Not funny

Two nights ago, I got trapped in the bathroom (the room with the tub, not the room with the toilet). Don't laugh! This is not funny! The living room door got wedged somehow against the bathroom door, rendering the bathroom door completely unopenable from the inside.


For the first half hour, I tried everything I could think of to open the damn door, but there was nothing in the bathroom I could use as a tool, and the door turned out to be surprisingly solid. I kicked it repeatedly with everything I had, and it didn't budge.


Then I thought about escape through the windows, but they have bars on then. Also good, solid construction.


So I did what any reasonable person would do: I screamed my bloody head off. Something along the lines of, "Help! Help! This is not a joke! I am trapped! I need help! Help me, please!" (Of course I screamed in Japanese.) And despite seeing some neighbors' figures moving in their respective windows, no one came over to inquire why I was screaming. I now officially hate them all.


After roughly two hours of this, some poor kid on a bicycle happened past. Well, my voice was just about gone by then, but I managed to kick up the screaming another notch, adding such phrases as, "Hey, you, on the bicycle!" and "over here!". God bless him, he stopped and came to the window. I explained the situation. Fortunately I accidentally left the kitchen door unlocked, so he came in and freed me from my humid prison. Clad only in a towel, I collapsed on the floor, breathing raggedly. The kid was pretty freaked out and practically ran out the door after he was sure he didn't need to call anyone (again, bless him!). I figure he must have had quite the story for his high school friends the next day.

Two more?

Usually this blog is all about the pictures of vacation destinations, but I thought I say a few lighthearted words about an... issue... I've been having. Then I'll post some pics from Atlanta. Then (after I finish decorating!) I'll take some pics of my house to show you guys. And so on.

So here's the latest episode from the soap opera that is my life:

As if the lack of internet until last night, moving, and starting a new job weren't enough reason to be incommunicado, I've been stressed out about my health, too. I started getting a sharp pain in my lower belly about a week after I got back. Like the kind of pain where you think maybe it's time to actually see a doctor. My boss was fantastic and pulled some strings at city hall to get me my health insurance before my foreigner registration had actually come through. So then it was off to the gynecologist I go!

Getting a gyn exam in Japan is a wholly different procedure from the "fun" one in the US. In short, I stripped, got on a magical seatless chair that put swiveling dentist's chairs to shame, and the nurse pulled the curtain over my waist so I can't see anything. This is supposed to prevent embarassment. Then I sat feeling generally weird and uncomfotable for a minute and then *oh, my! that's a hand.* He never even said anything. It could have been Cousin It for all I knew. What seemed like ten years later, he finished fishing around in there, and I went to the other room to hear the exam and ultrasound results.

Enter the good doctor, waving a grainy b&w pic.

"Here. Ooo-ter-us."

"Uh huh," I intelligently reply while inspecting a whitish blob.

"Here. Oh-bah-ree."

Then he paused, like he was searching for a word. Now, I actually hate it when Japanese people are so desperate to show off their English that we have these horrible broken conversations. Even if my Japanese is far from perfect, I understand a normal stream of Japanese better than random, questionably-used English words. Usually I find that a little prompting on my part in Japanese will get them to switch over. No such luck.

"えっと、その大きい陰は？" I tried. (and that large shadow is?)

"Maybe two more."

Huh? Say what? Two more what? Was he saying I had 3 ovaries? What the heck? Seeing I had no earthly idea what he was saying, he continued.

"Oo-ter-us," he said, pointing to what I supposed was my uterus.

"Tyoo-bu," he said, pointing at the skinny thing I can only assume was my fallopian tube.

"Two more," he repeated.

Suddenly it clicked, and I whipped out my dictionary.

"腫瘍？！Tumor?!" I had to be sure I got this one right.

"Yes, tumor," he replied happily. (There's a certain facial expression that can only be achieved by successfully communicating in a foreign language.)

At that my brain effectively shut off for the day.

Well, the rest of the story is pretty boring. It involves several follow up visits, more ultrasounds, and finally a referral to Kurume University hospital for better testing. There, the doctor decided it was simply an infection, gave me antibiotics, and everything cleared up. Ta da!

So, basically, this is my excuse for not getting done all the things I needed to in the last two weeks. Not a bad excuse, if I do say so myself. On the upshot, I learned that saying you have to go to the doctor to get a possible tumor checked out will get you out of any committment.

Patience

I will get on it, Amy, just as soon as I have regular internet access. Say 2 weeks.