Category Archives: Health

Asia, Health, Korea, Travel

Travel

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Friday gratefuls: The disappearing cold. The streets of Songtan. My packets of antibiotics. 14. My son coming home early. A trip to a historic village tomorrow. Seoah. Murdoch. Kate, always Kate. Healing at 76. Slower, but happening. Travel. On the road again. Israel, too. Shadow Mountain and CBE. Home Granite, er, Turf.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breathing freely

One brief shining: His sand colored combat boots sit by themselves in the land of outside footwear, his desert camouflage with the dark oakleaf of the Lieutenant Colonel lays draped across the back of his desk chair while my son now dressed in shorts and a t-shirt plays like a ten-year old with Murdoch, throwing a ball, hiding it, picking him up and holding him.

 

This trip has entered its final days. The last weekend starts tomorrow. A trip to Jeonju Hanok village on Saturday. Screen golf on Sunday. Not sure about Monday and Tuesday yet. My plane leaves Incheon at 5:40 pm on Wednesday. Interestingly, I leave Incheon at 5:40 pm on Wednesday, September 27th, and arrive in Dallas at 4:21 pm on Wednesday, September 27th.

Due to the week plus of cold induced rest I’m probably going to miss the National Korean Museum. See it next year. Don’t want to try the subway with my immune system weakened by the cold. The cold is gone, yes, and I have meds for the sinus infection, but I’m still in that fatigued state that follows an illness. Ode said that we don’t heal as fast at our age. He’s right. Slower, but it’s happening.

 

Made a slight tactical error when planning this trip and the one to Israel. Forgot I’m 76 and not 60. I’m neither as resilient as I was then, nor am I as quick mentally. Neither makes traveling a non-starter, hardly, but I planned on several days of self-guided wandering in Seoul for example. Not only did I encounter first the hip and back pain caused by spinal stenosis, but I found the subway maps and train routes did not clarify for me as fast I was used to. Then, the cold.

Travel for me now needs to factor in those changes. How? More emphasis on rest. More prep time before leaving for a sight seeing morning or afternoon. Greater use of taxis and buses. These are thing I know my sibs have already learned before nearing 80 years old, but I’ve not got the same level of experience they have.

My first trip outside the U.S. since 2016 finds me back in the same spot: Songtan, Korea. Back then I was 69 and still going strong. Thought I was picking up from there. Nope. In the retrospectoscope, a Kate term, I see all this as obvious. Yet it wasn’t.

I resist going too far down the road of accommodating my age. That way leads to rust in the joints and clogs in the mind. To ignore that my body has changed, on the other hand, simply brings me pain. More workouts with resistance, a stronger core. More walking with shoulders back, stomach in, heel contact, second toe in a straight line with something? And, yes, more leisurely lunches watching the folks of Songtan and Jerusalem going about their daily lives.

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea

Life, that’s what all the people say

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Wednesday and Thursday gratefuls: Korea. Slow healing. Rainy Skies. Sleep. Won’t come. Acting. Ming Jen. In Korea. Fuzzy thinking. Me. A bit of homesickness. For my own bed and my own home. A week from today I give back my pass to the future. My son’s sweet nature. Seoah’s persistence and culinary skills. Murdoch staying with me late into the night. Thursday. The family practice doc talking fast under her mask, pointing at my heart. Rain in Songtan. Umbrellas. Umbrella condoms. Sudden changes. Weariness. Recovering at 76. No pneumonia. That cute baby in the waiting room.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Home. Thursday Being old.

One brief shining: There are nights where the inner alarm trips too often, where King Bladder asserts too much royal authority, where no position feels comfortable, the nose plugs up, and the whole damned thing becomes a frustration.

 

Last night was such a night for me. Kate taps me on the shoulder, whispers in my ear. The tincture of time. Of course. Right. Ride it out. Keep drinking fluids and resting. Yes, my love.

Two and half years since she died. Seven years since we were in Korea together for my son and Seoah’s wedding. Her presence missed. Each day.

Life without a partner. Life without Kate. Alone, but not lonely. That’s almost all the time. How? Friends. Family. Books. Television. Purpose. Exercise. Health.

Would I like to have a partner again? Gosh I don’t know. If it could be Kate. In, well, you know, a beat of my heart. Otherwise? Learning the ways of a new person? Not easy at any age. I miss the love and day-to-day caring. Of course, I do. Yet.

I don’t miss having a partner often. I miss Kate, sure, but that’s not the same. Once in a while I’ll see a couple together and have a smile cross my face, then a nostalgia moment. Brief. Think how nice it would be. Then on to other matters.

 

Today, Thursday, I’m finally beginning to feel better. Still tired, but I slept well last night. When sick, a partner is wonderful. Kate, especially. Because she knew so damned much. Always felt confident about handling illness with her by my side.

Without her. Not so much. So I err on the side of caution. This cold had lasted seven days. Didn’t seem to be getting better and I got worried that it might be slipping down into my lungs. At 76. Respiratory illness? Avoid it if  you can. So I broke ranks with my ride it out thinking and went to see a Korean family practice doc yesterday.

No appointment. Seaoh and I walked about ten minutes from the apartment to a clinic next to Paris Baguette. Seoah checked me in and we were directed to the plain waiting area. Several Koreans of different ages from infants to old men and women sat there, umbrellas furled by their sides and wrapped in the saran wrap like condom available for them as you come in.

One little girl looked sick in that kiddy way. A frowning face, listless, I’m not having fun at all. An infant sorted through the toys his mother had brought along. An old man in a sweatshirt went over and stuck his arm in the blood pressure monitor machine. Korean news anchors said this and that on the inevitable TV screen.

A screen showed our position in the queue. About 30 minutes, Seoah said. Sure enough about thirty minutes late I heard a Korean version of my name. Seoah and I went to sit in the ondeck seats. A nurse had already come and taken my temperature. When she showed it to me (a digital thermometer), I almost jumped out of my chair. 376! Yikes. A slight fever she said to Seoah. Oh. The metric system. Right. And, no decimal point. Normal is 36.5 to 37.5.

We went into the doctor’s office. No trophies. No fancy shots of nature. Looked like a down at the heels working class living room with no couch. The doctor, a woman, sat an old wooden desk with two computer screens in front of her, frantically typing. She looked up and motioned me into a chair beside the desk. The books in the modest bookshelf behind her looked visited often, none of them for vanity.

Maybe that’s a big difference between the two experiences of Korean medicine I had and the American one. A lack of vanity. This is a system that does not try to elevate medicine or the doctors above their patients. It’s clear that its modest decor and utilitarian approach to patient care is for the purpose of delivering medical care at an affordable and easily accessible level.

When the doctor wanted to examine me, she had me move into a chair that looked like a dentist’s chair from the 1940’s. Both in terms of design and use. She listened to my lungs and said, X-ray.

Got those by walking across the waiting room. Again, no need to go to an imaging center. She looked at the results. Nothing in the lungs. Sinus infection. A prescription. And we were out of there.

Total cost: $15 or 20,000 won. The meds, at 21,600 won, cost more than seeing the doctor. And, we’d gone in without an appointment.

 

 

 

 

 

Asia, Health, Korea, Travel, World History

Korea Observed

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Tuesday gratefuls:  Tom. Zoom. The Ancient Brothers. Diane. Taiwan. Travel. At our age. My son’s tough work week. Seoah’s galbi stew. Eating special food while sick. Beef and Chicken. Murdoch staying in my room last night until I went to sleep. The trip ticking over to its last week tomorrow. Alan and Joan. Brunch a week from Friday.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Galbi stew

One brief shining: Seoah set out a bowl with chunks of Beef short ribs (galbi), Potatoes, and fat Carrots in a Tomato inflected broth while explaining that Korean people eat this when family members are sick, the Chicken soup she made a couple of days ago, too.

 

More reflections on Korea. A few thing I missed last time. No outside shoes in the house. A small area to take off my Keen’s and put on my New Balance in house kicks. The tiled roofs of traditional houses ending in an animal medallion at the corners. An overall earnestness that shows up in store clerks, folks walking on the sidewalk, workers going on an apartment building site. We will do our best!

The Orthopedic Hospital. What it did not have. A huge parking lot. A lobby imitating corporate buildings. Muzak. Personnel who came around to help with the financial aspects of your visit. A sense of protected distance for the doctors, obscured procedure rooms. It felt approachable, a facility there to care for your health, not to capture revenue for Allina or Centura or Fairview/Southdale.

In these ways the Korean health care system works in the way a non-capitalist tainted system should and can work. We  have much to learn from this modest and conveniently located approach to health care delivery.

 

Korea has a population density of about 1300 people per square mile.* This makes it one of the world’s most densely populated nation. Driven in part by terrain that is 70% uninhabitable-Mountainous and a massive in migration to urban centers over the last couple of decades it’s easy to see here in Songtan.

The complex of 16 buildings that holds my son and Seoah’s current home adds to that. As does the Peyeongan City complex going up right across the street from them. A walk in the neighborhood bounded by Songtan-ro and Seyeong-ro showed that four and five story apartment buildings make up the bulk of residential structures there.

When I asked Seoah where she thought she caught her cold, she said the subway. There are so many people here. She’s had several colds. She observed that I may not have had much illness because where I live there are far fewer people. Probably right.

This website’s South Korea entry reveals though an interesting reality. “… the birthrate still remains low and if this continues, the population is expected to decrease by 13% to 42.3 million in 2050 and extinction by 2750 is a possibility.”

South Korea has the fifth lowest birth rate in the world.

 

 

South Korea is one of the planet’s most densely populated countries with a density of 503 people per square kilometer, or 1,302 people per square mile. Nearly 70% of South Korea’s land area is mostly uninhabitable due to it being mountainous and the population is established in lowland areas, contributing to a density that is higher than average. In 1975, an estimate was made that South Korea’s population density in its cities, each containing at least 50,000 people, was nearly 4,000 on average. As a result of the continued following of the practice to migrate to urban areas, the figure was much higher in the 1980s.

Asia, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea, Travel

Sick

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Harvest Moon

Sunday gratefuls: A family evening with my son. A cold. Being sick far from home. Cooler weather here and on Shadow Mountain. An all clean Murdoch. My son’s golf game. Improving. His friend Brandon said, “A natural swing.” A trip to Korea. A week and a half to go. The Korea National Museum. The subway. The blue line and the orange line.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rest when sick

One brief shining: Oh, you know, that first sneeze, the stuffed upness, a slight weary tinge to the whole body, then a second sneeze, the wondering where you put the box of tissues and what’s on your calendar that now has to get pushed further out, wondering about sleep, hoping for a good rest doubting.

 

Outside of my one bout with Covid a couple of years ago I don’t recall being sick after an awful time with the flu in 2019. Which is somewhat remarkable given those years were Kate’s worst. Yesterday though. Seoah’s cold moved in the opportune way of viral kind into my body and my son’s body. Not awful, but not fun either. Enough to scuttle my plans for a trip into Seoul today to the National Korean Museum. I can hear Kate: Push fluids and get rest. Yes, I trust my doctorwife still.

At 76 any respiratory illness has the potential to do damage, so I’ll go with a pound of cure since that ounce of the other has failed me. Read. Sleep. Sleep. Read. Not a bad way to spend time actually. I brought along my favorite book, Ovid’s Metamorphosis and I have my kindle, too. Not many English language bookstores in Songtan. Or, even in Seoul, I imagine.

Glad I chose to stay for a month plus. A week to relearn to walk and cozy up to better spine health and now a few days to see out my tiny visitors with plenty of time leftover to be with my son, Seoah, Murdoch. See Songtan and Seoul. Be on vacation in a land far from home.

I’m no longer in the oh my god I’m here I’ve gotta see everything mindset. Kate and I, partly due to her later in life back problems, long ago adopted a rest and see what we can, learn as opportunities emerge approach. This leads to a relaxed travel experience without the urge to bag sights, see the must see museum/church/village/waterfall.

Wish I could say I’d always been chill like that. But no. See Pompeii. The Colosseum. The Uffizi. The Kuntz Historische. That holy well. Anglesey. The Empire State Building. The Golden Gate Bridge. So glad Kate and I found another way to be on the road. Helping me now.

My son had a rough night. Worse than mine it sounds. A slow day, then. Especially since he has a very tough week coming up.

Over and out from the virus ward on Songtan-ro.

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea, Memories, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Family First

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Seoah. My son. Their apartment and its twelfth floor view. Murdoch, asleep behind me. My Korean zodiac bracelet that Seoah bought me at the Bongeunsa gift shop. The Pig. Yesterday’s workout. Tiring but pain free. Bulgogi for dinner last night. The Korean National Museum. Songtan. Korea. Shadow Mountain. Kate, always Kate. Jon, may his memory be for a blessing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Spine

One brief shining: Thinking of Shadow Mountain the Lodgepoles and Aspens on Black Mountain the sudden change to a gold and green Mountainscape, cooler Air and blue Sky, Black Bears going into hyperphagia, Elks bugling for dominance and sex, Leaf peepers crowding the Mountain roads.

 

No, not homesick. But. I do love the Rockies. And I do miss being there as this change to fall happens. It’s a wonderful and special time. Wild neighbors preparing for Winter, many Plants finishing up their season of growth and heading toward dormancy, the surging energy I always experience then. I’ll not miss all of it. Glad for that.

 

Seoah’s got a cold. Hoarse, feeling fatigue. Overall crummy. My son has an especially long day today. Probably a quiet day. I may take myself out for lunch. Go for a walk. Exercise tomorrow.

 

Two weeks to go. Will head up to the Korean National Museum on Sunday. Begin to consolidate the learning I had from the Korean histories I read. Visual learning added to book learning. Going to buy gifts there, too. Three big gift shops. Hope they can mail them to me. Another Seoul train ride.

 

Murdoch sleeps at my feet right now. Where he stays for my son. Each morning as at home I get a cup of coffee, a glass of Water, a bowl of muselix, and sit down to write. This is a habit begun years and years ago. Writing first thing in the morning. Given over to Ancientrails now, but often including novels a few years ago. Will return to that longer version when I can.

 

Family first. An Air Force motto. And my son’s. Also a defining characteristic of Korean culture. Family comes first. Always. Here’s an example. When Jon died last year, my son and Seoah came to help. A lot of emotion of course, sometimes frayed nerves, but everybody helped, got through the first shocking weeks together.

After a while though Seoah began to ask questions. Why do you help them so much? To my son. In her definition neither Jon, nor Ruth and Gabe were family. Help, yes. Go all out? No. She wanted my son back home in Hawai’i. With his family.

This culturally inculcated strong family orientation has begun to fray as kids leave the home village, marry foreigners, as Seoah did, take jobs in China, as her brother did; however, the brother moved back to Korea and built their parents a new house, Seoah convinced my son to forego a plum assignment in NATO to return to Korea for four years to be close to her parents.

Culture has a conservative disposition, it changes slowly, sometimes not at all, and breaking from its received understandings can cause guilt and shame. Powerful, powerful motivators.

 

Art and Culture, Asia, Commentary on Religion, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea, Painting, Travel

Seoul. Day 2.

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Seoul. Bongeunsa Temple. Coex Mall. The KiaF art show 2023. Shogun. Hotpot and barbecue. The subway. The bus. Songtan. Murdoch. My boy. Seoah and her brand new bag. Walking pain free. Healthy walk. Gangnam. A pleasant, Goldilocks day. The Silla Dynasty. The Joseon Dynasty. Deep history in the center of ultra modern Seoul.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Healing

One brief shining: Overhead hundreds of white lanterns each with a different prayer the noonday sun creating deep shadows beneath in regular lines as we walked up the path to Bongeunsa Temple.

 

Second day in Seoul. Caught the Seoul Train around 9:30 am yesterday. Snagged a seniors and pregnant women’s seat while my son and Seoah had to stand. Even in Songtan two hours or so from Seoul the light rail had already filled up.

Right here is the moment for my shout out to Korean medicine. On Tuesday of last week I saw the sharp toothed orthopod (as Kate would have called him). Got a diagnosis, some muscle relaxants, and an initial deep massage, shock wave therapy, electrotherapy, lumbar traction.

Still tender when I returned on Thursday for another round of massage and procedures. Saw the doc again. We agreed that Mr. Lee was really good and that he had hurt both of us in the interest of healing. Laughing. Doc said I could do some light jogging on Saturday.

I walked about six blocks on Friday, heel first, head up, stomach in. Did the hip rotation exercises and the spine stretching. Went out again that evening with my son and Murdoch. Tired by the time I got back, but not in pain.

These folks took what looked like a trip shrinking back and hip spasm and turned it around in a week. They gave me the  tools necessary to not only recover, but in fact walk better than I have in years. As long as I walk healthy as Mr. Lee wanted and get back to my core exercises, I will not return to the me before the hip pain, but will become a better me protecting my back and keeping it strong. Not bad for two sessions.

On Saturday my son, Seoah and I went to Gangnam. You might remember this neighborhood from the Gangnam dance moves made popular a few years ago. If you don’t, here’s a wiki with a how to do them lesson.

Gangnam harbors the Seoul fashionistas among whom I count my daughter-in-law Seoah. She lived and worked in Gangnam. She dresses and lives Gangnam style. An upmarket, brand conscious I can be more beautiful than you lifeway. Seoah walked out of the house this morning to go play golf with my son at an Army golf course on Camp Humphreys. She had on a short green skirt, like a tennis skirt, a white top with Malbon written on it. She carried her new Malbon leather golf bag. A golf diva.

She’s also a caring and thoughtful daughter-in-law, protective of my son, her father-in-law, and Murdoch. A delightful and happy person.

 

The three of us came up from the underground into the bright light of a Gangnam Saturday. We walked a block and were on the grounds of Bongeunsa Temple, founded in 794 during Korea’s three kingdoms period. Seoul and Bongeunsa were then in the Silla Kingdom.

Surrounded by glass and metal high rise apartment complexes and just across the cross walk from the fabled COEX mall Bongeunsa has not given up its peaceful and medieval feel. A large complex of temples, statuary, and monastic housing. Walking on its grounds transported me to a time before even Sejong the Great.

A monk walked into a small side temple and began chanting. His sonorous tones called out the Buddha spirit from tiled roofs, elaborate painted and decorated eves, the courtyards. Filled them with an ancient religiosity. In spite of the healing I mentioned above going uphill and stairs still proves difficult so I sat on the steps of this little temple as my son and Seoah explored. Listening to the monk my former brother-in-law Bob Merritt came back to me. Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo. Something like that. Nichiren Soshu Buddhism.

What came next? COEX mall right across the street. And my first chance to do something art related. KiaF Seoul is underway in the mall’s large exhibition space. KiaF’s second year. This enormous show brings together galleries from Seoul, other cities in Korea, L.A., Paris and around the world focusing on Korean artists.

The purpose? Expose KiaF attendees to the broad range of Korean contemporary art and. Sell art. Galleries had bigger and smaller sized exhibition spaces, some as small as a cubicle, some as spacious as a gallery itself.

When visiting a gallery, the owners and their staff would brighten, ask questions. What do you like about that piece? Um. It’s religious iconography. And it’s fun. Breaking away before the pitch got more traction.

Asia, Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea, Memories, Travel

Learning how to walk. Yet again.

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: That massage therapist and the orthopedist. A flare, can return to exercise. Going to Gangnam tomorrow. See the fabled (in Korea) COEX mall and the Bongeunsa Temple, a 794 A.D. Buddhist Temple from the Silla period. Chef Jang’s fabulous meal last night. Korean Apples. My son’s mission today. Murdoch the happy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Back to exercise Sunday

One brief shining: Chef Jang called my son and me to dinner last night, she stood behind the marble island with the single induction burner our two seats were across from her and platters of Cucumber kimchi, cooked Prawns on a bed of Bean Sprouts, Enoki Mushrooms, Bok Choi Leaves as she placed a bright red pan with a four inch high side on the burner while we began eating  fresh sliced Onions in mirin sauce.

 

A Michelin three star moment at home. The bright red pan held a boiling soup into which we put the Bok Choi, thinly sliced Beef rolls, Chives, and the Enoki Mushrooms. A hotpot style meal. I filled up on Prawns, Bok Choi, Onions, and Bean Sprouts. A few cooked Beef slices, too. After we had another round of the Kaesong little donuts. Delightful.

Seoah learned to cook from her mother, but she’s added her own flair over time. The prep work, as in Chinese cooking too, makes up the bulk of the labor involved. Wish I’d taken a picture of the whole tableau before we dug into it. A beautiful table.

 

Another round of massage yesterday. Boy can that guy bear down. Tight, tight thigh muscles.

Here’s some irony. At age 1 plus some months I had mastered the human transition from all fours to two feet. Walking. Then. Polio. Paralyzed on my left side for over six months. Oops. Needed to learn how to walk again. Painful. Dragging my head on the floor as mom and Aunt Virginia held me up. Rug burns on my forehead. But, I did it. Learned to walk upright in the world a second time.

Flash forward to today. 76 years old, walking for a long time now. Except. Mr. Lee, the massage therapist, said, “I will teach you how to walk healthy.” Oh. OK.

Heel first, then toes. Second toe in a straight line from the body. Move the hips as the feet move. Stomach in, eyes ahead. Something you probably do without thinking about it. My long time with a bad back has given me a bad habit. I drop my left foot and don’t turn my pelvis as I walk. Right, OK. Left, weak. Mr. Lee.

Tuck in the stomach. Shoulders back. Now try to work in that position. All right. I tried. Mr. Lee typed into google translate a long line of Hangul: “You look like a robot. Walk naturally.” Right.

Again. Better. Trying to unlearn a habit of many years and return to the skill I retrieved on the couch in Aunt Virginia and Uncle Riley’s living room over 74  years ago. Important learning for me. Should help me for a long time to come. Including, btw, in Israel.

Aging, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel

A Mountain Flaneur?

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: My son’s leadership style. Gentle and nurturing. Clear. Seoah and the new golf bag. Her treats from Gangnam. Kaesong little donuts among them. A base pass for Osan. The BX. Becoming a Mountain flaneur. The Oriental House at the Osan golf course. Lunch there yesterday with Seoah and my son. Muscle relaxants. Learning to live with spinal stenosis.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The human journey from birth to death

One brief shining: In the base pass office at Osan men and women in desert camo, light tan high top boots, came in and out bearing small insignias saying where they stood in the Air Force hierarchy: a dark oak leaf my son wore-lieutenant colonel, a pair of wings, airman first class, a brown oak leaf-major instant placement in the highly ordered military social structure.

 

Got my base pass as a long term visitor. I can now come and go on Osan Air Base as a scrutinized civilian. Less important here in Songtan since my son and Seoah live off base but it does mean I can come and go when I need to without getting a day pass. No surrendering my driver’s license for the duration of my stay, then returning to the day pass office to retrieve it. Mary had a base pass at Hickam and used it a lot.

Another turn of Korean medicine today. See Doctor then the massage guy. A less intense visit though which should translate to cheaper. No x-ray, less time in the procedure’s area.

 

Random thoughts while figuring out to how live with slow walking as a lifestyle. First one. Here’s the rub about death. We spend our lives discovering and pursuing our passion, engaging life and its many gifts, struggles, then we let go of our passion for life and embrace the quiet moment. That’s a difficult transition to make emotionally. It’s not about fear but about doing the only thing you’ve even known, living, and exchanging it for a permanent experience of the unknown. Not at all like hitting the brakes more like switching from driving to floating.

Becoming a Mountain flaneur.* As I reflected on a literally slower pace to life, the first word that came to mind was flaneur. A very urban image, yes, but one I could adapt to Mountain living. Instead of hiking, strolling or sauntering on a Mountain trail. The flaneur is an observer, a patient and measured walker whose soul purpose lies in witnessing his world.

It may be that my body has declared itself a flaneur by default. If so, I’m fine with that. Not sure how one exercises in this situation, something to learn. Or, how I’m going to explore Korea and Israel. At a more relaxed pace, no doubt.

Though I refuse to let this change define me, I do have to recognize it may be a permanent limitation, one I’ll have to adapt to, rather than cure. My primary identity is not challenged, but my physical expression of my self may well be. Not unlike cancer. Can’t ignore it, can’t obsess about it.

 

 

*”Flâneur is a French noun referring to a person, literally meaning “stroller”, “lounger”, “saunterer”, or “loafer”, but with some nuanced additional meanings. Flânerie is the act of strolling, with all of its accompanying associations…Traditionally depicted as male, a flâneur is an ambivalent figure of urban affluence and modernity, representing the ability to wander detached from society with no other purpose than to be an acute observer of industrialized, contemporary life. ” wiki

Asia, Family, Health, Korea, Travel

Adventures in Medicine

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: That orthopedist in his chair surrounded by computer screens. The kind massage therapist. The weird procedures. A day of Korean medicine. Taxis. Recalibrating. Spines. Traveling like I was 60. When I’m really 76. Seoah. My son. Getting my base pass today. Seeing immigration about my visa. Being in Korea as a resident alien, not a tourist.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: X-rays

One brief shining: Do you speak Korean the doctor asked I said no so he asked do you have any spinal stenosis I don’t think so I said he ordered an x-ray and yes I do massage, muscle relaxants, slow walk, no  exercise time in Korea changed.

 

My buddy Ode sent me off to Korea with a message, have great adventures! He’s a master at finding adventure when he travels. His openness to people and experiences insures it. Oh, the stories he can tell. About almost dying in that capsized boat in the Caribbean. About picking grapes in Provence. About visiting the uber-wealthy Chinese woman in Shanghai with Elizabeth. And many more and those only the ones he’s told me.

Me. Not so much. I find warming up to new people difficult even when I share their language and culture. There’s also a level of good Midwestern caution in my soul that feels protective but is also a bubble against anything too strange or unfamiliar. Not complaining. Describing. I still enjoy travel a lot though. I do have my moments.

Yesterday was one of those moments. My sore hip pushed me past my normal reserve and into a medical system where only a few speak my language and at that not too well.

Taxi over to a main drag here in Songtan. Up to the second floor of a nondescript office building with Seoah. A waiting room with long rows of chairs, a few scattered patients waiting. An orthopedist’s office. A reception desk to the right, the waiting area, then to the left a back room filled with curtained areas, blue and white striped curtains hanging from metal loops around metal piping. I would find out what they held later.

First I checked in. Sort of. Seoah asked me questions for a brief form. Drug allergies. No. Cancer? Yes. She put down bladder cancer because that’s what her dad has. We corrected that later. All the while I’m calculating how much I really need to know about what’s going on. Not much, I concluded right then.

The orthopedist sat at a modest desk with three computer screens around him and a keyboard on the desk. He had, as I’ve noticed in a few other Koreans, pointed teeth that made him look slightly menacing. He asked me a question or two then ordered an x-ray. That happened quickly and soon I was back in his office, looking at my lower spine on the computer screen to his left.

I didn’t need him to tell me where the problem was. Normal disc. Normal disc. Normal disc. Nice gaps between them. Then two with little space and one moved out and to the right of the others on his screen. Oh. That’s not good.

You have spinal stenosis. The medical term for those discs with little space between them. Probably arthritis. They can pinch nerves creating pain in the hip and lower back. Oh. Yeah.

That was all with the orthopedist. Onto the massage therapist. Who was a kind young man who hurt me, over and over again. Most of the time not too badly, but I did say ouch once in a while and he would back off. All in the interest of releasing muscle tension. He communicated with me through Google  translate.

When we finished I thought, we’re done. But no. Now we do shock wave therapy, electrotherapy, and lumbar traction therapy. Not too sure about the first two. They both involved machines I could have imagined in a medical museum. The lumbar traction therapy I recognized. It gently pulled on my body at the lower spine.

The shock wave therapy I couldn’t tell was happening except for the cold sonagram gel my therapist squirted on my back. The electrotherapy consisted of four small cup like devices placed on my back. They crawled around over my lower back while gently heating me. Sort of like a massage chair. However. There were also heating pads underneath my chest. They were hot.

When I left, Seoah and I went to the pharmacy and picked up some muscle relaxants. All the directions in Korean of course. The pills themselves were in small clear paper pouches enough for two daily doses for three days. Five pills per pouch.

Total bill: approximately $200. The doctor and the x-ray were only $35 of that. The rest was massage, procedures, and the meds. Not bad, really. And I’ll get most of it back from insurance

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Korea, Travel, Weather +Climate, World History

Seoul Time

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday gratefuls: Being in Monday, not Sunday. The Fish Market. Daniel. Diane. Seoah. My son. Sejong the Great. Inventor of Hangul. The Korean George Washington. His palace. The cultural and arts district around it. Yongsan, the heart of Seoul. Seoul. My son’s friends. Heat and humidity. Snow in the forecast for Conifer. Jon, may his memory be for a blessing. Kate, whose memory is a blessing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seoul, Korean megalopolis

One brief shining: The fish monger gaffed the sea bream and handed the gaff’s wooden handle to me so I could hold the fish as if I’d caught it instead of bought it, then he gaffed the other, whose name I’ve forgotten and gave it to my son and me to hold together, later in the restaurant above the market these two fish appeared as Korean cut sashimi and a soup made from their heads and the bones.

 

Yesterday we boarded the number 1 blue line at Songtan station and took the hour and forty-five minute ride into Seoul. Called a subway it was light rail on this route. We rode past clusters of apartment buildings, a few single houses, and the now routine rice paddies and thick plastic sheeting covered half moon long garden tents filled with vegetables.

All the way from Songtan the density of the housing remains high, the countryside far away in this populous urban corridor that extends to the south as well toward Daejong. Korea has a population of 51 million plus in an area the size of the state of Indiana. Over one-fifth of those live in Seoul.

Almost done with the novel Soil by Yi Kwang-Su written in 1932. Compared to Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle it focuses on the plight of Korean farmers who made up 80% of the population but lived lives poor, miserable, and short essentially as serfs or tenant farmers for the wealthy who lived in Seoul. The ratio of Seoul’s population to the rest of Korea remains about the same.

Seoul is the cultural and political and economic heart of the country as it has been since the time of Sejong the Great in 1395. On a main thoroughfare which runs past Seoul city hall a bronze seated Sejong looks on modern traffic headed towards his palace grounds. The city hall  has two buildings, one built by the Japanese during their long occupation in the 20th century and the other an uber modern building by Korean architect Yoo Kerl.

The fish market. The Noryagin Fish Market has its own subway stop which was our destination. We came up from the tracks and onto a bright day, young Koreans in blue uniforms playing baseball just outside the subway’s door.

On the inside hawkers of various levels of intensity try to interest you in the various sea creatures on offer. Sea squirts. Sea urchins. Whelks. Mollusks of various kinds. Shrimp. Prawns. Eels. Many, many varieties of Fish. Large aquariums held Squid and Crabs, some trying to wander off.  Though its floor had water on it and the air high humidity the market did not smell fishy to me.

When we sat down to eat in the restaurant on the fifth floor of the market, I looked up and saw: Trump World. A big two tower building across the freeway from where we sat. Diane told me that the area we could see out the window was Korea’s Wall Street, so I suppose Trump Tower fit in as a monument  to financial malfeasance.

Daniel and Diane then took us in their KIA SUV across the Han River into Yongsan, the central downtown of Seoul. Past it we found Sejong the Great’s palace and folklore museum. Unfortunately it was hot, humid, and my hip had begun to get sore so we didn’t stay as long as I might have wanted though I think we stayed longer than anybody else wanted.

Built in 1395 and destroyed in the 19th century (I don’t recall  how), it was rebuilt in 1885 I think. Massive. The architecture of power and status.