comes and says the doctor will come out. Just then, Ariana fills her diaper (yes, thank you God!!), so we can leave the sample right there.
2:50pm - the doctor appears, saying only half the blood test results are back and that I should come back next week for the results. I am to stick the little credit card thing into one of the machines downstairs, which has the appointment information on it. No need to wait on the various lines again.
We were finally finished. Or so I thought. I was given paperwork and told to go to the cashier. So, back downstairs to the hundreds of people waiting in a large room, with a row of tellers on each side, kind of like a bank. We gave the cashier the paperwork, who then told us to wait until our name was called.
We waited.
Another 15 minutes goes by, during which I debated whether or not to just leave, as we were going to be late for her class.
Name called, we approached the window, where they told us we didn't owe anything.
Nothing.
Not a cent.
Or a yen.
Free.
It was 3:15pm.
This does let me explain about Japanese health care and give you some idea of what it might be like if we had universal heath care in the US.
We were sent to one of the local hospitals by the pediatrician we saw here in Tokyo. It is a big hospital with many different departments for all sorts of things. We were given the name of the doctor to see, with the times he (turned out it was a she) sees patients. Thursday morning we set out.
9:15am - We arrive at the hospital where we are greeted by hundreds of people waiting in a large room, with a row of tellers on each side, kind of like a bank. The kind (aren't they all?) woman at the information booth brings us over to the ticket machine and gets our "number" for us, shows us how to fill out the form and tells us to wait until our number is called. We are #110. They are on #57.
9:40am - Our number is called. "Yeah", I think. "This shouldn't be too bad". I am wrong. Once we get to the first window, our paperwork is checked and we are given another number to wait again for the next bank of tellers.
10:40 am - After many trips around the waiting room and up and down the stairs, our number is called. Our paperwork is reviewed again, we are given the paperwork in a plastic folder, a plastic card looking very much like a credit card and a map for the second floor, with the Pediatric area pointed out. We make our way upstairs and looked around for someone to check us in. A nurse comes out and I give her the paperwork and card. She says to wait. We did. Wait.
11:00 am - A kind (aren't they all) looking woman calls our name and we follow her into a small office. Ariana starts howling, and in the midst of her screams, the woman asks why we were there, if she is allergic to anything (I don't know) and if she has any brothers and sisters (I assumes she means birth siblings and again, I don't know). This is always the hardest part of the exam. The questions about family history (I don't know), the diseases that may run in the family (I don't' know), the details (I DON"T KNOW!!!). And it bothers me, this not knowing. I tear up at the question because it is the big thing I will never be able to answer for her.
We make it past the questions and were asked to wait again.
11:25 AM - We are called into an exam room where they ask me to undress her. You would think by the screams that the blood is being drawn , but no, it is only the weighing and measuring. Finished with that particular torture, we go out to again wait. This time for the doctor.
11:45 am - The Doctor comes out and we follow her back to her office . We speak about what is needed, she reviews the paperwork I brought. She leaves, returning several minutes later explaining that they could do the blood test, but we had to go to a different department for the poop test on a different day, because they don't do pooptests on Thursdays. Not only that, but Ariana would need to actually poop in the hospital because the sample needed to be warm (say what???!???) We are asked to wait (AGAIN) for the blood test to be done.
12:30 pm - we are called into the room. Ariana knows this is the bad part, because she immediately starts screaming. They immediately tell me to leave, ushering me out the door. I stand in front of the door silently debating what is worse - being in the room being able to both see and hear your child screaming for her life or being outside just listening.
They both suck.
12:40 pm - my child is returned to me, very quiet (in shock probably) and yes, again I am told to wait. Ariana promptly falls asleep.
1:00 pm - The doctor comes out and says to go have lunch and come back in an hour or two - they will have the results.
The ice cream part comes next- after a nutritious omelet lunch of course.
2:30pm - we make our way up to the Pediatric area. I find someone and tell them I am here to see the doctor. They tell me to wait.
2:40 pm - a nurse comes out with a stool sample kit, which I am supposed to take home and do. Apparently there is no need to actually poop on the premises. The test looks like a tiny little toilet bowl brush - on which you are supposed to collect the sample - not too little and not too much - there is actually a diagram. The nurse explains how to do it and when to do it - in Japanese. I think I am actually understanding and then another nurse comes and says the doctor will come out. Just then, Ariana fills her diaper (yes, thank you God!!), so we can leave the sample right there.
2:50pm - the doctor appears, saying only half the blood test results are back and that I should come back next week for the results. I am to stick the little credit card thing into one of the machines downstairs, which has the appointment information on it. No need to wait on the various lines again.
We were finally finished. Or so I thought. I was given paperwork and told to go to the cashier. So, back downstairs to the hundreds of people waiting in a large room, with a row of tellers on each side, kind of like a bank. We gave the cashier the paperwork, who then told us to wait until our name was called.
We waited.
Another 15 minutes goes by, during which I debated whether or not to just leave, as we were going to be late for her class.
Name called, we approached the window, where they told us we didn't owe anything.
Nothing.
Not a cent.
Or a yen.
Free.
It was 3:15pm.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Napkin, I don't need no stinkin Napkin
Nothing erases the traumatic effects of a trip to the doctor where one gets jabbed with a needle (twice, as it seems they couldn't find a vein the first try) than an ice cream cone. You can imagine my excitement as I saw the shop - they had soft serve!!!!! - the closest thing to Carvel I was ever going to see here in Tokyo. We entered the shop, bypassing all of the gelato type ice creams and went straight for the vanilla/chocolate swirl - one for her, one for me. Now looking at the picture, the cone seems almost as big as she is and it was true - it was huge. But, just like her mama, she ate the whole thing in a messy "smear it all over me" way. Very unlike the Japanese child, there with her mother and grandmother who was being fed the soft serve cone by her grandmother spoonful by spoonful. They looked over at us and smiled. We smiled back, but our smiles were probably hidden by the ice-cream covering our mouths.
Yet another example of the difference in cultures evident every day I am here. Here, the ice cream shop was spotless, with not only napkins out for the customers, but little wet towelettes, packaged in plastic. There were doilies, white doilies!!!!! on every little table. We used up about 17 napkins and 4 wet naps; they used one of each. We ended up with ice cream all over us - they had none. Another woman came in while we were there and actually pulled out her own rather large cloth napkin, spread it on her lap and only then did she proceed to eat her ice cream, which was neatly piled in a cup. But no matter how we all ate, it was clear everyone enjoyed themselves.
Until, the Japanese grandmother asked if Ariana was a boy.....
Friday, February 16, 2007
The First Time
One always remembers. The nervousness, the anxiety. Will it be ok? Will she like it? Will I like it? Today was the first time..............................................
I left her.
I would like to say it was for something important like a meeting or a doctor's appointment. But no, I left her to shop. For furniture. You see, there was a big furniture sale at the Tokyo American Club. A bunch of vendors were gathered and we needed something to put the television on.
And no children were allowed. Hence the need to leave her. Baba-san offered to watch her in his office, but then my friend Clare offered to watch her as she was volunteering at the sale and wasn't needed until noon. So, I met Clare in the cafe, watched as Ariana went into the little play area they have there, and rushed off, cell phone in hand in case I was needed.
I wasn't.
I rushed around the sale searching for the appropriate piece, all the while sneaking glances at the phone just in case it rang.
It didn't.
Finding a piece I liked, I measured, opened doors, imagined it in the apartment, tried to call baba-san to discuss, all the while waiting for the call to say I was needed.
I wasn't.
Purchase finally made, I rushed back downstairs to find Ariana sitting in the highchair reading her book with Clare. She looked up at me with an expression that said "chill mother, I survived".
She was fine.
Apparently she looked around for me a couple of times, but was mostly very quiet and serious but happy playing, reading and drinking the fruit shake in front of her.
This is good.
I left her.
I would like to say it was for something important like a meeting or a doctor's appointment. But no, I left her to shop. For furniture. You see, there was a big furniture sale at the Tokyo American Club. A bunch of vendors were gathered and we needed something to put the television on.
And no children were allowed. Hence the need to leave her. Baba-san offered to watch her in his office, but then my friend Clare offered to watch her as she was volunteering at the sale and wasn't needed until noon. So, I met Clare in the cafe, watched as Ariana went into the little play area they have there, and rushed off, cell phone in hand in case I was needed.
I wasn't.
I rushed around the sale searching for the appropriate piece, all the while sneaking glances at the phone just in case it rang.
It didn't.
Finding a piece I liked, I measured, opened doors, imagined it in the apartment, tried to call baba-san to discuss, all the while waiting for the call to say I was needed.
I wasn't.
Purchase finally made, I rushed back downstairs to find Ariana sitting in the highchair reading her book with Clare. She looked up at me with an expression that said "chill mother, I survived".
She was fine.
Apparently she looked around for me a couple of times, but was mostly very quiet and serious but happy playing, reading and drinking the fruit shake in front of her.
This is good.
The Daddy Dance
After dinner each night, Baba-san takes Ariana in his arms and they dance. It is the only way she will go to sleep quietly, without screaming bloody murder. They dance to classic rock music by Rod Stewart and the Rolling Stones among others. Her particular favorite is " Crimson in Clover" - the original version, not the one by Joan Jett. Sometimes he sings, but mostly he just slowly moves around the living room holding her .
I would take a picture, but one can't capture the moment of intimacy between a father and daughter. You just have to imagine him with her in his arms - Ariana alternatively looking up at him trustingly and closing her eyes slowly.
They are in their own little world.
I dare not intrude.
Instead I watch from a distance.
Such a lovely sight.
I would take a picture, but one can't capture the moment of intimacy between a father and daughter. You just have to imagine him with her in his arms - Ariana alternatively looking up at him trustingly and closing her eyes slowly.
They are in their own little world.
I dare not intrude.
Instead I watch from a distance.
Such a lovely sight.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The Promised Land
I found it.
Yesterday.
In a place I had been to many times before.
Within walking distance.
A Takashimaya outlet store.
Brilliant.
For those not familiar, Takashimaya is a Japanese department store similar to Neiman Marcus. They have a great shoe department and visiting the store in Shinjuko is always fun. It does require a subway ride though. This one, "an outlet" - words that cause a girl from New York to get a really big smile on her face, is within walking distance and as it is conveniently located in the same building that the children's store I frequent and recently figured out how to pronounce after being here six months.
I will be making many trips.
Not like your average outlet store though, this one takes up an entire floor of a big building, has one side just for woman and another side for men, children, housewares and more stuff for women. In the middle, by the elevator, are booths with food - produce, gift sets, all the things you might see in the basement of the regular store.
Baba-san, baby and I went yesterday and while baba-san went to look at shoes, I headed over the baby area to see about a winter coat, as for the entire winter, baby-san has lived in a few short jackets she has. The coat was not found, but several pairs of pj's and a little dress were.
By then my phone had wrung several times as baba-san was having trouble finding his petite brunette wifey-san in the sea of petite brunette "other-people's wifey-sans". We paid, proud to have spent so little on so much, vowing to return for a more relaxed shop on a weekday.
Like tomorrow.
Yesterday.
In a place I had been to many times before.
Within walking distance.
A Takashimaya outlet store.
Brilliant.
For those not familiar, Takashimaya is a Japanese department store similar to Neiman Marcus. They have a great shoe department and visiting the store in Shinjuko is always fun. It does require a subway ride though. This one, "an outlet" - words that cause a girl from New York to get a really big smile on her face, is within walking distance and as it is conveniently located in the same building that the children's store I frequent and recently figured out how to pronounce after being here six months.
I will be making many trips.
Not like your average outlet store though, this one takes up an entire floor of a big building, has one side just for woman and another side for men, children, housewares and more stuff for women. In the middle, by the elevator, are booths with food - produce, gift sets, all the things you might see in the basement of the regular store.
Baba-san, baby and I went yesterday and while baba-san went to look at shoes, I headed over the baby area to see about a winter coat, as for the entire winter, baby-san has lived in a few short jackets she has. The coat was not found, but several pairs of pj's and a little dress were.
By then my phone had wrung several times as baba-san was having trouble finding his petite brunette wifey-san in the sea of petite brunette "other-people's wifey-sans". We paid, proud to have spent so little on so much, vowing to return for a more relaxed shop on a weekday.
Like tomorrow.
Dogs and Jewelry
I kid you not. Walking down the street the other day, I passed a young woman with a dog, dressed in a prissy little outfit wearing a necklace. It was not a collar, it was a necklace. It looked to be turquoise, but I couldn't be sure. My question is....
why?
why?
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