First, was the chest x-ray. We were told to change into robes which of course couldn't be normal, easy robes. They looked harmless, but in actuality they had criss-cross ties that took all I had at 9 in the morning to figure out. Then, I was basically told to hug this wall looking thing and stand still. Easy enough.
After changing back into my clothes, I followed Julie to the next room where we were directed to stand on a platform and wait for a metal plate to bop us on the head. Then, it was the sound test...which after the non-English speaking lady sets a pair of headphones on my head, I nod when I hear the noise. It was only later that I was informed that I was supposed to raise the arm that corresponded to the ear the noise was coming from. Whatever. That's not common knowledge, despite what you say.
This room also consisted of the same lady measuring my chest (I didn't even ask why...) and her taking my blood pressure. Then, the eye exam. It was at this point that I realized I should probably have just gone home and came back another day. It's no surprise I'm pretty blind, but first, I held the little metal thing up to the wrong eye. Next, instead of numbers.... I started naming letters. Back home, the eye chart consists of letters. Not in Korea. The whole thing was numbers. Z and 2 look the same, right?
Now that I was utterly convinced I was going to fail, I was sent to take a pee test and give blood. Luckily, I grabbed the stall in the bahroom that actually had a toilet. I also got to walk into a room full of people holding a dixie cup of pee and my director reaches out to grab it from me to give to the lady. No, thank you.. I'll take it to her myself. Oh, and I almost passed out giving blood. Imagine how thankful I was to find out the last room consisted of talking to the doctor.
I wasn't very good at understanding the doctor. I'm not even entirely sure what I told him, since I just guessed what some of his questions were. No wonder I was called back 2 days later...
My liver enzymes were high. Whatever that means. I met my supervisor who walked me to the place I needed to go... arm in arm. I'll never get used to that Korean ritual. Girls locking arms to walk somewhere together. Awkward.
Basically, this time was even worse. My supervisor and the doctor talk the whole time in Korean except for one sentence from her to ask me if it hurts when I pee. No, but even if it did I would probably lie to you. Awkward moment number 2. Even more awkward is when the doctor asks me if my back hurts and when I answer no, he proceeds to get up out of his chair, come over to me, bend me over, and practically karate chop my back. Thank goodness it wasn't hurting. Sheesh.
Then, I was told I needed an ultrasound (which my supervisor kept calling something crazy... and scared me at first until I realized what she was actually talking about). I got dirty looks for having a belly button ring. Then, this is how the interaction went between me and the doctor:
Doctor: You take any (something I couldn't understand).
Me: Do I take any what?
Doctor: (mumble jumble)... h... e.. l... b.
Me: Do I take any h...e...l...b? Helb? Help?
Doctor: Yes. Do you take any help?
Me: Help? Do I take any help? Um. No...?
2 minutes pass by.
Me: Herb! Did you mean herb? H...e...r...b? No, I don't take anyof those either.
Doctor: H...e...r...b. Yes. Your liver looks abnormal.
Then she snarled a bit and sent me on my way. Like it's my fault Koreans like to mix up the letters "r" and "l." Then I was told to yet again give blood. Oh joy. Oh, and I was also told that my mom would be back in a minute if I just sat and waited. Because, obviously, that's who the Korean lady with me must be.
In the end... my health check came back fine. I guess I was just fighting off something the first day. Thank goodness. I like it here... but I don't even like doctors back home, let alone ones who can't understand me. Knock on wood I can last a year without catching any major illnesses... or breaking a bone... or anything that would require me to go through the torturous process of seeking medical help.
"Try a thing you haven’t done three times. Once, to get over the fear of doing it. Twice, to learn how to do it. And a third time, to figure out whether you like it or not." —Virgil Garnett Thomson