*DISCLAIMER: I TALK A LOT ABOUT POOP IN THIS POST*
So far, I spent my week of awesome adventures with Laura in the hospital.
At around 6 pm on Monday, Laura and I got some pizza after work. At around 8 pm I began violently vomiting. At around 10 pm, the hell that is uncontrollable bowel movements –nay– explosions, ensued. I didn’t leave the bathroom until 6 the next morning. In the midst of this diarrhea-induced delusional grandeur, I went to work that day. My co teachers told me to go to the hospital and get a magical pill that will cure all my symptoms.
I realized I wasn’t going to get this magic pill as they ushered me to the x-ray room. It became blunt when he said that I was going to be in the hospital for a few days. Tears started streaming down my face. Like, the whole time. I cried when the thumb printed me (which I could only assume was the equivalent of signing a medical waiver in a language that I can barely read, let alone understand). I also cried as the had me change in the hospital outfit of superfluous thickness. I just cried. Although the doctor spoke some English, I didn’t really know what was going on. And to me, that was terrifying.
I went to the hospital and was there for 52 hours. The doctor said if I ate, I would vomit. If I drank water, I would have diarrhea. Classic catch 22. During my stay, I didn’t eat until my last reaming hour, which was a small, glorious bowl of rice. The hospital was really hot, and there were not private rooms, rather a hall of cubicles.
You win, Korea.
My brain has been so busy denying that I am going through a lot of a changes, that my body had to shut down for me to realize it. I have been like “La La La! New job, new country, new friend (singular), no boyfriend or familiarity, this is fine!” My body is indicating otherwise – that this is a lot of change for me to handle. I’ve had to see the doctor three times in one month. I think it’s ok now to admit to myself that maybe moving to Korea wasn’t as easy as I’ve led myself to believe.
The hardest part about being here, besides shitting myself more than a toddler, is everyone joking that I should come home. First of all, no. I did not spend all that money and time in my life to be discouraged by the worst, most heinous flu I have ever experienced in my life. Secondly, I came here to challenge myself. Going home would do the opposite for the personal growth that I am striving for. I appreciate the concerns and the humor, but I’m not coming home yet.
I still have a lot going for me here. I really love my job. My students are really great, and their enthusiasm honestly keep me going. I have a lot of bitchin’ travel plans and I am paying off hella student debt. I have so many reasons to be happy to be here. I just hope that from now on, my poops are solid.
P.S. My 52 hour hospital stay, including 3 x-rays, IVs, and three days of medication cost me 70,000 KRW or $61 USD.