{"id":293,"date":"2008-09-24T20:38:40","date_gmt":"2008-09-24T20:38:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/?page_id=293"},"modified":"2008-09-28T03:40:05","modified_gmt":"2008-09-28T03:40:05","slug":"trauma-doctors-earthquakes-and-chikan-oh-my","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/library\/anecdote-articles\/trauma-doctors-earthquakes-and-chikan-oh-my\/","title":{"rendered":"Trauma: Doctors, Earthquakes and Chikan (Oh My!)"},"content":{"rendered":"
DOCTORS, EARTHQUAKES AND CHIKAN (Oh My!) <\/span>
Tales of Trauma from Days of JET <\/span><\/div>\n

(Fall 2007<\/span>)<\/p>\n

Despite many wonderful and inspriring moments while on JET, there were of course moments that were downright traumatic.\u00a0 Let\u2019s <\/span>relive some of them, shall we? <\/span><\/p>\n

While playing baseball with my junior high school club baseball team in my host city, I twisted my knee and tore some medial
\nmeniscus cartilidge.\u00a0 The knee ballooned to the size of a honeydew melon as I got on my bike and pedaled as fast as I could, with
\none leg of course, to the local hospital.<\/p>\n

At the hospital, they took me to the MRI room and proceeded to force my knee straight (something it did NOT want to do) and then
\nasked me to keep as still as possible for forty minutes while they took the test. I am a grown man, but the pain was so unbearable that
\nthe tears and sweat got intermixed as the area around my head began to resemble a small lake. The MRI technicians didn’t talk to me
\nduring the entire episode (very unusual if you’ve had an MRI before) and didn’t seem to think it important to tell me that they needed to
\nrun the test again. Yes, I was in that damned machine for an hour and 20 minutes while screaming bloody murder internally.\u00a0 When
\nthey finally took me out, I let out a fairly good-sized “Arrrrrgggghhhhh!”<\/p>\n

In the end, I ended up talking my way into getting to go to the big city, Asahikawa, to have my surgery as there was a “knee specialist”
\nwho studied in Chicago.\u00a0 Even though I was able to communicate with the doctor in my local town, I did not like how behind the curve
\nthe local hospital was.\u00a0 It is truly amazing how advanced Japan is technologically, yet they can still be very behind in many areas of
\nmedicine…. at least in the small towns. The big cities are a totally different ballgame.<\/p>\n

By the way, I ended up playing baseball for the local city hall team the following year and got my revenge against the local hosptial
\nteam (yes, those two MRI technicians played ball) by getting a couple base hits and scoring the winning run. Take that you crazy,
\npain-inflicting SOBs!!
\n-Toby Weymiller, Hokkaido-ken, 1997-00 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

Once at an enkai, I threw up on my kocho-sensei<\/span>.\u00a0 Embarrassing.
\n-Anonymous <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

I was actually not home for the most traumatic event to happen to my town while I was on JET.\u00a0 I was on the Shinkansen on my way up to
\nTokyo to meet my boyfriend Jeff at Narita.\u00a0 As I typically did when on the Shinkansen, I was reading the electronic news ticker at the
\nfront of the car to practice my kanji<\/span> when up popped something about “O-jishin Tottori-ken, Hino-Gun<\/span>,” which I was pretty sure meant
\n“Big earthquake Tottori-ken<\/span>, Hino-gun<\/span>.”<\/p>\n

Well, I just happened to live in Hino-gun<\/span> in Tottori-ken<\/span>, and I didn’t like the idea of an o-jishin<\/span> in my hometown.\u00a0 I turned to the
\nbusinessman next to me and asked if I had indeed read the ticker correctly and that there was, in fact, a big earthquake in my
\nhometown.\u00a0 His reply was “Yep, there was a huge earthquake out there, sounded really bad.\u00a0 But, it is very inaka<\/span> and not near anything,
\nso you don’t need to worry.”\u00a0 Right. Not near anything, that pretty much describes where I lived.\u00a0 Yikes.<\/p>\n

As soon as I got off the train I found myself a TV and tuned to the national news, which was full of pictures of my beautiful town in ruin
\n\u2014 the road to my house was a pile of rocks; houses down the street were falling apart.\u00a0 Fortunately, the news said no one was
\nseriously injured or killed, but many were homeless and much of the damage was still not reported.\u00a0 What to do? My boyfriend was
\narriving in Narita in a few hours, and the news said no transportation was running to my hometown anyway.\u00a0\u00a0 I tried calling my
\nco-workers but the phones were out.\u00a0 So, I went to Narita as scheduled and spent the weekend in Tokyo.<\/p>\n

Coming home that Sunday afternoon was one of the most memorable experiences of my two years in Japan.\u00a0 Trains and planes were
\nstill not running so we had to take a train to a bus to my car, which was parked in a city forty-five minutes from my town (a.k.a. the heart
\nof the earthquake zone).\u00a0 We were still experiencing frequent aftershocks when I picked up the car.\u00a0 I tried heading down the normal
\nroad to my town only to find it was closed by multiple landslides.\u00a0 So, I turned back and found a skeptical policeman, who told me which
\nroads remained open, all the while reminding me that it was very very abunai<\/span> and that I really shouldn’t be driving there.\u00a0 Right, but that
\nwas home, so I had to go back.\u00a0 I had to make sure my friends were OK, my neighbors were OK, my home was OK, my office was OK.\u00a0 I had to go to work on Monday to do my duty as a town employee and help with the cleanup.\u00a0 I had to get back.\u00a0 So Jeff and I followed the
\npoliceman’s hand-drawn map down roads I’d never been on through winding mountain passes.<\/p>\n

By now it had begun raining very hard (the policeman had warned me about this, and helpfully said that it would also increase the risk
\nof mudslides on these mountain roads).\u00a0 It was also very late and very dark and there were no lights anywhere.\u00a0 Not only did these
\nmountain roads not have street lamps, but electricity was out in the area, so there were no lights in any of the houses.\u00a0 Oh, and I was
\nalmost out of gas.\u00a0 The gas tank light was flashing.\u00a0 I was miles from nowhere.\u00a0 It was pouring.\u00a0 The ground was shaking.\u00a0 The animals
\nwere even freaking out (we had to stop or swerve more than once to avoid wild animals of some sort sprinting across the road).\u00a0 All the
\nwhile, I’m trying to convince Jeff that the situation is under control and I am not about to burst into tears.<\/p>\n

We finally made it home, after a lot of deep breaths, a lot of wrong turns, and a very empty gas tank.\u00a0 My house was in pretty good shape,
\nthough all of my plates were broken along with some of the furniture.\u00a0 Jeff spent the next few days cleaning up my house while I helped
\nclean up the town (yes, I married this man).<\/p>\n

In the end, everyone came together:\u00a0 JETs, locals, even people from out of town, and we made the community even stronger than it had
\nbeen before.
\n-Clara Solomon, Tottori-ken, 1999-2001 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

I was driving back from hockey practice in Nagoya one night and was getting impatient in the slow lane, and changed lanes a little abruptly.\u00a0 I cut off the wrong guy.<\/p>\n

He rode up to within inches of my bumper flashing his lights.\u00a0\u00a0 We were going about 60 MPH at the time.\u00a0 When he got some room in the
\nslower lane, he sped around on my left and continued to harass me.\u00a0 I thought, \u201cenough of this,\u201d and zoomed ahead of him, approaching
\nspeeds of 80 MPH or more.\u00a0 There were cars impeding him, and he zoomed around them on the shoulder.\u00a0 After about a minute he raced
\nup on my left just as my exit on the right approached.\u00a0 I noticed he had a big American car, an old Cadillac.\u00a0 At the last second, I kind of
\nwaved and muttered \u201csee ya,\u201d and veered off on the highway to the right, a highway with one lane in both directions.\u00a0 He cut across the
\npylons dividing the main highway and the smaller one, and maintained pursuit.<\/p>\n

He was trying to get around me now on my right in the oncoming lane.\u00a0 I tried to block him from passing, but could not.\u00a0 He sped ahead
\nof me and then stopped right there in the middle of the road and got out of his car, fists pumping.\u00a0 I screeched to a halt, horrified.\u00a0 He
\nwas about 65.\u00a0 Could I defeat him?\u00a0 I had a hockey stick in my car and, for a brief second, contemplated the prospect of fending him off
\nwith slap shots.\u00a0 Then, I backed the heck up as he was about ten feet from my car.\u00a0 Thankfully, no one was coming in either direction.\u00a0 I
\nenvisioned doing one of those 180 degree turns that you see in the movies, all in one smooth move.\u00a0 Instead, I clumsily turned around
\nin about three tries, and eventually escaped in the other direction.<\/p>\n

I took a circuitous route home, locked my door, turned off the light, shut the shades, and got under my futon, quivering like a fleeting
\nsakura<\/span> petal in the wind.\u00a0 The big gaijin<\/span> hockey player, cowering \u2019neath his covers.\u00a0 And this concluded my traumatic run-in with road
\nrage in the Land of Zen.
\n-Scott Alprin, Aichi-ken, 1992-95 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

So, there\u2019s that famous saying: \u201d I left my heart in San Francisco.\u201d\u00a0 But what about MY famous saying:\u00a0 I left my appendix in Japan?<\/p>\n

Yes, it\u2019s true, and I\u2019m sure I\u2019m not the only JET over the twenty years of the program to have a major organ removed during my tenure
\nthere.\u00a0 Although I came out of it in one piece (well, two pieces technically speaking), it was definitely a traumatic experience, from the
\nmoment that a fellow ALT and I arrived at the local hospital to have the security guard tell us it was closed\u2026ummm\u2026.on a Wednesday
\nmorning at 8:30 a.m.\u2026how can a hospital be closed?<\/p>\n

It appeared that he didn\u2019t realize from my hunched over posture and death grip on my friend that something was terribly wrong and we
\nneeded an emergency room.\u00a0 After some serious pestering in broken Japanese, the guard finally instructed us into the building
\ntowards the emergency window in the rear.\u00a0\u00a0 After several hours of questions, blood tests, x-rays and urine samples, the cramping pain
\nin my side was beginning to subside and I was convinced that it must have been something I had eaten the night before.\u00a0 Or was it
\nsomething more serious like a bug I had contracted during a trip to Thailand a couple weeks before?\u00a0 To be honest, appendicitis hadn\u2019t
\neven crossed my mind, so you can imagine the shock I had when I was wheeled in to meet with the doctor, and a nurse presented me
\nwith a cost list for overnight hospital rooms.\u00a0 I tried to explain in Japanese that I was feeling better, and that I\u2019d rather just go back to
\nmy apartment (a short walk away) to rest.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s when they pulled out the English: \u201coperation\u201d\u2026\u201dappendicitis.\u201d\u00a0 WHAT??!!\u00a0 Call my supervisor, get someone to explain this to me
\nin English.\u00a0 The first words my supervisor uttered were:\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m very worried about you\u201d \u2013 oh God, am I going to die?\u00a0 What is going on
\nhere?\u00a0 Turns out that my white cell count was high and the doctor was afraid my appendix would burst if they didn\u2019t remove it soon.
\nAnd by \u201csoon\u201d he meant in three hours \u2013 I was already scheduled for the operation, and was going to be taken immediately to be
\nprepped.\u00a0 No time to call my mom, let alone wait for her to fly the fourteen hours to get to me.\u00a0 No time to transfer to an international
\n(English-speaking) hospital.<\/p>\n

I was confused, scared, nervous, and didn\u2019t know what my options were except to put full faith in whoever was performing the
\noperation.\u00a0 I have never stayed overnight in a hospital in the U.S., so this was completely unfamiliar territory.<\/p>\n

When I woke up I was surrounded by my supervisor, fellow ALTs, and at least one principal from the schools I had been visiting earlier
\nin the week.\u00a0 I was greeted with an intense pain in my side and quickly learned where the button was to ask the nurse for more
\nmorphine.\u00a0 My appendix was gone, and I had been stapled across the incision, I had one week of IV antibiotics, and had to remain in the
\nhospital for that long.<\/p>\n

The first couple days I had a private room, although when the doctors doing rounds realized that I was a gaijin<\/span> they all wanted to
\n\u201cpractice\u201d their English, and embarrass their colleagues into practicing as well.\u00a0 Eventually, I was moved to a shared room (a tiny
\nspace of a bed surrounded only by a curtain \u2013 I think there were six to eight of us in each room).\u00a0 I\u2019m sure my roommates will forever
\nremember the gaijin<\/span> whose friends pushed the limit of the visiting hours and chattered in English as they were trying to rest.
\n-Shannan Spisak, Kanagawa-ken, 1996-98 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

I was driving down a long stretch of of lonely inaka<\/span> road with some friends. it was late at night. I wasn’t going very fast, as the road (as
\nthey are when you are in inaka<\/span>) was fairly narrow.\u00a0 In the opposite direction comes a little Nissan Starlet.\u00a0 My friends and I heard a loud
\n“crack!” I looked around, and nothing was amiss and the other car had driven off, so we kept on going.<\/p>\n

About 20 minutes later a car pulls up behind me flashing its lights and honking its horn. I pulled over and a guy comes up to my window
\nsaying (in Japanese) “you broke my side mirror off!” We argued for about five minutes.\u00a0 I thought I had been in my lane.\u00a0 He thought
\notherwise.\u00a0 We ended up deciding that I would pay for part of the cost of re-attaching his side mirror.\u00a0 My board of education never
\nfound out.
\n-Elizabeth Gordon, Iwate-ken 2003-05<\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

I liked doing elementary school visits because they were a nice break from the more formal junior high schools.\u00a0 One elementary
\nschool I went to in the early spring seemed to be the norm:\u00a0 enthusiastic kids and teachers but little common language.\u00a0 I taught
\ncolors and then we all played Red Light, Green Light.\u00a0 No problem, until at lunch a teacher invited me to eat at her desk with her instead
\nof a class. That was unusual, but I couldn’t think of the Japanese to say the kids liked it when I ate with them.\u00a0 So we got our trays in the
\nalmost-empty staff room.<\/p>\n

I had rice in my mouth when the teacher asked in perfect English if my parents were worried about me being so far from home.\u00a0 I
\nalmost choked.\u00a0 Then I said, “No, because they know Japan is safe.”
\n“How old are you?” she asked.
\n“Twenty-two.”
\n“My son is twenty-two.”
\n“Oh, that’s nice.”\u00a0\u00a0 I wasn’t sure how to respond.\u00a0 “What’s his name?”
\nShe got this faraway look in her eyes.\u00a0 “He’s dead.”
\nOh, good God.
\n“I’m very sorry.”\u00a0 I said.
\n“He’s in heaven.\u201d
\n“Yes.”
\n“I need a new child.”
\n“Uh.”
\nShe opened up her desk drawer.\u00a0 On top was a worn Japanese-English dictionary.
\n“It is,” she said, running her finger down a page, “fate that we met.”
\n“Uh…maybe.”
\n“You are far from your parents so you can be my daughter.”<\/p>\n

I’ll be honest, I don’t remember how I answered. I know that when lunch ended I had in my possession a multicolored-marker set in the
\nshape of pigs and her phone number, which I never called.\u00a0 I wondered often if I should check up on the teacher, but the lunch
\nbombardment left me frightened of her. She picked me; I owed her nothing.\u00a0 Yet I felt guilty.\u00a0 I told the other ALTs and the CIR about the
\nincident, and they agreed that it was best not to call her. She needed therapy, not a substitute child.<\/p>\n

At the last minute a couple months later I was back at the same elementary school.\u00a0 The same teacher was there.\u00a0 She stared at me but
\nsaid nothing.\u00a0 This time I ate with the students.\u00a0 When it was time to leave I dashed out leaving a hurt, grieving woman behind.
\n-Alexei Esikoff, Fukushima-ken, 2001-02 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

School lunch. Daily.
\n-Randall David Cook, Fukui-ken, 1991-93 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

Late one mid-tsuyuu night after conducting a cooking class for city hall employees (“Let\u2019s tacos make!”), I was riding my blue mama-<\/span>
chari<\/span> home in the rain across a crosswalk and was hit by one of those little things that the Japanese consider to be a work truck, but is
\nactually smaller than a Ford F-150.<\/p>\n

It had just started from a complete stop and had barely gathered any speed at all.\u00a0 I fell over but was completely unhurt.\u00a0 It was scary
\nfor me, and even scarier for the driver and passenger who got out in the rain with their matching seafoam green work coveralls and
\nhard hats, freezing in terror when they saw my gaijin<\/span> face.\u00a0 “Daijobu desu ka<\/span>?”\u00a0 \u201cDaijobu desu<\/span>,\u201d I replied.\u00a0 They bowed profusely and
\nmoshiwakegozaimasen<\/span>‘d as I walked my bike to the other side shakily.<\/p>\n

All I could think at that moment was that I wanted to go home where it was warm and dry and I could have a little nervous breakdown in
\nprivate.
\n-Carol Elk, Akita-ken, 2000-02 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

When I first moved to Japan as a JET, I was given a ground floor flat directly beside a small alley.\u00a0 I heard from my predecessor about
\nher underwear being stolen once when she hung clothes out to dry, but beside that all had gone well with her living conditions.\u00a0 I
\nthought nothing of it.\u00a0 Anyways, all is safe in Japan, right?!<\/p>\n

About one month after moving in I was hanging out in the living room with the glass door open (the one beside the alley), trying to
\nbreathe in a little fresh air on a warm muggy night.\u00a0\u00a0 I left my flat for only a moment to knock on my neighbor’s door and let him know I
\nwas ready to watch a movie.\u00a0 When I walked back into my flat, there was an intruder inside!\u00a0\u00a0 If the man would have come at me my
\nactions may have been different, but because he started to run away, my first instinct was to chase after him. Thinking about it now,
\nthe scene was actually quite comical; me running after this guy down the street as I shouted a bunch of English profanities at him.\u00a0 I
\ngave up after a few blocks; the little bugger was fast!<\/p>\n

After that episode, I couldn’t sleep well in my apartment for a week, thinking every little noise outside was that horrible man.\u00a0 Then,
\nafter two weeks (when my nerves finally started to calm) I got a knock on the door one early evening. There was some weirdo outside
\nasking to use my toilet.\u00a0 Even though I explained that the train station and its restrooms were only two minutes away he still wouldn’t
\nleave, demanding that I open my door.\u00a0\u00a0 Confused about what to do, I ended up grabbing a kitchen knife and swung open the door, but
\nby that time he was gone.<\/p>\n

Subsequently, I was completely freaked out about my apartment, and after a long talk with the landlord I was moved into a flat on the
\nsecond floor.\u00a0 I realized from early on that ground floor apartments in Japan are nothing but trouble!
\n-Meredith Wutz, Saitama-ken, 2000-02 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

I would only sign up for the half-marathon if, one, the course was flat, and two, it was a big race. Why? Well, I refuse to take part in any
\ncombination of mountains and running. And having a big pack of runners helps me find a group at my pace.\u00a0 My teacher (who helped
\nme fill out the forms) assured me that, to the best of her knowledge, I’d be OK.<\/p>\n

It was a chilly morning the Saturday of the race.\u00a0 Driving to the course through dense, forested valleys and hillsides, I kept waiting for
\nthe land to flatten.\u00a0 It never did.\u00a0 The race entrance was at the foot of an endless serpentine road.\u00a0 It got steadily steeper as it made its
\nway up the mountain.\u00a0 Oh great.\u00a0 I was jittery with pre-race nervousness.\u00a0 To make my condition worse, I was the only foreigner there,
\nand I knew about ten words in Japanese (it was soon after I arrived).\u00a0 I could count no more than 60 runners.\u00a0 All looked experienced.\u00a0 I
\nwanted to go back home.<\/p>\n

Soon, we were off.\u00a0 Uphill, for 13 miles.\u00a0 I stuck with the laughably small pack for the first 10 minutes.\u00a0 Then, the road hit the
\nfoothills\u2014so steep it wasn’t bikeable.\u00a0 I fell back from the rest and soon blew up.\u00a0 I was alone.\u00a0 On the side of the mountain, in the
\nmiddle of nowhere.\u00a0 My legs wouldn’t work and knees cracked with pain.\u00a0 My lungs burned, struggling to pull oxygen from the thin air.\u00a0 I
\nstill had ten miles to go.\u00a0 Where the heck were the race volunteers?\u00a0 Or the water stands?\u00a0 Or the slow runners?\u00a0 I finished.\u00a0 And that’s
\nall that matters.
\n-Patrick Burns, Saga-ken, 2006-07 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

Being an Asian-American in Japan can be a trying experience as a JET.\u00a0 Moreover, being a Japanese-American JET can place a heavy
\nburden on one’s life in Japan.\u00a0 While many JETs bicker about the process to switch over to a Japanese driver’s license, I personally
\nendured racial discrimination because I was Asian.<\/p>\n

While trying to obtain my Japanese driver’s license, there were two other people that were with me going through the process.\u00a0 There
\nwas a Caucasian-American, Korean student and myself.\u00a0 The Caucasian-American took the same driver’s education class as me and
\npassed the road test in two tries (without any comments from the examiners).\u00a0 While in the case of myself and the Korean student, we
\nwere consistently talked down to and peppered with disparaging remarks on how we were horrible drivers and that we were a liability
\nto other Japanese drivers on the road.<\/p>\n

Discussion with other American JETs brought me to the conclusion that the vast majority (non-Asian) of test takers were simply failed
\nwith an explanation for points taken off.\u00a0 Simply and cut and dry.\u00a0 Instead, I had the “pleasure” of being talked to like a little child.\u00a0 I will
\nnot go into my own reasoning as to why I was given this treatment, but I will say that being a non-Caucasian minority in Japan still
\nposes unique challenges for the JET participant.
\n-Lance Kimura, Oita-ken, CIR, 2002-04<\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

The trek was made.\u00a0 The bags were delivered.\u00a0 The host family met, and the school introduced.\u00a0 Ready to finally settle into my new
\n“home” and catch up on some much-needed rest, I was informed that the gas man would come to my kousha<\/span> and teach me how to turn
\non the water.\u00a0 \u201cExcuse me!?\u201d, thinking in my jet-lagged-mind, \u201cSince when does one need directions to turn on water?\u201d\u00a0 To my humble
\nsurprise, I did.<\/p>\n

The gas man arrived with tools in hand and my heart sunk with stomach in hand.\u00a0 Giving me a play-by-play of his actions, he proceeded
\nto “turn this red knob; push down, turn, and hold this lever, while cranking this arm so that it clicks three times…and then you should
\nlook in this window for the blue flame.”\u00a0 It was at that precise moment that I vowed to go shower-less for one whole year.\u00a0 Obviously a
\nmind reader, the gas man escorted me into the kitchen to assure me “the water here is much easier to use.”\u00a0 Thinking to myself, \u201cnod
\nand smile and it will all go away,\u201d I obliged.\u00a0 After more red knobs, pushing of buttons while waiting for clicks and blue flames and
\npulling pins to drain water after every use, I was assured I was qualified to use the water.<\/p>\n

With tears pooled in my eyes, weak knees and a queasy stomach, I saw the gas man to the door, while bowing and thanking him
\nprofusely.\u00a0 Not feeling so good, I thought I’d make a trip to the toilet where I could \u201crelieve\u201d my anxiety.\u00a0 When I opened the door, there
\nit was:\u00a0 a faded green wooden step with an off-white plastic seat loosely resting on top.\u00a0 \u201cThey have got to be kidding me\u201d\u00a0 was my
\ntheme song for the night.\u00a0 Inching closer and leaning in, I looked down a six-foot long, dark well which revealed to me the business of
\nALTs and Japanese past.\u00a0 Yes, in all of its outhouse-like glory: my pit toilet.<\/p>\n

Turning around to run away, my wonderful predecessor left the instructions pinned to the door: “call the sewage people once every
\nthree months to have it emptied” …oh yeah, welcome to Japan!
\n-Renay Loper, Iwate-ken, 2006-07 <\/span><\/p>\n

********************<\/span><\/div>\n

One night, just after my friend left my apartment, I went into my bathroom to take a big shot of cherry flavored Nyquil to deal with a
\nnasty cold.\u00a0 Down the hatch in one big shot, or so was my intention.<\/p>\n

Next thing I know I\u2019m choking on the syrup, and just as I seemingly coughed through the red goop, more kept flowing and blocking my
\nwindpipe.\u00a0 After the initial panic and coughing (15 seconds?\u00a0 30 seconds?\u00a0 I had no idea), logic kicked in enough to permit me an
\ninternal conflict about whether I should be more concerned with suffocation or vanity, as I continued trying to cough and breathe,
\nunsuccessfully for the most part. (45 seconds?)\u00a0 I could call my friend who had just left, but he was probably still biking home, and
\nbesides, I was kind of at a loss for words. (60 seconds?)<\/p>\n

Finally, I struck upon a counterintuitive solution, quickly scooped water into my mouth, swished it around and spit it out, after which I
\nwas able to cough out the remaining syrup and collapsed exhausted and terrified, but relieved, onto the bathroom floor.\u00a0 I surveyed the
\nred Nyquil flecks dotting sink, mirror, walls, toilet and floor and all I could think about was what this would\u2019ve looked like to someone
\nwho walked in and found me.
\n-Steven Horowitz, Aichi-ken, 1992-94 <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

DOCTORS, EARTHQUAKES AND CHIKAN (Oh My!) Tales of Trauma from Days of JET (Fall 2007) Despite many wonderful and inspriring moments while on JET, there were of course moments that were downright traumatic.\u00a0 Let\u2019s relive some of them, shall we? While playing baseball with my junior high school club baseball team in my host city, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":70,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-293","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PkZ7m-4J","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/293","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=293"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/293\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":296,"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/293\/revisions\/296"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/70"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jetwit.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}