Maybe I should start by saying we had macaroni for dinner tonight (box number six).
After a great morning riding bikes in Nakajima Park (a city park that was decked out in fall colors where Jack was riding on two wheels like a pro, his bottom tooth practically dangling out into his bike basket), we returned home for lunch. And at the end of lunch, Katie started dancing and the next thing I heard as I was working with Jack on his French was a crash. And crying. And Katie in John`s arms and blood.
Ah... head wounds. Jack`s encounter with a coffee table when I was 8 months pregnant with the girls taught us that head wounds bleed a lot. So we didn`t panic. Katie had a gash just to the right of her eyebrow -- and we were able to get it to stop bleeding, at which point I discovered that of the many, MANY bandages I had brought, none were a butterfly type and the regular kind wasn`t sealing it up. So I biked to the nearby pharmacy and found they don`t seem to exist in Japan. After searching all the bandage shelves, I even asked an employee there, using my dictionary and just got confused looks. So I came home, cut some myself as John cradled the still-sad Katie, and we debated (at length, it`s kind of sad to say) if we should take her to a doctor, as my homemade butterfly bandages were just OK, but didn`t keep the cut sealed in a tight or straight line.
Now it`s kind of embarrassing to admit that the thought of having to deal with our lack of language skills could keep us from seeking medical treatment for our children. But it`s not like she was having a heart attack -- it was really just a matter of how it would seal up, and what kind of scar NOT taking her would likely make. We poked at her head, tried to squeeze it together, briefly tried out a potato chip clip (too tight), and agreed if we could just hold her still for the next 2-3 days while we pinched it shut, she`d be fine. But since that wasn`t likely, we thought we better take her to a doctor.
In the midst of this, John was trying to send something in to work... so I took Katie to the pediatrician`s office that Hiromi told me about (yay Hiromi) and John stayed to finish work and try to get Liv and Jack to nap (yeah, right). I got there at 1:20 and discovered the doctor was `resting`until 2... so we waited, and when they finally opened up, I tried (my fingers flying on the keys of the electronic dictionary) to explain what happened. The conversation sounded like this.
ME: (In Japanese) Daughter... fell... table... big... cut... (point to still slowly oozing head wound on now chipper Katie, who thinks this is a great adventure)
NURSES: minutes of conversation... one asks where I am from... it felt weird to say `Canada`but that is where we are `from`and it probably wasn`t the time to explain our permanent resident status and citizenship history... she goes to find a nurse who speaks some English.
ME: (In Japanese) Daughter... fell... table... big... cut... to new, kind nurse who speaks a little English. I also told her when it happened, that we got `chi`(blood) to stop but `big cut` and asked `doctor sew or OK`...
NURSE: For some reason she asked how high the table was and measured the (very vague) height I indicated. She then peeked at the cut and looked shocked (it wasn`t THAT bad -- only about an inch or so) and nodded, `doctor sew`and something that I figured might have been `scar`... I looked it up and asked `big scar` and she said `yes. No big scar on little girl. No good. No good.`She then went to get the doctor (we were still in the waiting room when all of this was happening).
ME: (in Japanese) Daughter... fell... table... big... cut... to the doctor... he also peeked under the bandage and agreed it needed help. But... we would need to go to a hospital. He (apparently) couldn`t do it there. I said that in Canada, when something similar happened to our son, the doctor used a `special glue`to fix it. The English-speaking nurse looked horrified and translated and they all looked like we had just said we amputated our own son`s leg to get rid of a splinter. Maybe `special glue`just doesn`t translate...
I asked if I could call my husband who, it turns out, was on his way there with the Jack and Liv (deadline having been met, I think...). As we waited, I asked again about the glue and said `son cut head on table, too, when he was 2`and again got a bit of a horrified look -- like `how could you let TWO of your children crack their heads open on coffee tables...`Then I explained `Katie-chan san(meaning Katie is three), son roku (meaning son is six) and other daughter san`... then looked up the word for `twins`(which I am ALWAYS forgetting, even though it`s one of the words people ask me all the time here..). and then looked up identical... she, I think, got a kick that they will no longer be identical, and, I think, understood why there might be a bit of chaos in our house.
Also while we were waiting, she wrote out the name and address of the hospital for us to give to the taxi driver, and a brief history in Japanese of what happened (including the oh-so-important height of the table) to take to the hospital. I asked in Japanese `how much`for the office visit (or waiting room visit) and they conferred, and agreed that it was no charge. Have I mentioned the niceness of the people here...
John showed up and she explained much of the same in Japanese to him... and we thanked them repeatedly for all of their help. John had quite his own adventure at the hospital, so I will let him tell you that now. All I`ll say is that I stopped at Victoria Park on the way home with Jack and Liv, and had to leave after Liv tried to use the `squatting`public toilet by herself and got completely soaked with pee. Yes, the fun never stops, where ever we are...
Ok, Lisa is indicating that there is an important hole in this story to be filled. Yes, I spoke with the nurses as the kodomo (child) clinic where Lisa had taken Katie and they seemed emphatic that she should go to the hospital even though we knew her cut was slightly less severe and much less bloody than the precedent set by her brother 3.5 years ago. I asked her if the hospital was far, and she indicated that it was very far. She convinced me that there was no good way to get there except taxi, but that the whole family could go together and that Lisa might enjoy watching the other children there and going to the nearby grocery store. Lisa looked at two sleepy--though to their credit, not bleeding--children and decided she would rather take them home.
I hailed a taxi and got in with a now asleep Katy clinging to a shoulder. The taxi ride took forever. It was far away. Lisa later told me that the nurses at the children`s clinic had conferred for a long time when selecting which hospital to send us to. Apparently, the consensus was that the further away the better. There were also many red lights, the traffic seemed 25x heavier than Lethbridge (well, Sapporo is 25x bigger), and it was expensive. Katy slept on my shoulder from just before leaving the children`s clinic to well after arriving at the hospital. She did not know we were in a new place or that her Mom was no longer there.
To her credit, she took everything in stride at the hospital. She had cried earlier that morning about what clothes to wear for riding bikes, but she cried very little when splitting her forehead open and not at all during the various procedures at the hospital. About those procedures. It started in a way that felt frighteningly more American than Canadian. I was asked if we had a reservation. No. I asked if we had insurance. I said `No, at least not in Japan.`This was greeted with three friendly Japanese faces giving pained expressions and repeating `takai,` (expensive),`takai,`(yes, really expensive), and even an emphatic `takai desu yo`(wow, this is really, really going to be expensive) unless I made that one up in my head. This is the point where I would normally turn around and leave. That is, if it was my cut, I would not have come. If it was Jack`s cut, I would have reasoned that this will ultimately help his pirate costumes in the future. However, the nurses at the children`s clinic had won me over with the idea that it will not do for a girl to have a scar.
As some of you know, Japan is almost completely a cash economy. I said, all this in Japanese of course, that it would be no problem. I would pay, but would it be possible to pay on another day as I did not have much cash on me. Often in Japan, I do have US$200-$500 on hand, because that is what you do in Japan. Today, with biking in the park and no plans for shopping, I had just under US$200 in my pocket. They conferred and agreed that I could come back next week Tuesday (after the long weekend) and pay then. Out of curiosity, I asked what `takai`meant in this case. They said probably ni, san man yen (2 or 3 10,000 yen notes; about US$200-$300). This actually sounded like great news to me after hearing `takai`and remembering some of our recent experiences in US hospitals for fairly minor procedures.
I then went up and spoke with a doctor. First, I had to fill out forms on the first floor, get a medical card they created for Katie using the katakana Japanese characters that I gave for her name. Then I went to the third floor and began to struggle through a Japanese medical history form. Fortunately, I was able to set this aside and see a doctor almost immediately. I was still thinking that they might be surprised that we were at the hospital for this sort of cut. So I told him that we took her to a children`s clinic in the neighborhood, but that doctor insisted that we take her to this hospital. The doctor thought that was a good idea. He too was interested in the table height, oddly enough. Perhaps there are different categories of head wounds depending on the type of furniture involved. After all, you use different words to count in Japanese depending on whether you are counting flat things, long things. etc. Anyway, he also asked probing medical questions about how her head felt. For some of this he used some English words. He did not register any recognition of the word `glue`and I did not know it in Japanese. He looked it up after I told him that a Canadian hospital used a type of super glue on a similar wound for her elder brother. I have now cemented Canada`s reputation as a backwoods country where rugged recluses use McGyver-like jerry-rigging for almost all problems. Usually, these involve duct tape. This time glue.
He did not go for it. Not only did he decide she needed a sewing operation, he said he needed to consult with the plastic surgeon. The pained expressions and predictions of `takai`came flooding back. Now I thought, US$200-300 may have just gone up tenfold! Oh well, Katie remained happy throughout these conversations and went over to get books while we waited to hear from the plastic surgeon. All the books were in Japanese. They were, however, kids` books that I could stumble through. We read Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. The `mirror, mirror on the wall`agreed that I had to go to the plastic surgeon or risk that Katie might not be the fairest of them all, and that her once-identical twin might rub it in.
We were sent to floor 2, plastic surgery. Gulp. Two very nice women took over from this point. The amount of English had decreased once again. However, Katie`s stoic cheer transcended linguistic boundaries. They were quite amazed with her. They wrapped in a towel (to bind her arms to her body) and strapped a net over her to further immobilize her. I kept her head in position while talking to her with my eyes locked on hers. She grimaced with the anesthetizing needle and then again when they were putting in stitches. She didn`t cry. She didn`t move. She didn`t cause any trouble. She often smiled. She skipped afterward and agreed that she deserved a toy. Katie has been difficult the past week in a number of ways that seem like they should be easy. Katie was a champ at the hospital in circumstances that would text Bruce Willis`Die Hard persona.
Now we had to go downstairs to get medicine. They were prescribing antibiotics. They had disinfected numerous times, but weren`t taking chances. We got the medicine, made a follow up appointment to take stitches out (or check on them, or something...) Wed. morning (before their school and our fancy welcome lunch with the HGU president and 5 others). I also met with accounts payable department to make sure I could pay next week when we go back. They said ok. I asked how much. They seemed to indicate less than US$100. I had that and just paid. I may later find out that was just for the medicine or something. Then again, this might be like our Canada health care experiences where we had to pay for a few things out of pocket early on and found that the prices were quite reasonable. I don`t know. I do know Katie is pretty happy and has 3 very smart stitches near her right eye. I do know that she insisted on getting treats for the brother and sister and mama and me too, so we did. Katie and I found our way home with a combination of train and subway (and the requisite `need a bathroom NOW`stop somewhere between transferring from one mode to the other).
We got home to Mac and Cheese. We`ll see what all happens next Wednesday. We may be writing all blog readers for money. More likely, we will simply be impressed once again with how friendly, helpful, professional, etc. all the people here have been to us in an increasingly varied array of situations. Oooooh, this has become long. Good thing I am not doing the blogging most all of the time . . .
Another week has flown by (John doesn't teach Friday, so it's like our weekend begins early here). Fall is definitely here with what I think of as East Coast colors -- reds, oranges, and yellows (like the leaf falling in this photo at Nakajima Park this week).
We asked Hiromi if anything special happens when a child loses a tooth in Japan. She said that if it is a lower tooth, you throw it off a roof. If it is an upper tooth... well, the word she showed me in the dictionary was "to do a thankless task", but she motioned as if throwing it under something -- under a bridge, or somewhere low. 
Anyway, if you do both of these things, apparently it guarantees "strong adult teeth." I tried to explain the tooth fairy to her... and I think something was lost in my translation as well! The second photo here shows him looking at his newly exposed gums in the bathroom mirror -- where he spends a lot of time these days with his teeth.
No one fell asleep under the table this time (mostly because the kids were at school and you can pretty much count on me and John to stay awake when delicious food is around!). It was held at a "western" restaurant in a private (very fancy) room at a newly renovated hotel and the food was incredible! Mostly Italian-ish, although with a definite Japanese flair (the fish and some seasonings, I think). But there was... homemade BREAD! Delicious, crusty on the outside and soft on the inside homemade bread with cold butter. Sigh... it could have ended there and I would have been in heaven! The administrative people were very worried to have heard (after the fact) about Katie's doctor visit and sort of surprised that we didn't call them to accompany us and translate. I think if we had known we would end up at the hospital, we would have... but we really thought we could have taken care of it with superglue at the first doctor's office!
The last week or two, she has just started melting down at the littlest thing... for example, she likes to have her hair combed and put in TWO ponytails BEFORE she puts a shirt on. If, for some reason, you put her shirt on first, it's the end of the world and tears flow for 20 minutes. If all three kids are talking to me at once (which they often do, especially when we pick them up at school) and I don't understand what she's saying, she just literally collapses and starts sobbing. We have been just trying to accommodate her needs/wants/obsessions when possible, figuring that she just needs extra control and attention and love when so much seems out of control (or something like that). And we tell ourselves that it IS a lot to ask a little person -- especially a naturally cautious little person -- to be plunked down in a new country, with a new language, and new food and people and routines. But we also feel a bit like we are negotiating with a terrorist sometimes too! And it's kind of hard for Jack and Liv, who see that their sister is struggling, but are finding that the same whining and demands are not dealt with in the same way (which they are actually fine with). And my other worry is about the twin thing -- I don't think her meltdowns would seem so dramatic if we didn't have someone of the same age handling it all just fine in the house... I mean, I don't remember what Jack was exactly like at three years and five months. So I wonder if we have higher expectations of her because Olivia is doing so well. Does that make sense? Anyway... maybe the bigger story is how remarkable it is that Jack and Livie already seem so at ease here, and not as much that Katie is having a harder time. But sending good vibes her way wouldn't hurt, either, so if you have them, send them along!
