Today I had my first doctor's appointment in Japan. Usually I wouldn't post a blog about something so small. However, it was such a different experience that I just can't help myself.
I started my day by getting up, gettin' dolled up, throwing up because I am so nervous, and driving into town to the Navy medical building. Brandon and I waited there for our translator. Yes, that's right our translator. She arrived and we loaded into a government van and headed to Sasebo General Hospital. Otherwise known as Sogo. It's a rather nice hospital. Well worn around the edges, used I would say, but in pretty good shape. It looks similar to something you would find in the states. There is a restaurant and mini mart located inside. The doctor's offices are also located at the hospital, so there were a lot of people all around. Most of them smile at me when they see my belly coming around the corner. Japanese people love pregnant women. They give pregnant women special seats on trains and buses. They make special parking spots in front of grocery stores for us, and give discounts at restaurants to women with pregnant belly's. Today I felt beautiful in spite of my waddle. Everyone bowing and smiling approvingly at the tiny baby growing inside me as I walk by.
I am enjoying my hospital visit already. The nurses wear similar nurse outfits that my Grandma Dot would have worn back in the day. White cap, the dress, the shoes, the whole nine yards. We did our check in, translator at our side, and waited. We then went to a small room off to the side of the waiting area, so that I could be weighed and measured. I stood on a scale and a robotic arm like something from star trek came down and measured my height. Not bad. I still have not gained a single ounce. Go me!! I have mild anxiety every time I step on a scale with my giant bulging belly. For some reason I always think it's going to shout out that I gained 50 pounds in a week like a loud speaker in a drive-thru. But not the case today, so I'm feeling good so far.
We continue on, up the stairs to the OB/GYN. The doctor's office has it's own wing, and reminds me of an airport. A long corridor with hundred of chairs, exactly like you sit in while waiting for a flight, lined up in rows. Giant windows are on one side of the corridor. I half expected to look out and see a 747 cruising down the runway. I wish it was that entertaining. But it wasn't. I sat down and waited. The doctor's office's have windows with a nurses station just like home, except over the top of the window there is a giant sign with a number on it. Like a gate at the airport. I could look all the way down the hallway and see 8 different "gates". I was at gate 52. Our translator checked us in. And we waited some more. Apparently when you go to the doctor's office in Japan, it can be a bit of a wait. Maybe because it's first come first serve, much like an Emergency Room in the States. You sit and wait for hours. I make small talk with my translator. She speaks good English, and has a bit of a sense of humor, so we got along splendidly. Out of nowhere as we are chit chatting, this woman covered in blood is being wheeled through the corridor in a wheel chair. When I say covered, I mean that I have never seen so much blood on a person that was not in a movie. I am starring in horror as this poor girl sits with a towel pressed to her head blood running down her arms and legs. A massive gash in her head is dripping blood. She is silent. Like the trooper I wish I was. They wheel her into a room close to where I am sitting. When you are picked up by an ambulance out in town, they immediately throw you into the back and head for the hospital. They do not clean you up, they do not give you CPR, they do not give you any medical attention whatsoever. It is their job to get you to the medical professionals. So when people arrive at the hospital, they look to be in bad shape. I learned this today as I saw and heard numerous people being brought in to be taken care of.
As I sit and wait, and wait, I pick my translators brain. I ask all sorts of questions. My mother in law would be proud of me. We wait for several hours. I am hungry and my back hurts from the airport seats. But I am starting to feel more comfortable about this whole ordeal. The ordeal about giving birth in another country. She tells me hospital policies and the way things are done. She walked me through it all step by step. I was glad that I had such a nice lady to help me. Finally my name is called, in Japanese of course, which sounds more like Emiry. I am led into a tiny bathroom and given a dixie cup. A plain dixie cup that you would find at a water cooler, with no lid, just the cup. The nurse shows me a window in the wall with a glass door. I am to pee in the cup, write my name on the cup, slide the window open, and place my dixie cup on a small shelf, close the glass door and leave the restroom. This was my plan. I wanted my plan to go well. They did not make this bathroom for an American pregnant woman. Clearly this was meant for a teeny tiny Japanese woman with an itty bitty baby bump. Not a lumber jack such as myself with a beach ball stuffed under my shirt. I squeeze into the stall. I do my business. I am praying that my dixie cup will not spill as I finish up the process of going to the bathroom in a Japanese style "squatty potty". I exit the stall. Another women enters the bathroom, the door closes. She speaks only Japanese. We try to go around each other. It's not happening for us. We bump belly's. We laugh and try a different route. Still no go. We are laughing pretty hard by now. I am trying not to spill my dixie cup. Finally we are able to smash our belly's close enough together, suck in all of our air, and escape past to the other side. We smile and bow at each other, still laughing. I put my cup on the shelf. I leave the bathroom still giggling about my experience.
I am then taken to another room where my belly is measured and all of my vitals are done. My nurse teaches me some exercises to do to help with my back ache. And I am off to another waiting room. We sit and wait for the doctor now. I am called in to meet my new doctor. He is a handsome young Japanese man that knows little English. But I am assured by my translator that he is very good. He will be my doctor from now on. Brandon is in his usual husbandly position. Standing by my side, holding my purse. He wants to do an ultrasound to check out the baby. I lay back on the table. He squeezes goo onto my round belly and starts it up. And there it is. The most amazing thing that I have ever seen. Our Baby. I have seen him many times through ultrasound, but have never grown tired of it. I choke up every single time, and have cried on a few occasions. His heartbeat is enough to give me a lump in my throat. I can't help but feel that it's a dream. We tried for so long and had been disappointed so many times, that I truly thought it would never happen. But there he was, our little miracle, kicking and squirming like the little wiggle worm he is. The doctor says that he is very healthy and everything looks perfect. Great! Couldn't be happier!
He explains that he wants to do another exam. You know. The one that no woman is fond of. Fine. Let's get this over with. I step into a small room, this time with Brandon right behind me. I take off my shoes, undress from the waist down, and I am seeing a mickey mouse beach towel on a shelf. It is meant for me to cover myself with. No paper cloth like in the states. I sit in a chair with my beach towel. Brandon is still standing, with a smirk on his face, holding my purse in the corner. I am trying not to laugh. I feel ridiculous. There is a curtain to my right, and on the other side is my doctor. He pushes a button. And out of nowhere the chair springs to life like a Disneyland ride. I am half expecting to be sent down space mountain. The chair lifts into the air, and spins to the right, my legs go through the curtain, the bottom drops out, my legs are slowly being separated. I am looking at Brandon with sheer terror and laughing so hard that I fear I am going to lose control of myself. Brandon is trying hard not to lose control himself, his face red from holding in his laughter. The curtain is between me and the doctor, and we can't see each other. He must be laughing at me at this point, because I am shaking from hysterical laughter. He does his job. I am done. He pushes the button. The chair swings back into action and I am soon back where I started. I go back to his office and he tells me that everything is good. I am doing a great job staying healthy, yadda,yadda. He is still smiling at me in somewhat of a perplexed way. As if to say that I am silly, but that my silliness is not objected. We leave the office for our tour of the Hospital Delivery Ward.
It is similar to that of where my mother gave birth to me 25 years ago. With an exception of the amazing technology that they use. Regular beds and rooms and so on. There are 4 people to a room with curtains in between each bed. There is a contraction room. It's just like it says. Where women go to have a majority of their labor. Then there is a delivery room. Where women go to finally have their baby. Typically they do not allow fathers into the delivery room. But they are willing to allow Brandon to witness the birth of his child. Good news to my little ears. There are no pain medications used in birth. Everything is natural. If an emergency c-section is done, they will put me out completely and wake me up when it's over. After I give birth, I will stay in the hospital for 6 days, in a room shared by 3 other women, and be served Japanese food during my stay. Not bad. It could be worse. It's not the dimly lit room with the birthing tub and Elton John music in the background, but it'll do. And it will be an experience that we will never forget.
Our day was long and exhausting. But I'm glad that we got the opportunity to do what we did. Afterward I felt relaxed and amazingly stress free. I'm no longer nervous about anything. I know where it's all at. I know what to expect next time. Ask me again how I feel when I'm a week from my due date. But at the moment I'm good.
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