I am Turning Into Dr. House...

…it’s not just the leg, it’s the language too. Don’t worry, I haven’t “like” picked up the American accent. It’s just that last week I said zee instead of zed for Z and I didn’t even need to think about it. I know that makes me a walking (ok not so much) contradiction (see my blog entry from 18 July 2008), but in my defence I do have a lot on my mind at the moment.

I went back to the hospital on Tuesday 24 March and my lovely green cast was cut off. Instead I was put in an ankle support bandage and told by Christina to flex and massage the foot and not to walk on it for another three weeks. I paid for an appointment with an orthopaedic surgeon who didn’t even make eye contact with me, let alone look at my foot once it was out of the cast. I assumed that the doctor who took the cast off would have done something if there was cause for alarm. But the cynical part of me thinks they just wanted me out of the hospital as fast I could hobble. As you can see in the lovely picture below, my leg muscles have wasted away, and my right leg has taken on the characteristics of an anorexic twiglet.


To make matters worse, on Friday, one of my students, 14 year old Jun, “accidentally” sat on my foot. The fact that my Manager doesn’t speak or understand English was highlighted by his lack of alarm at a shaking, pale Jo saying “he sat on my foot.” Smiling and nodding was not the response I had been hoping to elicit. This incident, combined with me falling over on the train on Saturday, saw a return visit to the hospital on Sunday. This time I went without a Korean translator, with the hope that I would be able to speak to a doctor and get some direct answers. So instead I went with Viro, who’s been an awesome crutch throughout this whole nightmare. After the doctor finished panicking about the fact he had to use English with me, I was given painkillers (or “energisers” as he referred to them), my second shot in the arse and I was told that I should be starting to walk on my ankle again using only one crutch as support. I am now at a loss as to how five days and extra trauma to the ankle can lead to such a contradictory diagnosis, and as a result this weekend saw my first proper meltdown since this whole thing started.

I asked the doctor to explain what was actually wrong with my ankle and he told me it’s an ankle sprain. My research on google (desperate times and all that) based on the treatment they’ve given me, and my interpretation of the x-ray, points to a high ankle sprain, which hopefully explains why it’s still so painful nearly 5 weeks after the event. The doctor added that if the pain persists I will need an MRI, a machine that Hongseong apparently doesn’t have, but to be honest I just want to wait until I come home, which is only in 29 days now. I asked for and got a copy of the original x-ray, and I will be going back to the hospital for more painkillers...but I am just confused as to the best course of action.

This whole situation has not put too much of a damper on the end of my time in South Korea, although it’s definitely screwed up my plans, and made the most simple of tasks a lot of more difficult. Hopefully the second doctor was right, and I know that walking on my bad ankle should build up the muscles and strength my leg again, I just don’t want to do anymore damage… I guess only time will tell.

11 Months of...Culture Shock!

Even though it’s been nearly eleven months since I stepped off the plane at Incheon International Airport, South Korea still has ways of leaving me very bewildered. Strangely, the bigger things I have just come to accept, from last second schedule changes, to the lack of helpful health and safety signage. Those annoying “no-win, no fee” companies would have a field day in Korea. “This week I ended on my arse in the lobby of Seoul Hagwon after my crutches did the splits on the wet floor. There was no warning sign in sight. Save your Kimchi managed to get me 1000won (50p) in compensation. I bought gimbap.” No, it’s the smaller things that still puzzle me. From serving Tabasco sauce and pickles at every slightly “western style” restaurant, to suggesting I go to the hospital every time I have a cold. I asked one of my adult students about the latter and she explained that one time her mother “endured a cold and it turned into pneumonia.” By “endure” it’s possible she meant her mother never rested and continued to both work 12 hour days and be the sole carer for the family. She also said that the Korean health system is very cheap. I countered that it’s free in the UK and if you went to the doctors with a cold (Korea doesn’t have an equivalent to your local GP/doctor) you would be laughed out by the receptionist and possibly fined for wasting valuable daytime TV watching hours.

More importantly, what is the doctor going to give you for a cold that you can’t buy in a pharmacy? A stern and condescending look? A prescription of kimchi and soju three times daily? Or is Korea harbouring a secret cure for the common cold that it’s refusing to tell the rest of the world about? Judging by the amount of colds I have seen “endured” in this country it’s unlikely. Perhaps if the country wasn’t so anal about sick days and the fact they require a doctors note/all your limbs being severed/death, it would be less of a problem because you could take a couple of days to rest and recuperate. The same would be true if covering your mouth with your hand when you sneeze or cough became a common part of etiquette.

Last week was a first for my time here in Korea. I had a schedule change with an explanation. Thankfully because of my leg I was already sitting down. Ok, I said I had come to accept them, but I meant in a "admit they are going to happen kind of way!" Not that "I have to like them!" Apparently my lessons were too short and the parents had complained, strangely though it was just my lessons that were too short, so the change in schedule only saw my lessons being made longer. I noticed on Thursday that with the first class of the day the kids can’t get from their school/piano hagwon/maths academy in time so they are around 10-15 minutes late for their first class, which is with Yu (the manager). However, instead of moving the start time later, the time has just been added on to my class. I am sure that there is some very flawed logic there. Though why the parents just can't be told that the English monkey is unable to perform to the best of her ability at the moment, and quite frankly doesn't care that you want an extra ten minutes without your children, is beyond me. I am home in just over a month, so my reservoir of enthusiasm and energy has run dry. There's only so much a girl can do with her leg propped up on a chair, only able to use 10 percent of the board, and without books or resources before she gets very frustrated with it all!

My cast.

On Wednesday 4 March I went back to the hospital to get an update on my foot, this time I went with Christina. I was so certain that I would walk out the hospital that I had a shoe in my bag. Instead I was put in plaster cast, given back the crutches and sternly told not to walk on it at all. I am not entirely sure what the problem is, though from the talk of Park Ji Sung between my doctor and Christina I surmised that it's a common injury among football players. The fact that an operation was mentioned (really don't want it to come to that obviously) means that I am taking the "no walking on it" instructions very very seriously. I have to go back on the 24 March to get it checked up again, so fingers crossed that it's not as bad as my over active imagination is trying to tell me it is.

Life on crutches has shown me a whole new side to Korea. From almost being bowled over by an inconsiderate old lady in the hospital reception, to being stared at more than usual. If I thought that being a foreigner in Korea was an insight into being a celebrity, being a foreigner on crutches is like being the Brangelina of celebrities. But the most frustrating part of daily life has been the distinct lack of disabled access to most of the buildings in Hongseong. Lifts here have a handy function-if the kids decided to press all the buttons "as a joke" you can press them again to prevent the lift from stopping. This fact is only handy when you are in a building with lifts.

I haven't been given a repeat prescription for pain medication, which has been a nightmare at times. It's hard enough trying to get the kids to take you seriously when you are sat with your leg in the air encased in a bright green plaster cast, let alone when you are pale and unable to concentrate because of the pain. As we know my method for coping with pain is swearing, and I am fairly certain that the parents won't thank me if all I teach their kids in the next couple of weeks is expletives! But since Christina has apparently "retired" from teaching again, Charlie has been sacked with no warning and the new guy's vocabulary is limited to ancient song lyrics I haven't had much luck expressing how I feel about all this.

In many ways life continues as normal, my schedule has changed three times this week, Seok Jae still "doesn't like me" and Hannah is still crying because her younger sister knows more answers than her. I am glad that I did so much sightseeing before all this happened, and even if I limped home tomorrow I would limp back knowing I have seen a lot more than I ever expected I would. It's still hard not to be despondent at missing out on some of my plans. I am just glad that Viro filled my last weekend with Shabu Shabu, delicious pasta, and plenty of conversation, even on the “bastard stairs.”

I have 45 measly days until I am on the plane back to the United Kingdom, so since I now have a lot of free time on my hands I thought I would share some more about what I will miss from Korea….

…..my kids.....

They have all been so helpful about my leg (fetching me coffee, mocking me and stealing my crutches) so I let them run riot with a marker pen and some tipex and this was the result.

"You're genius" Eric (aka Aron, Angela’s slightly crazy brother) who am I to argue!

"Please Stay Korea" This from Yun Seob, the boy who started my classes hating everything “just” because.

"Teacher Jo is good for health" Steven-maybe he meant the health care system! Though he’s so keen he tries to sneak into extra classes. He also idolises King.

"T. Jo Babo" Sally, babo means stupid/foolish in Korean.....Hey my leg is plaster cast because I tripped over myself…so she might be on to something.

”T. Jo Fighting” Amelia (aka Lita), it’s used by Koreans as a term of encouragement rather than as a challenge!

"I love you" Numerous students (all together now awwwwwwww!!!!)

“T. Jo Bye Bye” Sonia, one of my favourite students, her family is moving to Seosan soon. She asked me yesterday if I would cry when I go home. I think that’s a given now, these kids have been so great.

“빨리나” Basically walk again quickly!

They definitely made the days go quicker, which is no mean feat since I am spending close to 11 hours at the hagwon everyday due to the lack of transport, and the fact I live in a building with no lift.