Exorcising Avian Infoolenza

Last week was setsubun. a time in Japan where roasted soybeans are thrown at old men dressed as demons, and people chant ‘Demons out! Good luck in!’. I was not too into the festivities though. I wasn't feeling too hot...or rather, I was feeling too hot.

Despite sweating all morning in the cold teachers room, coughing with violence and frequency that would cut the bark off a dozen trees, and blowing forth a geyser from my nose with a regularity that would make Old Faithful proud (Every 12-14 minutes folks, step back mam, OK, there she blows!), it wasn't until I refused lunch that one of my bosses decided to inquire if I might not be feeling well.

Denying my inclination to reply directly with a shindeiruyo [I'm friggn dying], I instead gave a traditional ambiguous Japanese response along the lines of, "There is no excuse but I think the possibility exists I have become sick."

OK, maybe I wasn't that ambiguous, but I managed to make it known that I was indeed not feeling well and that a chance to go home or at least to the doctor would be appreciated. While the students ate their exorcist-themed lunches (soybeans in everything), I went to the doctor in hopes of exorcising some demons of my own. My own personal setsubun chant becoming, "Boogers out! Clean air in!"

Ting-Ting astutely suggested the evening previous that I visit a doctor. She mentioned a nearby clinic that she had gone to, and noted its cleanliness, friendliness, and professionalism. What she failed to mention was its hours of operation, so after spending a couple minutes trying to explain my situation to the nurse at Nonomura clinic, she kindly said to please come back in 4 hours when they were accepting patients.

Deciding a four hour wait was more than I could handle, I left the clinic vowing I would return for the treatment of a future malady. I said something like "I vow to return with hay fever" or "I vow to return with gout" or I might not have said anything but just vowed in my head. Details are a bit fuzzy about that fever-spiked afternoon. I do remember that it was with slight trepidation that i headed to Suzuki clinic instead.

I had nothing against Suzuki clinic, but I knew the doctor didn't speak English. Thats fine for the examination, it's easy enough to understand the directions I am being given, but when it comes to the diagnosis and treatment it's very difficult to understand everything I am being told is going on with my body. I'm always afraid I am going to miss a small but important detail that could make a radical difference. On my previous visit, it took a good 5 minutes to understand that the doctor was telling me I had to take two different medicines one time a day after dinner, not one medicine two times a day after eating rice. I'd be OK with some confusion if it was just a simple cold, but I was sure thats not what I had.

Indeed, it was much worse. First the doctor told me I had influenza. that much i understood. He then showed me the results of a test he had run where a dark line clearly indicated that I was positive with test-kit disease. After saying some things I didn't understand he said torifuru and asked me if I had heard about it on TV. I put two and two together. ‘Tori’ means bird, and ‘furu’ is the japanization of the word ‘flu’. He meant the avian bird virus. My eyes went wide and I told him yes I had heard about it. I had seen it on TV. People had died from it. To confirm, I asked him ありますか? [Do I have it?], he said あるよ！ [Definitely, without question].

Nonplussed to say the least, maybe it wasn't as terrible as the media had made it out to be, but I couldn’t believe how he could be so flippant in telling me. He mentioned something about medicine, and I remembered hearing that a majority of the cases are not fatal if treated in time, so I tried to remain calm and listen. He left the room and my mind raced, thinking of the calls home I would make just in case this turned out badly. He returned with a box of pills, and as he handed them to me, I realized my mistake. I didn’t have toriflu, he was going to give me tamiflu, a flu medicine. I felt both relieved and like an idiot.

He had been talking about the medicine. Due to the contextual nature of Japanese my question to him ended up being not "Do I have it [the disease]?" but "Do you have it [the medicine]?" As for the bit about seeing it on TV? It turned out that last year the Ministry of Health released a study about the drug that suggested it not be given to children 10-19 years old. Apparently, the drug had induced window jumping hallucinations and my-body-could-stop-a-truck delusions in a few children. Sorry kids 10-19, you cannot stop a truck, you have to wait until your my age. I’ve already been hit by a truck once here, but thats another story for another time.