A Story From Japan That I Never Told My Parents
Living abroad places a huge stress on your loved ones afar. Even though my parents were always 100% supportive of me wanting to live in Japan, I know that they often worried about me living far from home all alone.
It helps a lot that Japan is a relatively safe country. The crime rate is much lower than Australia, and the people are generally kind and helpful. But of course, I faced hardships there, just as I would have if I were living in Australia. There were a few times that I chose not to tell my parents the whole story. At the time, I didn’t want to burden them with more worry than was necessary. Now that I am home, I suddenly find myself wanting to share some of these stories.
This first story is one that I have only told one person. No one else knows. There’s no leaving the best for last around these partsーstraight into the deep end.
That time I ended up at a hospital after calling an ambulance for myself.
I have a mental list of the times that I felt most scared while I was living in Japan. This is number three. It was 10 pm at night and I was curled up on the floor in pain. I had eaten something that did not agree with me in any way shape or form, and could barely move from the pain. I dragged myself along the floor to the bathroom, hoping that I might be able to throw up whatever was causing the issue, but no such luck. My mind started to fill with all kinds of crazy. What if it wasn’t something that I ate? Maybe it’s my appendix. I’m too young to die! After about half an hour of agony and playing out every worst case scenario my mind could come up with at the time, I finally convinced myself that it was serious enough to warrant calling an ambulance. I was so petrified to call them. What if someone with far greater need tries to call an ambulance and has to wait because they are busy attending to me and my stomach ache? But I didn’t have a car, and didn’t have anyone nearby that I could call to come and take me, so I made the call.
First I called 119, the emergency number for ambulance and fire. I told them my condition and my address. They said they would send someone. A few minutes later I got a phone call. It was one of the paramedics confirming that they were on their way. Soon after the call I could hear the siren. They responded within ten minutes of my initial call. For a city of 33 million, Tokyo has a seriously impressive emergency response time! I guess it helps that the city is so compact.
By the time the ambulance arrived, I had crawled to the intercom so that I could let them through the downstairs entrance. I then crawled to my front door so that I could open it for them. This is probably one of the only times that I was appreciative of my compact apartment; I could crawl from one side to the other in just a few seconds! Two paramedics came to get me. They picked me up off of the floor and put me into a wheelchair of sorts. They moved slowly and calmly, locking up my apartment and collecting my purse, keys, and other things I needed. They then slowly wheeled me to the elevator and downstairs where a stretcher was waiting. They helped me to the stretcher which was really narrow, as was the back of the ambulance. I wondered how they accommodate larger patients.
Before we set off, the ambulance called the nearest hospital to ask if they would take me. The hospital agreed on the condition that if they found nothing seriously wrong with me, I would have to return home to my apartment that night. The paramedic confirmed with me that I accepted these terms, and we were on our way.
One of the paramedics was a young trainee. He made small talk with me as we drove. He asked all the usual questions; where am I from, why did I come to Japan, how long have I been living here, etc. It was oddly calming having a normal conversation in such an abnormal and terrifying situation. He even complimented my Japanese! He said of all the non-Japanese he had helped so far, I was the most fluent. Small glimmers of sunshine in an otherwise dark night.
When we arrived at the hospital we had to wait in the ambulance for several minutes until we were permitted to enter. There were more questions about what I ate and how I felt. Then I was hooked up to an IV which included some painkillers and blood was drawn for some tests. The room emptied and I was left alone to wait for the test results. The IV felt cold in my arm. I laid staring at the white ceiling, my stomach slowly settling. I contemplated if it was the painkillers or if my symptoms would have gone away naturally.
The test results came back normal and I was told I would have to go home. The nurse removed my IV and I walked out into the lobby where patients were lying on chairs in the waiting room. Some of them had IVs too. I picked up my medicine from the pharmacy and followed the signs to the front door of the hospital. I had absolutely no idea where I was. I could see a main road in the distance, so I started walking towards it. Once there, I managed to hail a taxi and direct them to my home. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. My first ambulance ride and first IV in Japan, what a night!
The doctors ascribed it to a bad case of food poisoning. The bruise on my arm from the IV healed after a few weeks, but the fear of living alone which had been a mere seedling suddenly grew a couple of centimeters overnight. What if something truly bad happened and I was too out of it to call an ambulance for myself? How long would it take for someone to come looking for me?
The winds of change had begun blowing.
It helps a lot that Japan is a relatively safe country. The crime rate is much lower than Australia, and the people are generally kind and helpful. But of course, I faced hardships there, just as I would have if I were living in Australia. There were a few times that I chose not to tell my parents the whole story. At the time, I didn’t want to burden them with more worry than was necessary. Now that I am home, I suddenly find myself wanting to share some of these stories.
This first story is one that I have only told one person. No one else knows. There’s no leaving the best for last around these partsーstraight into the deep end.
That time I ended up at a hospital after calling an ambulance for myself.
I have a mental list of the times that I felt most scared while I was living in Japan. This is number three. It was 10 pm at night and I was curled up on the floor in pain. I had eaten something that did not agree with me in any way shape or form, and could barely move from the pain. I dragged myself along the floor to the bathroom, hoping that I might be able to throw up whatever was causing the issue, but no such luck. My mind started to fill with all kinds of crazy. What if it wasn’t something that I ate? Maybe it’s my appendix. I’m too young to die! After about half an hour of agony and playing out every worst case scenario my mind could come up with at the time, I finally convinced myself that it was serious enough to warrant calling an ambulance. I was so petrified to call them. What if someone with far greater need tries to call an ambulance and has to wait because they are busy attending to me and my stomach ache? But I didn’t have a car, and didn’t have anyone nearby that I could call to come and take me, so I made the call.
First I called 119, the emergency number for ambulance and fire. I told them my condition and my address. They said they would send someone. A few minutes later I got a phone call. It was one of the paramedics confirming that they were on their way. Soon after the call I could hear the siren. They responded within ten minutes of my initial call. For a city of 33 million, Tokyo has a seriously impressive emergency response time! I guess it helps that the city is so compact.
By the time the ambulance arrived, I had crawled to the intercom so that I could let them through the downstairs entrance. I then crawled to my front door so that I could open it for them. This is probably one of the only times that I was appreciative of my compact apartment; I could crawl from one side to the other in just a few seconds! Two paramedics came to get me. They picked me up off of the floor and put me into a wheelchair of sorts. They moved slowly and calmly, locking up my apartment and collecting my purse, keys, and other things I needed. They then slowly wheeled me to the elevator and downstairs where a stretcher was waiting. They helped me to the stretcher which was really narrow, as was the back of the ambulance. I wondered how they accommodate larger patients.
Before we set off, the ambulance called the nearest hospital to ask if they would take me. The hospital agreed on the condition that if they found nothing seriously wrong with me, I would have to return home to my apartment that night. The paramedic confirmed with me that I accepted these terms, and we were on our way.
One of the paramedics was a young trainee. He made small talk with me as we drove. He asked all the usual questions; where am I from, why did I come to Japan, how long have I been living here, etc. It was oddly calming having a normal conversation in such an abnormal and terrifying situation. He even complimented my Japanese! He said of all the non-Japanese he had helped so far, I was the most fluent. Small glimmers of sunshine in an otherwise dark night.
When we arrived at the hospital we had to wait in the ambulance for several minutes until we were permitted to enter. There were more questions about what I ate and how I felt. Then I was hooked up to an IV which included some painkillers and blood was drawn for some tests. The room emptied and I was left alone to wait for the test results. The IV felt cold in my arm. I laid staring at the white ceiling, my stomach slowly settling. I contemplated if it was the painkillers or if my symptoms would have gone away naturally.
The test results came back normal and I was told I would have to go home. The nurse removed my IV and I walked out into the lobby where patients were lying on chairs in the waiting room. Some of them had IVs too. I picked up my medicine from the pharmacy and followed the signs to the front door of the hospital. I had absolutely no idea where I was. I could see a main road in the distance, so I started walking towards it. Once there, I managed to hail a taxi and direct them to my home. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. My first ambulance ride and first IV in Japan, what a night!
The doctors ascribed it to a bad case of food poisoning. The bruise on my arm from the IV healed after a few weeks, but the fear of living alone which had been a mere seedling suddenly grew a couple of centimeters overnight. What if something truly bad happened and I was too out of it to call an ambulance for myself? How long would it take for someone to come looking for me?
The winds of change had begun blowing.
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