I was lucky enough to work near an orthopedic clinic famous for working on professional baseball players.  So they don’t mess around.

Another favorite is the massive machine they call “The Biodex.”

Me knee gets strapped into a rotating metal arm which automatically bends and unbends my knee. 

It’s quite intimidating to have your injured leg moved by contraption bigger than you powered by enough lbs/sq.ft. that there’s no way I could manually stop it.  So, bit by bit, the ligaments in my knee are stretched to a more normal shape and size.

All things considered, my knee is healing fast.  The clinic is excellent and I trust the rehabilitation regimen they have me on.  I’m off crutches, I can walk up stairs using both legs, and I no longer have an obvious limp.  At this point, the biggest barrier between me and the adventures of Seoul is no longer my leg but my job…but that’s a story for another time.

This is the second in a series of three time-lapses, which in many ways symbolize the experience each of us had in Tokyo. The first showcased the dreary but industrious Tsukiji Fish Market– an early morning scene characterized by bustle, irritability, and an overdose of caffeine (hallmarks of my life in Kanagawa). Stay tuned for our forthcoming, third installment– Brian’s neon orgy in Shibuya.

We hope you enjoy it. We know Matt sure did.

The Backstory: We were so broke in Tokyo, mid-April, 2.5 weeks away from departure, and one of our monthly leases was up.  Renewal would be $500 we didn’t have.  We were already living in poverty in one of the world’s most expensive cities, so why not go one extra step…Manga Kissas, Internet Cafes: Tokyo is peppered with internet/manga cafes, a cross between an internet cafe, a manga library, and a hotel that rented cubicles instead of rooms.  You can rent by the hour or stay overnight.  They seem to be used for 4 things, as far as I can tell. 

First, people who have missed the last train home and who don’t want to pay the monstrous cab fees to go home.  They’re either Japanese salarymen, stumbling out of a client dinner, or those damned denizens of Tokyo with money to enjoy the nightlife.  In the cafes, you could hear them throwing up or snoring drunkenly. 

Second, highschoolers who want some private time – they live with their parents and they can’t go to love hotels.  In the cafes, you could hear them…well, you could hear them.

Third, manga lovers and gamers. I was actually surprised that people paid money to go to a manga library and read manga.  What kind of manga people read or internet sites they browsed is anyone’s guess, although, in the cafes, they sometimes sounded like the highschoolers.

Fourth, the internet cafe refugees or “cyberhomeless” – people who can’t afford the outrageously expensive housing in Japan but who have enough money to afford a $10/night roof.  They rove from cafe to cafe, catching 7 hours of peace at night to recharge for a part-time job during the day.  It was in this fourth class that I fell.  So instead of paying $500 for another 19 days, I’d pay around $12/night for sleep in Tokyo’s central districts.  I’d save money on transit, because I wouldn’t need to travel out to exciting Kanagawa.  I’d also still be tutoring, so I’d be making a decent amount of money.  The cafes had free coffee and juice, and I’d enjoy internet speed we only wet-dreamed about back at our guesthouse.  I’d sleep in the cafes when I could and then just huddle up on one of the trains and sleep as it wound its way around the city.  So I packed my bags…

and set out with 4000Yen, about $45, to see where it would all take me…

With finances reaching the critical disaster zone Matt must forgo his spot in the guesthouse and find a home on the streets of Tokyo to save money.

Okay.  So, it has been a while.  More than three weeks, to be precise, which is exactly two weeks longer than it should have been since this episode was released.  A lot happened this month, from obvious hardware failures, to marauding ex-girlfriends, to rheumatoid arthritis, to hilariously weak immune systems, but the simple fact of the matter is that once upon a time none of this ever would have phased me.

In college I was known for my legen-(wait for it)-dary brute strength work ethic (which didn’t always result in creative successes, mind you), and through most of Season 1 I was operating on a moderated version of that same sleep:work ratio.  Either I’m getting old, the full New England winter (my first in almost a decade) was too harsh, or I’m experiencing a mild burnout.  Whatever the cause, I have only myself to blame.

So apologies all around: first and foremost to our viewers for making you wait so long to continue the story, but also to our crew who work so hard to capture this incredible footage on a daily basis.  There are some positive changes coming to the JS0 production office in the near future, but in the meantime I’m just going to try to buckle down and make this show keep happening, one way or another.

However, I have started a new physical therapy regimen…This kind of therapy was mistakenly translated as “radioactive therapy,” which was an unfortunate mistake.  I had a brief fantasy that it was causing my knee to hyper-regenerate, but instead it’s just pulsing sound waves to encourage circulation…and hopefully hyper-regeneration.

Please, oh gods of orthopedic healing, please heal my knee!  Also, it would be great if you could speedily remove the all the hideous bruises before I’m forced to wear shorts.  Go ahead, keep reading, you know you want to see a picture…

My knee needs to heal, because Seoul is starting come alive beneath our feet.  As spring rouses itself, all the mountains welcome hikers to their trails.  Nightclubs and parties are proving more common.  The weather almost demands that I go outside and play some sports. 

Instead, I missed the last train connection on Saturday night, huffing and puffing my way through the transfer tunnel as all the old Korean men scurried past me.  I’ve also slipped on a manhole and would have fallen, cursing in pain, had I not steadied myself with my injured leg, cursing in pain.  When the sun comes out, at least I can stand outside like a potted plant, steadied by my crutches, which I still use when traveling long distances.  I just wish my knee could photosynthesize its way to recovery.

A couple weeks ago, a strange opportunity popped up in the classifieds section: an editing job helping rewrite translated text for an MMORPG (like World of Warcraft) being imported to the US from Korea.  Flexing my nerd muscles, I threw together a creative cover letter that landed me an interview.  I got the job on Monday and started Monday evening. 

One of my first tasks was learning the game, so I spent some time playing the Korean version alongside my new boss.  Much less exciting than it sounds – it really just amounted to a lot, “oh what’s this say?” “where should we go now?” “what is that we’re buying?”  But it’s definitely a gaming environment.  On my first day, my officemates challenged me to a Starcraft match over lunch to see who would go buy ice-cream (unfortunately, we had a deadline, so I had to postpone the inevitable ass-kicking that would ensue).  Also, when I left the office on Friday at 7pm, 2 guys were questing together on another MMORPG.  It felt like a caricature of a Korea, in office format.  It should make for an interesting 7 weeks…

Let’s not confuse ourselves.  I would change the soiled underwear of every kindergartner at Brian’s and Rob’s school if it would give me my knee back.  If anything would undo the financial damage, physical pain, and the instability my knee will have for the rest of my life, I would do it.  This job is a small luxury amidst disaster, maybe like winning a poker game during a shipwreck.

And actually, one unacknowledged tragedy of my knee dislocation is that I don’t get to teach alongside Brian and Rob.  I mean, I’m not shedding tears here, given Brian’s horror stories, BUT if there was anyone among us who had a prayer of enjoying that job, it was me.  I LOVE kids, and anyone who has seen me around them would quickly conclude I simply never grew up.  I love to play with them, I love making them laugh, and when they don’t listen, I can just pick 2 or 3 of them up and relocate them, which usually gets all the children’s attention.  Unfortunately, I never even got to try.  So instead of playing roller coaster with kindergarteners, I’m leveling my Korean character…

Note: If you’re in Seoul and have a free bed or couch, let me know.  One of these days, the wrath of Rob or Brian might just spill over…

But no matter – the verdict was that I don’t need surgery, in the doctor’s opinion.  A hard cast for 2 weeks, followed by physical therapy, would be enough to restore full range of motion.  100% stability for my knee is, alas, a fiction – the ligaments are simply too worn at this point.  Perhaps if my kneecap strays again, reconstructive surgery will be necessary, but for the moment, exercise and safety are my closest allies.

Matt, version 3, here to stay for 2 more weeks.  I know it looks like I’m attempting a pose, but I’m actually trying to draw attention to the hard cast that now encases my leg.  Also, I’ve installed padding on my crutches, because it hurt to haul myself around by pressing my palms on hard, merciless plastic. Oh, and I’m wearing a Jet Set Zero T-shirt, but don’t let that think the shirt leads to crutches.

If you’re in Seoul and want to sign my cast, shoot me an email: Matt[at]jetsetzero.tv.  This sucker better not be bare white when they remove it in 2 weeks…

In the meantime, I got crutches to hobble around and my new cast lets me wear a shoe.  While I am mobile, I’m unbelievably slow, especially climbing and descending stairs.  My room is 4 floors from the street; the kitchen is 2 floors from my room.  I’m also skeptical that my crutches will fully support my weight for a long time – I am a little heavier than the average Korean.

The English support was definitely better but not enough that I felt completely comfortable.  It’s starting to approach that threshold between amusement and alarm.  I know these posts are long, so here’s a dialogue version of how today went down…

Me: Hi hospital, I’m sure glad you’re located at the top of a huge hill, now could you tell me where to go?

Hospital: *point* *point* *point* *point*

Me: Awesome…but I thought you were supposed to speak at least some English…

Doctor appears: Hello, I speak medical English.  Your knee has much effusion on medial side, we need to aspirate.  Remove splint.

Me: Does that mean my knee is swollen and you’re going to stick that needle into me again?

Doctor: Um…sure…*sticks needle into my knee, digs around, removes * Oops, looks like the blood is clotted and we can’t aspirate.

Me: That sounds kinda serious…will it go away naturally?

Doctor: What?

Me: Will the blood go away?  Be drained?  Get flushed out?  Is it dangerous?

Doctor: What?

Me: Will it heal naturally?

Doctor: Um…sure…here talk to my English-speaking nurse who will schedule an MRI to determine tissue rupture and medial structure.

Nurse: Nice to meet you.

Matt: Nice to meet you too.  So we’ll schedule an MRI to see how damaged my knee is?

Nurse: What?

Matt: Um…ok…I’ll follow you…

Nurse: MRI on Thursday, 9:30am – now let’s get another X-ray

X-ray people: Ok now bend your leg in this position

Matt: Um…I have a hard cast on and I can’t bend my leg

X-ray people and Nurse: * talk a lot in Korean *

X-ray people: Ok, all done, you can go *smile*

Matt: Um…ok…wait was that X-ray important?  Should I just take the cast off so we can get it done?

Nurse: Doctor said MRI more important and we skip X-ray since you already splint.

* opposite of confidence *

Matt: Ok, I’ll see you Thursday…wait, wasn’t the doctor supposed to give me some medication for swelling…er, “effusion?”

Nurse: Hmmm, they never told me.  Let me see and email you

No email has arrived

Despite the many miscommunications, I understood a fair amount of what they were trying to say, and I think I’ll be able to have someone that can serve as a translator on Tuesday morning.  The English-speaking support that was promised was better than on Sunday but not quite what I hoped for.  However, if I want to transfer to an international clinic, I need to get all of my medical records myself (which I suppose is theoretically possible, especially if I become fluent in Korean in the next couple days), and even then, they’ll probably repeat all the x-rays and MRI’s (which I’ll pay for again).  So for better or worse, I think I’m stuck with Korean University Hospital for now.

Well our time in Seoul has taken an unexpected turn…right to the Korean University hospital.  Basically, Saturday night I fell and dislocated my right knee – the knee cap decided to adjust itself all the way to the right, sticking straight to the right side.  The pain was excruciating, and I had a wonderful time popping it back into place.  I promise I’ll have another post about that story, but here I want to focus on our 6-hour stint in a hospital with no English-speaking staff.  It’s a very long story, so you’ll have to bear with me.

Sunday morning, my knee was so swollen and sore.  I couldn’t bend it, I could barely walk gritting my teeth against the pain, and so I lay in my massive room on my massive bed, wishing I were somewhere else.  Somehow, it got into my head that I could just wait this one out, let the swelling subside, and survive off advil.  At some point, I decided that I should at least investigate dislocated knee caps, and so I entered that terrible amusement park that is medical advice on the internet.

It wasn’t too pretty, but it did convince me that I should probably get it checked out, just in case there was sever ligament damage.  One of my biggest reservations about going to a hospital was that we don’t have Korean health insurance yet, and God only knows how much it would all cost.  The travel health insurance I have is far less than helpful – in order to even find a care provider in their network, I need to call during regular business hours, Monday to Friday EST…

My employer was also less than helpful.  I’m supposed to start teaching tomorrow, and his response to my plight was “Oh, this is very inconvenient.”  He also hinted that he might drive up here to “assess my injury.”  Dick.  He did call the Korea University hospital though and recommended I go there.

So with Rob’s and Brian’s help, I hobbled down the street to find a cab to take us to the hospital.  We had a great time trying to flag down cabs, most of whom didn’t want to deal with 3 white guys, especially when they realized how close the hospital actually was.  It wasn’t very impressive.  Finally, someone took pity on us and drove us to the Emergency room.

One of our guesthouse neighbors told us that there were English-speaking staff who could help us.  We didn’t encounter many of them.  The next 6 hours consisted of me being put in a wheel chair, asked to sign things, sitting for long periods in the waiting room, and then having my knee poked and prodded painfully while doctors spoke at me in Korean. 

It was clear that no one wanted to deal with me, and finally they just started pushing me around in the wheel chair without talking to me.  I’d be sitting in the waiting room, and suddenly I was traveling down the hall somewhere…for something…that I suppose I’d figure out eventually.  One time, they said something about painkiller medication, wheeled me to a backroom, pulled out a needle, and said “hip, hip.”  They told me to get on the bed and roll over, then jabbed me with the painkiller needle.  Excuse me miss, that’s definitely not my hip.

One of my favorite parts was when they took me back through the depressing infirmary to a small side room with hospital bed.  The woman finally spoke English to me, saying “head” and pointing at one end of the bed.  I clumsily climbed onto the bed, they wheeled a small table full of medical equipment next to the bed, and left without saying anything else.  Periodically, they’d return to add devices to the table, again without saying anything.  Looking at all the stuff they were putting on the table, I deduced that they were going to drain it with a syringe – stick a needle into my knee and extract liquid, blood, ground bone – something.  And still, no one had told me just what the fuck was going on.2 doctors finally came in and one sorta spoke English.  First, they asked if I spoke Korean, and when I said no, they both look crestfallen.  Not a good start.  Then, they asked me what happened, and so I explained for the 5th time since being in the hospital that my knee cap went sideways.  They both suddenly looked alarm and confused, and spoke to each other in Korean.  Exact opposite of instilling confidence.  They also kept checking both of my knees – actually, they x-rayed both of my knees too – as if they needed to compare the two to figure out what was wrong.  Shouldn’t you know what a knee is supposed to look like?!?  And yes, for the last time, it really really hurts when you press on that spot!  Is there a doctor that specializes in Western knees?  And does anyone here speak English?  Again, opposite of confidence. 

When they were done, the room was a mess (also opposite of confidence) and my leg was in a cast, drained of the blood that had seemed into my knee area.  I was told that they were going to keep me there overnight and they’d run more tests in the morning, to figure out the extent of ligament damage.  I cringed at the thought of footing that bill – so far, I had accrued about $400 in fees.  What followed was a wonderful game of “somebody else’s problem.”

They left me here, telling me only that I couldn’t eat or drink anything.  After that, everyone simply ignored me.  I swear the whole evening they were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who would have to go deal with me.  When I finally flagged someone down and asked them about going to the bathroom, they looked kinda confused (WTF? that should be an obvious need for a hospital patient), then a little uncomfortable, then they brought me a little jug.  They still insisted I shouldn’t eat or drink anything (even water), but no one explained why.

Rob and Brian left to get me my laptop and book, and just after they left, the doctors returned and told me I was discharged and I should return to talk with an orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday.  It was so clear that they were just passing the buck, sorta speak, and they were absolutely done with me.  The annoyance of the language barrier had passed that certain threshold.  It all blew me away – I didn’t understand how someone at the hospital wouldn’t speak English to me.  The receptionist did speak English well, but they never called on her to translate anything.  Rob’s suspicion was that they could speak English but were simply too tired and busy to bother speaking English.  I think that’s quite plausible.

I asked for a set of crutches to get around, but they said that the hospital store was closed.  I looked sorta incredulous and asked slowly, well how do I get around?  How do I make it back to my gue
sthouse?  They said, ok wait here, we’ll find a solution.  30 minutes later, they returned, apologized, and told me they didn’t have anything, not even a cane.  But on the bright side, I could eat and drink again, for whatever unexplained reason.  So I gathered my things, climbed into the wheel chair, and wheeled myself out to wait for a cab. With Rob’s help, I made it back to my room, conveniently located on the 4th floor, and now, this is my life until Tuesday. I was quite sad to come back home – at the hospital, my room was bigger, it smelled better, and the hospital bed was pretty comfortable.  I will probably slowly go insane here.  At least my leg doesn’t hurt, and supposedly I’ll have some answers on Tuesday. 

By the way, if you’re reading this, are located in Seoul, speak English and Korean, and are free Tuesday at 10am, I will buy you lunch if you’d like to accompany me to the hospital so I can understand what the hell is wrong with my knee.  Anything you ask – no form of compensation is too much to avoid another misadventure in a hospital with no English support.  Also, I have so so so much respect for immigrants in the U.S. that don’t speak English…it’s not a comforting experience going to the hospital.