Precaution: this post contains graphic images of my injury.
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| The beginning phases of cleaning |
I felt like I was waiting forever... sitting in that hospital bed in Suncheon, waiting for the doctor to tell me whether or not I needed surgery. I was clueless as to what type of infection I had, if it had become septic or not, or anything. I thought, "Am I going to lose my foot? Does it have to be amputated? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" My co-worker and I finally met with the doctor, and he nonchalantly explained that surgery was *absolutely* necessary, and there were no other options. Of course, I didn't realize that this is what he was saying until my co-worker translated it all for me. The doctors in Suncheon don't speak a lick of English, and my Korean skills aren't advanced enough to understand specific medical terminology. That was red flag number... well, it doesn't matter... but anyway, after I heard that, I was quite alarmed, scared, and overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions I hadn't experienced all at once before. The doctor really wasn't cordial at all, and didn't explain the procedure or anything. I kept thinking, "Is this normal? Is this just how it is in Korea? The doctor just tells the patient he/she needs surgery and they just accept it? Or is it because I'm a foreigner? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" I proceeded to thoroughly freak out, and kept trying to ask the doctor basic questions, such as how long the procedure would last, what type of infection is it anyway, what is the recovery process like, how will you go about doing the procedure, etc... The doctor was NOT having it, and I could tell he was fed up with the dialogue going on back and forth between my coworker and I. My questions were never answered. The doctor said he was busy, moved on to look at the next patient's information on his tablet, and walked away. I sulked back to my hospital room and couldn't think. It still hadn't even hit me that I was staying in a hospital room in a foreign country and told that I was about to have surgery. In less than twelve hours. In those twelve hours, I think I experienced every single emotion humanly possible.
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| Finally on painkillers |
Luckily, my co-worker was by my side, walking me through everyone I needed to call. First phone call was to mom and dad, who seemed just as confused as I was about the surgery. Not a good sign. I decided I would call them back once I've talked to my boss (Fulbright) and had received a second opinion. I call my boss and start bawling on the phone. What the hell was I supposed to do? Just get surgery and likely be sent home to America forever and terminate my Fulbright grant? I had no idea what would happen. Luckily, Fulbright worked some magic and saved the day. After what seemed like 987324239 phone calls later, I was suddenly on the phone with an American doctor in Seoul who personally knows the executive director of Fulbright Korea and works at the top hospital in the country. It was about 1:00 in the middle of the night or later, the doctor was cranky that he had been woken up by my boss, and he wasn't any more cordial with me, not that he ever is anyway (for my Fulbright friends, I'm talking about Dr. Linton... -_-). This doctor spoke at our Fulbright orientation and he was extremely rude to everyone and has an ego bigger than Korea itself. Whatever. Personality aside, he knows his medical shit, and told me that it was in my best interest to get to Seoul as quickly as possible and to NOT follow through with surgery. I was extremely panicked already, but I vividly remember Dr. Linton's words, "If there's anything I know about Suncheon, it's that they don't even have emergency vehicles when situations like these arise. If that's not alarming, then I don't know what is. I can't tell you what to do, but my personal advice would be to get yourself to Seoul as soon as possible and be treated here. Surgery is something Korean healthcare often resorts to when they don't know what to do."
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| Hooked on IVs |
If that wasn't a wake up call, then I don't know what was. The next five hours passed in a blur. All of a sudden my co-teacher was rushing to find the nurses and doctors and told them I'm leaving. I didn't even have time to process anything before I was back in my normal clothes and getting released.
"But why am I leaving now? It's 2:00 in the morning..."
"I already called you a taxi. It's arriving soon. You need to withdraw 400,000 won (~$350) for the ride to Seoul."
(Wide-eyed with disbelief) "WHAT!? I'm taking a taxi to Seoul right now????????"
"Yes. You need to get there right away. If you leave now you can get there before 6:00. It will be okay."
And that's how I ended up being transported across the country. At 2:30 in the morning, I faded in and out of sleep, being woken up every half hour by my bosses, co-teacher, and parents checking on me. 3 and 1/2 hours later and a 400,000 dent in my pocket (not to mention the 1,200,000 won (~$1,050) I paid at the hospital in Suncheon), I was at the main doors of Severance Hospital at Yonsei University in Seoul. My boss greeted me with open arms and I was immediately being rushed around. It was like the admittance into the Suncheon hospital all over again.
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| With my chingus |
First, I'm rushed to the International Healthcare Clinic. There, the American doctor (Dr. Linton) takes a look at my foot and calls the orthopedic doctor in as well. They mumble amongst each other and then I'm led to the orthopedic department. It's basically an open room, not sanitized very well, with patients sitting on beds staring at each others' open wounds and being quietly treated. And all of a sudden I come rolling in and it's like I'm the talk of the town. All of the patients are elderly Koreans and look to be regular patients, so I clearly stick out like a sore thumb. After what feels like being stared at for far too long, the main doctor finally comes in and jumps right in and opens up my wound some more. I am crying in pain. Yet again, no painkillers. The young interns eagerly gather around to see what happened to the waygook (foreigner). The nurses are holding me down as my foot and leg twitch while the doctor continues squeezing pus and discharge from my heel. I'm gripping my wheelchair as tight as I can, my whole body sweating, and my poor boss standing behind me can't bear to look. The worst part came when the doctor poked a long q-tip all the way inside my wound and rubbed it around to gather a cultures, in order to determine the type of infection. For the moment, the cleaning is over with, and I heave a sigh of relief. This time, it comes as no surprise when the doctor tells me that I'll be admitted as an inpatient, and depending on the type of infection that I have, I would be there a week or more. At that point, the doctor also wasn't able to determine if surgery was necessary or not, so I was prepped for it anyway. As such, I am wheeled around from station to station, doing more blood tests, lab work, and getting a big ol' splint on my leg.
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| Taking me for a ride |
I finally finish with lab work six hours later, and I'm wheeled to my temporary home for what would end up being a full two weeks. I eat my first hospital meal, which of course doesn't seem so bad, but I naturally got sick of after eating the same shit three meals a day, fourteen straight days. As I wasn't expecting to be in the hospital for such a long time, I had 0 belongings with me. Luckily my boss hooked me up with plenty of books, snacks, and toiletries, so that I could stay somewhat sane throughout all of this.
The two weeks spent at the hospital is already starting to blend together in my mind. It was a time spent catching up on reading/podcasts/movies/TV shows (even without a laptop!), pondering the highs and lows of life, forming new relationships, strengthening current ones, and wondering what will come after this is all over.
By the third day, I had my hospital routine memorized. Here's an ultra-exciting breakdown of it for you:
~Week 1~
6:00 a.m.: Wake up call as I hear the doctors roll in with their cart of evil utensils that clean out my foot... this takes 10-20 minutes depending on the severity of my foot. A similar situation as described above, where the doctor unwraps my splint, doesn't numb me up, and starts tearing away at my foot. It's literally like they're playing the game Operation! and losing (the buzzer going off nonstop as I grip my hospital bed for life and feel everything oozing out of my foot). The first couple days are hostile, no communication between myself, the doctors, and nurses besides...
"Does it hurt?"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
"How about here?"
*doesn't wait for answer and pokes foot*
"YES"
6:30 a.m.: The cleaning is finished. I typically spend the next hour thinking how I managed to make it through that without passing out. Sometimes the nurse comes by, takes my blood pressure/temperature, and asks if my foot hurts. Stupid question.
7:30 a.m.: Breakfast arrives. The first day the only medicine that showed up was Tylenol. TYLENOL. As my painkiller. EXCUSE ME. If you didn't notice, I have a GAPING HOLE IN MY ACHILLES TENDON. Could you please prescribe something other than Tylenol? I complain and my nurse finally hooks me up with stronger painkillers.
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| Nighttime cleanings |
8:30 a.m.: The nurse strolls in with my morning IV antibiotic. I attempt to make small talk in Korean. The nurses awkwardly respond in English, but eventually resort to Korean. By the end of the week, depending on the nurse, I actually have someone to talk to besides my visitors.
9:00 a.m. - 12:00 p.m.: Pretty much free time. Reading, watching TV, talking to my roommate, napping, just laying as my foot is throbbing in pain, attempting to give myself a sponge bath, or listening to "Serial" podcast. By the end of the first week I decide it's a good idea to do some "exercise", so I do a couple laps around the hospital floor in my wheel chair. During this time some interns from the International Clinic who speak English come and check on me. One of the interns is really handsome and awkward. He told me he likes that I'm a positive person and smiles a lot.
12:30 p.m.: Lunch arrives. No medicine during lunch. I force myself to eat as much as I can. I'm typically always asked by my roommates' caregiver why I didn't finish my meal, and why I don't have anyone with me 24/7. It's typical in Korea for someone's entire family to drop what they're doing and take care of a family member who has been hospitalized. There are no designated visiting hours because family members just sleep on the pull-out bed beneath the hospital beds.
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| Yummy pus and discharge |
1:00 p.m.: The main doctor usually comes by and explains what's going on with my situation. On the second day I'm told that I have a severe bacterial infection called MRSA. Luckily, the infection didn't get inside my bloodstream and I didn't need surgery. During my second week I would start "super strong" antibiotics due to the high resistance forms this bacteria can handle.
2:00 p.m. - 6:00 p.m.: More free time. Sometimes visitors come and hang out, the nurses come with my afternoon IV, and we go for a loop around the hospital. It's funny that in Korea the nurses don't care if I leave my floor. I could leave the hospital and they wouldn't have known! They just trust that I'll come back eventually.
6:30 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.: Dinner arrives. I get more painkillers and I'm happy! I usually get my nighttime IV too. I'm sick of the meals by this time every day. Fulbright friends come hang out around this time, and they're nice enough to bring me McDonald's (THANK YOU) or some other delicious food from outside of the hospital. I recruit my visitors to wash my hair and take me for walks around the hospital. After having six people wash my hair during my hospital stay, I have to give the title to Emily Lembo (if you're reading this, you rock!), but all of you are actually awesome for washing my hair and I appreciate it.
The doctor comes again for the night cleaning. Usually this one isn't as bad as the morning cleaning. They don't poke at my foot as much. They just do a lot of squeezing and change the bandages.
10:00 p.m. - 12:00 a.m.: I usually pass out around this time. The nurse comes in and takes my blood pressure and temperature. I feel bad for the night shift nurses. Actually, I feel bad for all the nurses. I swore that I saw the same 3-4 nurses the entire time I stayed at the hospital. Do Koreans ever sleep?
3:00 a.m. - 4:00 a.m.: The nurse always comes in around this time to check on me. And take my blood for more tests to determine the infection levels in my blood.
6:00 a.m.: Wake up call... repeat.
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| Keeping me company |
During the first week of my hospital stay, I had 2 different roommates, 15 visitors, 3 people wash my hair, and countless conversations with friends and family who were physically unable to keep me company. Roommate #1 was an old woman in her 80s, and she also seemed to suffer from an orthopedic situation, although I'm not sure what. I didn't talk to her or her family much, as they left early on my third day. I was still busy adjusting to hospital life at that point and wasn't in the mood for much chit-chat. Roommate #2 was a woman in her 50s who may have stomach cancer. Stomach cancer is quite common in Korea, due to the over-consumption of kimchi. Although kimchi is healthy, eating more than a handful per day causes certain chemicals and bacteria to tear the lining on one's stomach. So, she and her husband were waiting to hear results about whether she would need surgery or not. She stayed for four days, and found out that she had a 5cm stomach ulcer and would get it removed the following month. I made a get well soon card for her. I hope she has a safe surgery and a quick recovery this month! She is an elementary school teacher in Seoul, and she spoke a little bit of English, so we spoke a mixture of Korean and English together. She was very kind and so was her family. They helped me with anything I needed and shared their food with me, which I was grateful for.
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| End of Week 1 |
Thank you to all of my visitors who visited me during my first week, and to all my friends and family for your concern. I love talking with you all and I never get sick of telling what happened to me because your concern shows that you care. Week one visitors: 김영진, Amelea Kim*, Emily Shoemaker, Emily Lembo*, 최경희, Mat Goldberg, Kat Griffin*, Emmy Mildenberg, Teri Bunce, Korey Morgan, Katrin Marquez, Krystale Campbell, Sam Moser, Kevin Duong, Ken Hoofard.
* = washed my hair <3
Thanks for tuning into Part Two of Hillary's Hospital Hiatus! In part three, we will explore the exciting schedule change of Hillary's second week at the hospital, Hillary's random thoughts and information gained during all her free time, and dive deeper into relationships formed while at the hospital. To be released one week from today!
