Day 6 (& 3, 4, 5)

So I haven't exactly kept up with actually writing everyday, but I will give you the gist of what happened each day. I'll start with day 3, the big day.

Day 3 – D-Day

I was woken up slightly before 6am. Craving coffee, all I received was an enema. In the end I guess they accomplish the same, but it is just so much easier to enjoy a nice cup of joe. After that I received a nice bagged breakfast, that was inserted into my arm. In fact, every meal that day was fed the same way...one after the next after the next.

I was rudely informed that my goatee would have to go. No amount of logical argument seemed to get through, so in the end I just had to go with it. Since nobody saw it fitting to inform me of this prior to D-Day, I hadn't brought my beard trimmer...and my goatee was gettin' shaggy. I asked it they had something I could trim with, and they said no, spawning a new round of arguments. Anyone who has ever had to shave a moderate length, bushed out beard will know the pain involved. I asked if they had scissors, and my request was granted with a pair of paper cutting snips. I was thoroughly unimpressed. I asked if they had a thinner pair of scissors with a point. After initially saying no (and my ensuing response that there was no way I was getting surgery if they were using a pair of paper scissors on me), I finally received a pair of surgical sheers. I trimmed my beard short, and tried not to shed a tear as I took the final swipes of the razor.

Next battle. Noon. The surgeon came to me earlier in the day and told me that I would be going in around two or three in the afternoon. It was shortly after noon that a nurse (unfortunately for her, I remembered she was the one who dropped the beard news) came to my room and asked me to get into what I call “rikishi” pants. Rikishi are the contestants in sumo, and “pantsu” is underwear in Japanese. These gonch are a cross between a fig leaf, a thong, pacific islander garb, and sumo...things. I informed the nurse that the doctor said between two and three, and I would put them on closer to the time. That wasn't good enough for her, I told her I would as soon as I was done working on the computer. When she came back in half an hour and they were still on the bed, she freaked. I resisted, but she was getting close to thermonuclear, so after she left (and against my wishes) I put them on. When she came back in another twenty minutes and said that the doctor called and that they were very busy and behind schedule and I might not be in until four or five, I gave her a look that would freeze the sun (on a side note, she is kinda cute, but talks to all the patients in this patronizing tone that makes me want to wring her neck.)

Quarter to five rolled around, and they tossed me on a stretcher. It was into the elevator, and down to op-level. Through the corridors (of which I have committed the ceilings to memory) and into the OR. The anaesthesiologist was first up, and he proceeded to iodine my spine, and then insert a tube into it. The nurses were laughing as he was doing his best with minimal English and I was only speaking Japanese. Then it was time for the arm restraints, and then the gas. I made everyone laugh with my final comment of “itterashai” which you say when someone leaves the room or house.

I woke up like a bat outta hell, and they quickly pulled the tubes out of my throat. I was instantly aware and fully understood where I was and what had happened. The first thing I did was feel my leg. Cast. One month.

Before rushing out the door, I had a chance to read the timers in the room. Almost three hours under, and almost two for the surgery. Then it was down the hallway, of which I still remembered the ceiling, and up to the sixth floor recovery room. The head doc met me there and explained the deal. My ACL had fused to the PCL, a good thing, but it was about 2/3 torn and they felt that it would provide insufficient stability. So it was full reconstruction. Then the surgeon came in and told me they were surprised at how stiff Canadian knees are in comparison to Japanese knees. I told him because they all sit on their knees, and then told him how bad that is for your knees (berating the knee doctor, ha.) He laughed, and said that they all had discussed that and they completely agreed.

Then I passed out in a restless sleep. I sweated the night away, completely unaware of how much time had passed in the dark recovery room. Various things happened, and various medicines were administered (in various ways...I still couldn't eat). But the worst of it was all coming to an end, and I was slowly getting strength back.

Day 4 and 5

Were pretty much the same. I had some visitors, and I was up and at it. I was (and still am) running a fever, but I wasn't letting that slow me down. I was whippin 360s in my wheel chair, and having a good time. The bathroom was a little difficult, but hey I had a cast before, and these toilets automatically raise the lid and have a button for the seat (as well as many features for the butt cleaning sprayers). Day four my night class student and friend Yuriko (my saviour, she brought me here, and has come everyday except surgery day)came with a big carafe of coffee. Then as I was trying to figure out what to do with my evening, my friend and co-worker Takayama-sensei came to visit. He is one of the nicest people at Kosha, and I am pleased to call him my friend.

Day five hit a few snags as the internet in my new bed didn't work. I was in the same room, but lost the window to Hori-san. Hori-san is a great guy with a couple of really cute kids. He has a pretty awful hernia and crawls to the toilet. He has a portable DVD player that gets TV, but only on the window side. I couldn't hold it against him that he jacked my spot. But never the less my internet was down...I had already purchased time, and part of the reason for paying for a pair room is the internet. Well five hours and three technicians later, the high tech solution was to use Hori's internet port (which was not a very good soultion for a variety of reasons) or to move to an other room (which I had already turned down because it is much narrower, and I am paying the highest rate). In the end, and I say this leaving a lot of tense discussion with the nursing staff, I moved rooms. Nobody was happy in the end.

Day 6

I woke up, and finally got a chance to call Mum (I spell it Mom, but at her instance Ill go with the u). It's here birthday here today, and by the time I post this, probably there too. She was rushing out to the ballet with a friend, so we were brief. I got a little bit of the support I needed, and she got a little bit of the piece of mind that she needed. I was going to call back later to talk to my sis, but things happened pretty fast.

I was called into the working room, and low and behold my cast was cut in half. Physio starts tomorrow, and I get to wear my one hundred fifty thousand yen knee brace. Then the doc came in and pulled the tube that was inserted in my spine on D-Day. I had been carrying around a little bag that had a condom like thing slowly dispensing pain killer to my leg, and a button for a big hit of pain killer. It was pardon the pun a real pain. I accidentally spilt coffee on it, and pissed on in, as well as various other mishaps...like saying how amazing it was that I had no pain in my knee, until I realized I was sitting on the button. It was gone. Yeehaw.

Then my word shook. Or rather the central portion of Japan shook. There was a magnitude 7.1 earthquake of the west cost of Japan. It clocked in at about a 5 here in Nagano, and caused the sixth floor to go swinging back and forth pretty far for the better part of what felt like two minutes. I was so happy...my first big earthquake in Japan. I was on the internet and I was instantly googling to see where and how big it was. I got the news about twenty seconds before the TV. There have been a few aftershocks, one major enough to shake us for another thirty seconds. Talk about excitement. You can't pay for fun like that! Or maybe only people who studied a lot of geography get that excited by the release of subductional friction.

This line just broke onto the third page of my word processor, and I know that I am reaching the limit of some readers attention. Also I want to go pee and get a coffee. From here on, it's up on my feet for part of the day, and wheeling around the rest. Soon enough it's all me (and the crutches). Here I go!