Last July, I came down with a cough that ended up lingering for over a month. I was back in Japan by myself for a few weeks, having just visited family in the US. With my wife and kids still in America, I was going out of my mind. I was having trouble breathing, making me anxious and depriving me of a lot of sleep. I went to various hospitals and saw many doctors, who each seemed to have a different opinion about my state. In short, I had no idea what was wrong with me.
At one of the hospitals, a doctor suggested that I might have asthma. My symptoms were consistent with those of asthma, but I had never heard of adult onset asthma before, so I was a bit baffled. I saw another doctor, who repeated the first doctor's opinion that I had asthma. For the last few months, I've been taking a few different asthma medications. The inhaler itself never really seemed to have much of an effect, but the allergy pill and anti-anxiety med curbed some of the side effects and allowed me to sleep, so I continued going to the doctor, consigned to my future as an asthmatic.
Even though the breathing and anxiety problems were somewhat controlled, I've been sick a lot over the past few months--a lot more so than usual. I've always chalked it up to working around hundreds of kids, who all carry their own special germs to spread.
About three of four weeks ago, I came down with a cough almost exactly like the one I had last July. It has lingered since, leading to a lot more sick days than I'd like. Ready to finally put this beast to rest, I went to a doctor again a couple days ago to see if there was anything we could do about my condition. I'm pretty confident that it was a good choice.
Doctor Fujiwara at Imabari DaiIchi hospital recommended that I get a CT scan from my brow down to my chest to see what was going on. They had me lie on my back on a moving table (like any other CT scan) with my arms high above my head while they scanned my insides. It took a considerable amount of willpower to keep completely still. It's strange how you feel every itch when you're not allowed to scratch them. To keep myself distracted, I imagined shooting through a vacuum tube in one of those space-age personal transport pods you see in science fiction shows.
When the results came in, it showed that one side of my head was plugged up. The sinuses on one side of my face are completely blocked, which supposedly causes all of the problems I've been experiencing over the last 8 months or so. My bronchial tubes are inflamed as a result, and the doctor also mentioned something about empyema. So, I've got bronchitis as a result of chronic sinusitis and empyema. Sinusitis is actually pretty common, but it can get so bad that it greatly affects the rest of the body. The treatment plan will last at least a month, and likely up to 90 days.
While that was all somewhat surprising, the bombshell came at the end of my checkup. Dr. Fujiwara says I don't have asthma. All of the asthma-like symptoms that I'm experiencing can all supposedly be explained by my sinus problems. As much as I'd like to take this diagnosis and run with it, the differing opinions about my condition leave a non-trivial amount of doubt. One thing that makes me want to believe the current diagnosis is that I actually got a CT scan with this doctor, whereas the others took inconclusive chest x-rays and theorized that I probably have asthma. I saw the CT photos with my own eyes, so I know for sure that I do have sinus problems. CT scans don't seem to be used for asthma detection, though, so I don't know how he could know that I don't have asthma.
At this point, I'm going to just go through with the sinus treatment and believe that I don't have asthma. I'm hoping that doing so will take care of all the asthma-like symptoms and get me to my previous healthy state.
Showing posts with label Sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sick. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Craaaaazy Weight Loss
So, three months ago I weighed 232 pounds. Now I weigh 214.
18 pounds in three months.
I went to see the doctor about a persistent cough (4+ weeks), and chest x-rays showed no problems. Afterward, the doctor alternated between the words “sutoresu” and “arerugi” (stress and allergy), repeating them in a slow, booming voice seemingly meant for someone with severe brain damage and/or hearing loss.
She didn’t offer any other words until I showed clear discomfort with the way she was speaking to me. I had already established in many previous visits (as well as the current one) that I speak and understand Japanese. I think I’m done with that hospital.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Visiting the Doctor in Japan
Tuesday morning, I got up, got ready, and biked over to the ferry bound for Okamura, where my island schools are. I was feeling fine until I got to the island. I wasn't sure if it was due to the boat ride, but I suddenly felt queasy. I taught two junior high school classes and started eating lunch, when the teachers in the staff room noticed that I wasn't looking too hot. I didn't have much of an appetite, though it didn't help that lunch was a bunch of small fried fish, with pickled vegetables and fish-filled rice on the side.
They let me leave on the 1PM ferry without teaching my afternoon classes at the elementary school. When I got home, I rested in hopes that I just had motion sickness from the boat. It didn't go away.
Later that night, Stef started to feel sick to her stomach. I had a headache and was feeling nauseous, but Stef actually got it worse. I don't know why, but for some reason, I never throw up. Stef is a different story. She usually disappears into the bathroom and comes out feeling a lot better. I rarely have to deal with the unpleasantness of throwing up, but then I have to endure an upset stomach for a longer period.
When I woke up the next day, I felt even worse. The headache was just as strong and my stomach felt worse, so I called in sick. In Japan, you have to see a doctor when you miss any work, or else you lose vacation time. In fairness, most employers in America will make you use your vacation time or go without pay for the days that you miss. However, paid sick leave is written into my contract here, and I was genuinely sick. Since I chose not to use my vacation time, I had to see a doctor. It seemed like a good idea, since we had been traveling in Osaka, where there have been a few cases of the swine flu. Might as well make sure that my I'm not dying.
I biked over to a hospital about two minutes from our apartment, and told them that I needed to see a doctor. They gave me the standard new patient forms, and I sat down to fill them out. They were in kanji, the complex characters borrowed from Chinese that you must have specifically studied in order to understand. There was a little hiragana (Japanese phonetic alphabet) here and there, but overall, the form was daunting. As I studied the sheet, I realized that I recognized over half of the characters. Even if I didn't know how to pronounce all of them, I understood the primitive meaning of most. I filled the sheet out and turned it in, asking for help with the readings of just two of the characters.
It was a small victory for me. It's quite intimidating to face a wall of kanji standing in the way of you and something you need. In the beginning of my stay here in Japan, I might have asked for someone to translate. I don't even know if anybody could have translated. It's nice to know that it didn't even matter.
I sat and stared at the fish tank, waiting for my name to be called. A closer look at the tank revealed that it wasn't a fish tank at all, but a TV screen in a glass casing filled with water. I'd imagine that video fish are a lot easier to care for than real fish. They called everybody in the standard Japanese way, last name first. I was curious to see how they'd call me.
“Jesse-sama! Kochira, douzo (Mister Jesse, right this way)!”
Just my first name. I wonder if they thought it was my last name.
I followed the lady through some doors and she guided me into the room where the doctor was waiting. When Kelsey had pink eye and we took her to a doctor, the nurses manhandled her. They pushed her down and held her against her will. It was quite upsetting. She would have cooperated had they let us hold her. When I went to see the doctor, the nurses did the same thing to me. I walked in and explained what I was feeling to the doctor. Our whole conversation was in Japanese.
“Please lift up your shirt,” said the doctor.
“Please lift up your shirt,” repeated the nurse in a high-pitched, nasal tone.
I went to lift up my shirt, and the nurse lifted it for me and held it up.
“Please take a deep breath,” the doctor requested, stethoscope ready.
“Please take a deep breath,” parroted the nurse.
“Now, exhale,” said the doctor.
“Now, exhale,” the nurse mimicked.
“Take another deep breath.”
“Take another deep breath.”
“And… exhale.”
“Exhale.”
“Okay, now pull your shirt back down.”
“Pull your shirt back down.”
I went to pull my shirt down, but the nurse did it for me.
I told the doctor that I had been having headaches almost every morning for the last month or two, and he told me to lie down on the table. The nurse, of course, also asked me to lie down on the table. When I did, I slipped and bumped the wall, since I was much too big. I made a joke about how I'm too big and the nurse cut me off and again asked me to lie down. The doctor felt my abdomen and then asked me a question that I don't remember. I told him that I wanted to make sure that I didn't have the swine flu. He said “OK,” and asked me to follow the nurse, who asked me to follow her.
I was in the doctor's room for, at most, ninety seconds. At the nurses' station, they stabbed me in the brain through my nostrils with a long cotton swab, which they then tested for influenza while I waited in a separate waiting area. Thirty minutes later, the nurse called me back in to see the doctor, who spent thirty seconds explaining that I didn't have influenza, but that I most likely had a stomach virus. I again waited in the lobby for them to call my name. About five minutes later, they called me up to the front desk and handed me three different types of medicine, asked for my money, and showed me the door.
The nicest thing I can say about my visit to the doctor is that it was quick. They basically have an assembly line system that doesn't leave you feeling like you have any sort of relationship with your doctor. He's just there to find out what kind of medicine they're going to sell you. I didn't really get to discuss my concerns or describe my nausea. You're in, you're out, and you're lucky if you ever find out what's ailing you.
The nurse is there to make sure that you don't spend even a millisecond too long in the hospital. If they're really so concerned with making everything fast, they should stop repeating everything the doctor says. And I can lift my own shirt, thank you very much. If she could have inhaled and exhaled for me, she would have. At the same time, it makes the manhandling of Kelsey seem much less personal. They don't care if you're a toddler or a grown man. They're going to do everything for you.
I still don't know what was wrong with me. I was sick the following two days as well, and part of Saturday. I'm better now, and it's nice to know that I didn't have the swine flu. Well, it's time to get ready for school lunch. I hear we're having video fish.
They let me leave on the 1PM ferry without teaching my afternoon classes at the elementary school. When I got home, I rested in hopes that I just had motion sickness from the boat. It didn't go away.
Later that night, Stef started to feel sick to her stomach. I had a headache and was feeling nauseous, but Stef actually got it worse. I don't know why, but for some reason, I never throw up. Stef is a different story. She usually disappears into the bathroom and comes out feeling a lot better. I rarely have to deal with the unpleasantness of throwing up, but then I have to endure an upset stomach for a longer period.
When I woke up the next day, I felt even worse. The headache was just as strong and my stomach felt worse, so I called in sick. In Japan, you have to see a doctor when you miss any work, or else you lose vacation time. In fairness, most employers in America will make you use your vacation time or go without pay for the days that you miss. However, paid sick leave is written into my contract here, and I was genuinely sick. Since I chose not to use my vacation time, I had to see a doctor. It seemed like a good idea, since we had been traveling in Osaka, where there have been a few cases of the swine flu. Might as well make sure that my I'm not dying.
I biked over to a hospital about two minutes from our apartment, and told them that I needed to see a doctor. They gave me the standard new patient forms, and I sat down to fill them out. They were in kanji, the complex characters borrowed from Chinese that you must have specifically studied in order to understand. There was a little hiragana (Japanese phonetic alphabet) here and there, but overall, the form was daunting. As I studied the sheet, I realized that I recognized over half of the characters. Even if I didn't know how to pronounce all of them, I understood the primitive meaning of most. I filled the sheet out and turned it in, asking for help with the readings of just two of the characters.
It was a small victory for me. It's quite intimidating to face a wall of kanji standing in the way of you and something you need. In the beginning of my stay here in Japan, I might have asked for someone to translate. I don't even know if anybody could have translated. It's nice to know that it didn't even matter.
I sat and stared at the fish tank, waiting for my name to be called. A closer look at the tank revealed that it wasn't a fish tank at all, but a TV screen in a glass casing filled with water. I'd imagine that video fish are a lot easier to care for than real fish. They called everybody in the standard Japanese way, last name first. I was curious to see how they'd call me.
“Jesse-sama! Kochira, douzo (Mister Jesse, right this way)!”
Just my first name. I wonder if they thought it was my last name.
I followed the lady through some doors and she guided me into the room where the doctor was waiting. When Kelsey had pink eye and we took her to a doctor, the nurses manhandled her. They pushed her down and held her against her will. It was quite upsetting. She would have cooperated had they let us hold her. When I went to see the doctor, the nurses did the same thing to me. I walked in and explained what I was feeling to the doctor. Our whole conversation was in Japanese.
“Please lift up your shirt,” said the doctor.
“Please lift up your shirt,” repeated the nurse in a high-pitched, nasal tone.
I went to lift up my shirt, and the nurse lifted it for me and held it up.
“Please take a deep breath,” the doctor requested, stethoscope ready.
“Please take a deep breath,” parroted the nurse.
“Now, exhale,” said the doctor.
“Now, exhale,” the nurse mimicked.
“Take another deep breath.”
“Take another deep breath.”
“And… exhale.”
“Exhale.”
“Okay, now pull your shirt back down.”
“Pull your shirt back down.”
I went to pull my shirt down, but the nurse did it for me.
I told the doctor that I had been having headaches almost every morning for the last month or two, and he told me to lie down on the table. The nurse, of course, also asked me to lie down on the table. When I did, I slipped and bumped the wall, since I was much too big. I made a joke about how I'm too big and the nurse cut me off and again asked me to lie down. The doctor felt my abdomen and then asked me a question that I don't remember. I told him that I wanted to make sure that I didn't have the swine flu. He said “OK,” and asked me to follow the nurse, who asked me to follow her.
I was in the doctor's room for, at most, ninety seconds. At the nurses' station, they stabbed me in the brain through my nostrils with a long cotton swab, which they then tested for influenza while I waited in a separate waiting area. Thirty minutes later, the nurse called me back in to see the doctor, who spent thirty seconds explaining that I didn't have influenza, but that I most likely had a stomach virus. I again waited in the lobby for them to call my name. About five minutes later, they called me up to the front desk and handed me three different types of medicine, asked for my money, and showed me the door.
The nicest thing I can say about my visit to the doctor is that it was quick. They basically have an assembly line system that doesn't leave you feeling like you have any sort of relationship with your doctor. He's just there to find out what kind of medicine they're going to sell you. I didn't really get to discuss my concerns or describe my nausea. You're in, you're out, and you're lucky if you ever find out what's ailing you.
The nurse is there to make sure that you don't spend even a millisecond too long in the hospital. If they're really so concerned with making everything fast, they should stop repeating everything the doctor says. And I can lift my own shirt, thank you very much. If she could have inhaled and exhaled for me, she would have. At the same time, it makes the manhandling of Kelsey seem much less personal. They don't care if you're a toddler or a grown man. They're going to do everything for you.
I still don't know what was wrong with me. I was sick the following two days as well, and part of Saturday. I'm better now, and it's nice to know that I didn't have the swine flu. Well, it's time to get ready for school lunch. I hear we're having video fish.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Up all night
Kelsey had it rough last night. We put her in bed at about 9:30 or 10, and everything seemed all right. As Stef and I sat in bed we heard Kelsey whimper. She had coughed loudly a minute earlier, but we didn't think anything of it. Stef went in to check on Kelsey and walked up to her crib, the smell of vomit hitting her like a sack of horseshoes. Kelsey had thrown up all over herself and the bedding.
As Stef got Kelsey out of her pajamas, I prepared the bath. Tired, Kelsey shook and groaned while Stef put her in the tub and washed her up. She drank a little bit and started to look better, though still a little pale. Kelsey snuggled her head into my shoulder as I held and rocked her. Her temperature felt fine and she was alert, so Stef fed her a little and put her back down in her freshly made crib.
A bit later we awoke to the sound of Kelsey whimpering again. I reached down to pull her out of the crib and felt her soaked pajamas. Again we bathed her and changed her clothes. We didn't have any more clean bedding, so we put down some towels. Stef probed her mom for advice on the phone. This time, she was a little warm, but the thermometer said that her body temperature was close to normal. Hoping that she'd been through the worst of it, it was back to bed for Kelsey. I had a feeling that I should give Kelsey a blessing, but I pushed it aside and we included her in our nightly prayers.
Stef asked me to check on Kelsey during my nightly bathroom visit. When I woke up at 3 or so, Kelsey was once again making noise. Stef grabbed her while I was in the bathroom, and I went to check and see if she had thrown up again. The top towel had a small circle of vomit. We weren't sure what we would do. I helped with Kelsey while Stef again consulted with her sleeping mom. Diana told me that we should take her to the hospital if she got a fever or wouldn't keep any fluids down. By this time, Kelsey was seemingly cheery and wide-awake. I had a big day of studying ahead of me, so I had to get to sleep. I knelt down and said a prayer for Kelsey, hoping that she'd be okay. Stef took care of Kelsey while I tried to sleep, but soon Stef was in the bedroom waking me up. Kelsey had thrown up a couple more times, only this time Stef was holding her.
Stumbling out to the living room like a zombie, I struggled to remain patient. I didn't know if we should take her to the emergency room. I certainly didn't want to--not with a full day of study ahead of me. As I thought about giving Kelsey a priesthood blessing, Stef suggested that we do so. I placed my hands on her head and gave her a short blessing of health. Even though I doubted that she knew what was going on, I had faith that she'd get better. I plopped back into bed and fell asleep.
At 9 in the morning I woke up to the sound of Kelsey. I scooped the out of the crib and looked for signs of sickness. Everything seemed fine. However, I wasn't sure if I had slept through a rough rest of the night for mom and baby. Stef soon got up and I asked her if she slept at all. After the blessing, Kelsey didn't throw up at all. She was able to fall asleep, and Stef was able to get a good chunk of rest as well.
I feel a little guilty for not following the promptings I got earlier. I wonder if she suffered because of my reluctance. However, I still feel very grateful that she is okay and that both Stef and I were able to sleep.
As Stef got Kelsey out of her pajamas, I prepared the bath. Tired, Kelsey shook and groaned while Stef put her in the tub and washed her up. She drank a little bit and started to look better, though still a little pale. Kelsey snuggled her head into my shoulder as I held and rocked her. Her temperature felt fine and she was alert, so Stef fed her a little and put her back down in her freshly made crib.
A bit later we awoke to the sound of Kelsey whimpering again. I reached down to pull her out of the crib and felt her soaked pajamas. Again we bathed her and changed her clothes. We didn't have any more clean bedding, so we put down some towels. Stef probed her mom for advice on the phone. This time, she was a little warm, but the thermometer said that her body temperature was close to normal. Hoping that she'd been through the worst of it, it was back to bed for Kelsey. I had a feeling that I should give Kelsey a blessing, but I pushed it aside and we included her in our nightly prayers.
Stef asked me to check on Kelsey during my nightly bathroom visit. When I woke up at 3 or so, Kelsey was once again making noise. Stef grabbed her while I was in the bathroom, and I went to check and see if she had thrown up again. The top towel had a small circle of vomit. We weren't sure what we would do. I helped with Kelsey while Stef again consulted with her sleeping mom. Diana told me that we should take her to the hospital if she got a fever or wouldn't keep any fluids down. By this time, Kelsey was seemingly cheery and wide-awake. I had a big day of studying ahead of me, so I had to get to sleep. I knelt down and said a prayer for Kelsey, hoping that she'd be okay. Stef took care of Kelsey while I tried to sleep, but soon Stef was in the bedroom waking me up. Kelsey had thrown up a couple more times, only this time Stef was holding her.
Stumbling out to the living room like a zombie, I struggled to remain patient. I didn't know if we should take her to the emergency room. I certainly didn't want to--not with a full day of study ahead of me. As I thought about giving Kelsey a priesthood blessing, Stef suggested that we do so. I placed my hands on her head and gave her a short blessing of health. Even though I doubted that she knew what was going on, I had faith that she'd get better. I plopped back into bed and fell asleep.
At 9 in the morning I woke up to the sound of Kelsey. I scooped the out of the crib and looked for signs of sickness. Everything seemed fine. However, I wasn't sure if I had slept through a rough rest of the night for mom and baby. Stef soon got up and I asked her if she slept at all. After the blessing, Kelsey didn't throw up at all. She was able to fall asleep, and Stef was able to get a good chunk of rest as well.
I feel a little guilty for not following the promptings I got earlier. I wonder if she suffered because of my reluctance. However, I still feel very grateful that she is okay and that both Stef and I were able to sleep.
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