Challenging #17

Oh Spring, have you sprung? The buds I captured on camera just weeks ago are now blooming along our street - a mix of purple and white with soft petals. Though the temperature took a brief dip, the weather warmed up this weekend and allowed the sun to show its face. Since we are tired of being inside, David and I decided to go for a hike on Saturday. I spent the week looking up places to hike on the internet, and found a mess of them in Fujieda (the city next to ours on the east side). My natural inclination when choosing hikes is to find the longest and most strenuous, the ones I actually consider challenging. None of those walk-around-the-park types. However, David convinced me that I needed to take it easy since I am so out of shape from sitting around since last Fall. He was right, I knew, even though I still wanted to choose the 14k (8.6 miles) that traverses 5 mountains or something.

So instead, I looked at #16, 17, 20 and 10. They were all under 5k (3.1 miles) and appeared to be large loops that took under 3 hours to complete. I figured they'd be super easy, even for me, the out of shape one. David looked at them, gave his consent and I decided upon #17, a 3.5k course. This colorful, childish/cutesy looking map indicated some exciting stuff, waterfalls, a bridge, a "cat" rock, and even a tunnel. Whoa, tunnel? It all sounded very "Alice in Wonderland" or some such thing.

We set off Saturday morning armed with enough snacks to sustain us for a 6k hike rather than our short one. Though the sun was peeking out here and there, the wind decided it would rather be its beastly self instead of its happy, carefree, light breezy self. Though, at times I was thankful for the wind during our hike.

The bus dropped us off on the side of the freeway. We walked back a bit as I had to go to the bathroom (go figure). Then set forth, only to meet a slight incline on a cutesy path. "Hills already?" I asked, through deep breaths. David says nothing in reply, but rather is admiring the scenery. He says something only when I keep stopping to take pictures, saying the hike will take us double the time with me stopping all the time.

The park came up first, and we wandered through it, checking out the man-made waterfalls. Wandered towards the woods and walked for a bit when we realized we missed our turn somewhere behind us. When we found our turn, and started up this rock embankment, I almost cursed our decision to turn around. This path was straight up the mountain. So we climbed, me stopping every few seconds to take pictures (and get my breath, I was dying). David disappeared out of my sight eventually, as he kept going. Though, the higher we climbed, the more came into view, and I remembered why I love the hikes that go up a mountain and back down. Those make me feel like I got somewhere, that I accomplished something, and that for a brief moment in time, I could survey the world around me and feel a sense of peace. I had missed climbing mountains.

We climbed higher, and passed the cat rock. It looked nothing like a cat. We have no idea why it is called cat rock. Looking out off the left of our trail, tea fields appeared on the sides of mountain peaks. The tea farmers must be brave souls, or billy goats.

Not long after, we reached the top. The elderly folks' hiking clubs were stopped for lunch, taking up space all over the summit. I tried to angle in between them to get a good view for a picture, but alas, they blocked all the good spots, and ironically, none were facing the view, they were all turned in towards the woods (or in the woods).

Now, by this time I was quite tired, though invigorated over the fact we had just climbed a mountain without intent. Nonetheless, our trail was beckoning, and thus we continued down the mountain. (Rather, trying to keep from falling down the mountain. Have the Japanese ever heard of switchbacks? (Please know I'm exaggerating there.))  We passed a woman wearing UGG boots, dragging a small child up the mountain. Our subsequent comments included something like "crazy," "why those shoes?" and "I'd never take a child on something like this."

The next bit was quite boring and not even worth writing about. Part of it involved concrete and the freeway and a giant overpass.

Soon enough, we were almost to the tunnel. We walked along the Old Tokaido road through what seemed to be a ghost town, and reached - The Meiji Tunnel!

A bit of info: The Old Tokaido Road was part of the original route (in the Edo period) connecting Kyoto and Edo (modern day Tokyo). This route was (and still is) the most traveled route in Japan.

After walking through the tunnel, our hike was essentially over, as the freeway was just in view. So, after another bathroom break, and some soft cream, we met the bus to head home. A fantastic hike, I mused. Though, later that night and the next day, my body revolted against me for putting it through so much trauma and stress. It was only then, that David pointed out the course was an advanced course. Or maybe he mentioned it when we were hiking. In any case, I didn't even bother to notice the kanji written above the title, the ones that clearly state (in small lettering) "advanced course" (in Japanese).


Of course. You see, I really can't get away from the most strenuous and difficult hikes, even if they are short. They find their way to me.

Counting Change... err... Double Bagging?

Alas, my days continue to be spent wrapped up in fleece in front of a space heater at home. Setting out on any kind of adventure typically requires movement, and as such, leaves me in a state of delirium and overwhelming feelings of possibly losing whatever food I managed to eat before said adventure. Oh, motion sickness, I have not known you my entire life! You have plagued others mercilessly, and I laughed in your face. You could never take me with you motion sickness! Never!

Oh, but now, motion sickness is my close friend. I hope you are all spared from this feeling if you have yet to experience it, as it is completely miserable. We have a ten-hour flight coming up this week, so I am desperately praying I will be saved from this dark plague, if only for ten hours...

The medical mystery continues! An MRI has been scheduled Monday afternoon, and an appointment set with my American doctor in Seattle. I should note, that in order to schedule the MRI, I had to wait an hour and a half at the hospital on Friday, just to SEE the neurologist. Then, the neurologist asked two questions, and then, "when should we schedule the MRI?"

I replied, "we can't just do it today?" Thinking, I thought that is what I came here for. Couldn't we have done this over the phone?

So far, as my illness continues to puzzle everyone, doctors, in effort to save face or some such very Japanese way of thinking, they go out with their last resort diagnosis: stress, mental problems, stress, see a psychiatrist. You see, in Japan, people are expected to take the doctor's word as the final word. They are definitely not encouraged to question anything the doctor says, while in the States, questions are *usually encouraged (with exception of crazy hypochondriacs that look everything up on the internet... uh... I don't know who does that! Certainly not I!). So, if you so much as question them, or in my case, say you are going to stop taking their drugs because they aren't working, they fume and refuse to help you out with say... filling out a leave of absence form for your boss. Doctors are like gods. Listen to them! Respect them! Never question them. They know everything, after all. (Note: I don't mean anything against doctors, I have had good ones, but simply my rant on the majority of Japanese doctors I've seen here).

Anyway, so as I try to cope with this strange illness that takes me on twists and turns, faster and more ferocious than river rafting (and just as nauseating, for extreme kinds), I try to go to the store to test how well I am doing. Can I move? Can I stand? Can I last through the entire experience and make it home feeling the same as before I had left?

I went to a nearby grocery store yesterday. David was gone, throwing kids around somewhere, and so I decided I felt well enough to bike to the store, grab a few things and go home to start my cookie baking extravaganza (homemade gifts for people here). The bumpy ride proved too much, as I arrived at the store a bit green and lightheaded. I wandered around the store, throwing things in my basket, straining my eyes as I tried to keep my head stationary (to not perpetuate the motion sickness). After finding the things we needed, and feeling I was going to lose it, I shuffled to the cashiers, and went to what I thought seemed the shortest line. A man that had been in front of me was going to take my spot in that line, as I was still shuffling there, but he seemed to find that a bad decision and went into another line. I thought, YES! I have won! I get the spot! In only moments, I would realize how wrong I was.

There were only two women in front of me, and the cashier was helping the first woman already. As I waited, I started to feel light-headed and hot. Uh-oh... hot flash coming, as I started to panic. It was then I noticed that the prim woman in front of me had double-bagged all of the items in her basket. Not only the produce, which is typical to put in those plastic bags, but every single item, including things like butter or cheese (which are already wrapped or in some kind of container!). I was shocked. This woman was the epitome of the environment's Antichrist. She obsessively double-checked all her items, and then twisted a plastic bag full of plastic bags into a knot, patting it three times and situating it delicately in her giant plastic pile. My heart felt as if it had been stabbed - all that work to be environmentally conscious and utilize the three R's, felt as if it was being canceled out by this woman and her plastic-mongering.

As the moments wore on, I felt weaker, hotter, and more lightheaded. The cashier finished with the first woman and moved on to plastic-hoarding woman. To aggravate me even more, she handed her items to the cashier ONE by ONE. Usually the cashier handles things themselves, as in the States. But NO, this woman would pick through her basket, hand the cashier the items in some order she needed them to be, saying "Thanks" with each one. To let out my frustration, and my anxiety over the fact I might pass out any minute and wasn't sure what to do about that since people were pushing up against me from behind, I sighed loudly, "Oh my GOSH." No one noticed. They usually don't, since they don't understand.

Finally the woman finished and took ten minutes to count out her exact change. At that point, I couldn't even move my head as it aggravated the lightheadedness even more. Thus, I couldn't look at the cashier when she told me the amount and when I handed her the change. I probably looked like I had a broken neck or something. Then, out of the corner of my eye, plastic woman proceeded to bag her plastic piles in what else, more plastic. At this point I hurried to the bathroom though, before I blacked out.

Suffice to say, I made it home, though felt miserable most of the rest of the day. Today is cookie-baking day so I must tend to that now. Oh, and packing.

Has been a pleasure, and please remember the moral of the story: reduce, reuse, recycle! Resist the urge to double bag every item you purchase in plastic. You too, can prevent global warming! Oh wait, that is the forest fire slogan isn't it. Well, you get the idea.

My Own Medical (Drama) Show

Apparently, social networking sites like Twitter or even public blogs seem to instigate make-the-customer-happy compensation. Such was the case for this couple. So, perhaps I may also dare to use this posting as an extortion to...well, read on. Oh, never fear reader, this should hopefully be amusing to you, in any case.

Let's start with the medical industry in Japan this country I live in that shall remain nameless. A few weeks ago, you remember, I was rather sick. Before that, I actually had an incident where I nearly passed out at school. They carried me to the nurse's room in a gurney... and the vice-principal kept patting my face and asking (in Japanese) if I could see her, and if I was ok. Of course I'm not ok... I'm laying on the floor in the staff room. What other time would I choose to lay on the floor in any place but my home? I digress.

Since this episode and my sickness, whatever it was... I have been hardly able to return to work. Standing is a chore, walking is like a cross country race, even moving my head around seems to emulate a feeling akin to those amusement park rides that spin you around and wave you up and down... like a cat playing with a mouse or other small rodent of choice. So, David took me to the hospital this week, and after a million tests, pertaining to my heart, all was deemed normal and they suggested that perhaps I am under stress. I was actually feeling fantastic before all this began, better than all of last year, so I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Stress?! Do you want to see stress, buddy?!?! I'll show you what this stressed-out woman looks like!!! I merely avoided eye-contact, looking at David as I started to cry, since once again, an unsolvable problem by doctors. Surprise, surprise. I should at least be thankful they were able to figure out that my UTI was indeed a UTI a few months ago. Kudos, bladder doctor guy, you have solved infinitely more than any other medical professional I have seen since coming here.

The cardiologist recommended seeing an ear/nose doctor. We went the next day, despite me swaying back and forth when I walked and not being able to keep my head straight most of the time. The man looked in my ears, gave me a hearing test, then had me lay on the patient bed and held these ridiculous-looking goggles up to my eyes and him and the nurse moved my body around while examining my eyes. Of course, this didn't really make me lightheaded any more than I was... and the doctor decided I must be fine since nothing happened. However, they weren't really moving me very fast and they were both supporting me so it wasn't exactly what I would be doing on my own. Plus, they didn't really look at my eyes after they made me put my head upside down over the edge of the bed. He started talking to David (in Japanese) and I suddenly hear "psychiatry." I turn, make eye contact with David, (I had been staring off into space only a moment ago due to my lightheadedness) and glared. David, of course, knew I had understood this small bit, the bit that I would have been better off not understanding, as this doctor apparently thought I was a nut-case. He asked me if I was stressed, to which I said no... all the while thinking about the fact of these doctors asking if I'm stressed, makes me stressed. It must be a common diagnosis. Oh, you are coughing up blood today? You must be stressed.

That's the end of that saga for now. Will I make it to work Monday? Will I collapse on the train and cause train delays prefecture-wide? To be continued.