The Excitement Never Ends

I should have known that since life has been moseying along rather quietly that we were due for an adventure. Leave it to Aaron to provide such an opportunity.

Japanese pumpkins are small, green, and very hard. However, they are worth the effort, being sweeter and more flavorful than American pumpkins. You just have to be careful when you are cutting them up. Let me repeat that. You have to be careful. Very careful. The night before last (Sunday), while trying to make pumpkin soup, Aaron decided to prove that point. Wielding an insanely sharp vegetable cutting knife, the kind that resembles a small box saw, Aaron nearly cut his finger off. After a few minutes of panicked, loud voices and some unfortunate cuss words, Aaron managed to wrap a towel around it as I dug out the gauze.

Once we regained our senses and Aaron assured me that I wasn’t going to need to retrieve his fingertip from the sink, he asked me to call the local doctor, Shimono-san. It was difficult to speak slow and easy English while my heart was still racing. Ridge and Holt just sat, nearly speechless as they watched. Mrs. Shimono, who speaks fairly good English, explained that her husband had been gone all weekend with the other workers from the clinic. It seems that it was their annual “let’s-go-to-Sapporo-and-get-drunk” party. He would arrive home in a couple of hours, but there was no guarantee that he would be sober enough to sew Aaron’s finger up. So, after a short conversation, we hung up, still not sure about what we wanted to do. At first, Aaron decided that he would wait until the next day since the bleeding had finally stopped. It didn’t take him long, though, to change his mind and decide to give the Nayoro hospital a chance.

So, armed with dictionaries, phrase books, and the cell phone number of English-speaking friends, the four of us piled into the car for the 45-minute drive. I think I spoke about two words the entire drive, as I was still in shock. His finger looked terrible! I can’t believe he didn’t chop it off. We located the hospital with minimal effort, parked, and found the entrance. Ridge had already been tasked with helping Daddy by using his Japanese, and he easily explained to the folks in the reception office what happened. Of course, looking at Aaron’s finger, they pretty much figured it out. I was relieved that the staff, though they spoke almost no English, were friendly and very helpful. They showed us where to wait (a narrow hallway with benches) and we sat. I didn’t see any sort of formal waiting room like you would see in the U.S. It’s hard to know if we were in the “emergency” area or the normal area. It was about 7:00 at night and the place was quite empty. We waited about five minutes and then Aaron was asked to enter the clinic area, Ridge in tow.

After a little while, a woman arrived with a boy who looked to be about 4 or 5 years old. They waited only a few minutes before a nurse came out and gave the mom a digital thermometer to put under the little boy’s arm. It struck me that this was the extent of the young patient’s pre-exam. Within another fifteen minutes or so, the mother and her son had seen a doctor and been given some medicine. Amazing!

Meanwhile, I did my best to entertain an exhausted Holt. For some silly reason I had allowed the boys to skip nap, so Holt had pretty much no ability left to control his impulses, since he was so tired. Ridge was finally asked to leave Aaron (something he didn’t like. He was worried), and he re-joined us in the hallway. I think the docs didn’t want him to see them sew up Aaron’s finger.

Aaron said they kept sticking needles into his finger over and over again to try and numb it. I guess it took forever. Apparently the doctors had taken one look at his finger, made some surprised comments, and sent for another doctor from upstairs (a surgeon, maybe?). He sewed Aaron’s finger up – three stitches, all of them through the nail. I cringe just typing that. After bandaging him up, they gave him some antibiotics and a letter that they had written at his request. Aaron wanted them to write down what they were saying so that he could show it to the Nishiokoppe doctor on Monday (the next day). Within an hour of arriving, he had been seen, stitched, been given medicine, and was sent on his way. They told him to pay on Monday when he returned to have it checked. Not pay the bill immediately? Unheard of in America!

So, yesterday, Monday, Aaron popped into the clinic after dropping the boys off at pre-school (it’s across the street). Though the clinic wasn’t open yet, he wanted to drop off the letter for the doc to read. We figured Aaron would drive into Nayoro later that morning. However, when the nurse read the letter, she called next door to the doctor’s house, and he insisted on coming over. He looked at Aaron’s finger, complimented the work, and re-wrapped it. According to Dr. Shimono, Aaron didn’t need to go back to Nayoro. Apparently, city doctors are prejudiced against county doctors and they must have thought that the Nishiokoppe doctor couldn’t handle Aaron’s injury. It was a relief for Aaron to not have to make that drive again. Next, Aaron mentioned that he hadn’t paid last night. Dr. Shimono told him to relax and pay it later in the day. We could make a transfer from our bank. Later in the day, Dr. Shimono phoned the Nayoro hospital to get our bill amount, called Aaron at home, and they walked together down to the bank. The doctor then showed him how to make the transfer. Don’t you wish that your town had this kind of health care service? Here’s the killer; the bill for Sunday night’s services came to less than $50, due to the fact that we have socialized health care. When Aaron left the clinic this morning, they told him not to worry about paying the Nishiokoppe clinic yet; he could do it later. I think he needs to go back a few times to have it looked at and the stitches might come out next week or so.

At some point I became philosophical about the entire thing. After all, what international experience would be complete without a trip to the emergency room?

Lastly, just an f.y.i. for anyone curious: yes, there was a big earthquake last week in the ocean to the north east of us. We didn’t feel anything – it was too deep. Yes, there were loads of tsunami warnings, and some of the cities just 30 minutes north of us were supposed to evacuate. Nishiokoppe is too far inland to have to worry, though. In the end, when the tsunami came, it was about 15 inches high. You could barely see it. So – no worries. The biggest problem that it caused for me was that the warnings on TV made it a little difficult to watch Desperate Housewives (one of the few bilingually broadcast shows).