I blame Korea...

for this freak strain of cold that I have. I don't remember ever being this sick for this long and not being in the hospital.

It started on Tuesday night with a fever. I felt better Wednesday so I went to work, which was a mistake because I almost died as did a number of my students. I had a fever all day and all night of what I'm sure was 110F or so but I can be sure since I didn't have a thermometer.

I called in sick on Thursday and went to the doctor. I was convinced he was going to diagnose me with some freak strain of the flu, (perhaps the avian variety), since it couldn't possibly be the normal one because I had been vaccinated against it back in October. But alas no, he called it a cold and sent me on my way. I had my prescription filled for some over the counter Tylenol, and something for the cough and runny nose. So keep in mind it is now Thursday. I haven't eaten since Tuesday afternoon and I just recently found that I could drink water if it was allowed to warm up after sitting on my floor for a while. The remainder of Thursday is spent in bed.

On Friday I went to work because I used up my last sick day and because we have a field trip to the natural history museum and I wanted to see some dinosaurs. The day passed without major event and I don't feel too terribly although I do my best to look it. My eyes are dark and sunken, my skin pale and clammy and my hair, well...you know. All of my Korean co-workers tell me how terrible I looked all day, how sick and how tired I must feel. Despite their concern, not a one of them offers me any relief by covering one of my nine classes that day. Just as I leave the building that, by now familiar feeling of coldness creeps into my bones indicating the onset of yet another fever. So I cancelled my trip to the DMZ the following morning and sent for a thermometer. 101.8 F, not life threatening but a fever nonetheless. Friday night was record breaking bad. I couldn't sleep. At first it was because I'd slept too much after work so I was bored and there was nothing on t.v. I would lay down and close my eyes and drift off only to wake up, check the clock and realize it was only twenty minutes later. Later that early morning I started to notice pain in both of my ears. I managed to go back to sleep only to wake up about an hour later with a crushing pressure on both sides of my head that I thought for sure would end me. After writhing in pain for a few hours I did two of the next logical things. The first being that I conducted online research to corroborate my notions that I had a double ear infection. Sure enough, all of the articles basically said the same things. Ear pain often indicated an ear infection and was even more likely if the person also has a cold. It being 6:00am at this point I did the next most logical thing, which was to try to call my mommy seeing as it was 11:00pm in Germany. I picked up my calling card and dialed the number just to find out that I had no money left on the card. That's about the time when the whimpering began.

I was trying to wait until 9:00am to call my boss to ask her if the doctor's office would be open on Saturday, which it was. So I dragged my half-beaten body to the bus stop and headed into town. I told the doctor that I was still having fevers and that now my ears were in excruciating pain and I couldn't sleep. "Mmmhmmm" he said and picked up that ear-looking-in device. I winced in anticipation, he stuck it in, wiggled it around said "looks good". Looks good!! You have got to be joking. You mean to tell me that you don't see a full-scale bacterial uprising in there?!

I wanted to quote my Internet findings to him but instead he quoted the New England Journal of Medicine to me. He said that studies had shown that it is occasionally acceptable to use antibiotics in cold cases where the patients are asthmatic, as I am. Great! I said, will that make this pain go away? He gave me a prescription for what I guess were antibiotics and some over the counter Motrin. Interestingly enough he also gave me a shot...in the butt. I don't know what the shot was. I don't know if it did anything. But something about getting a shot when you go to the doctor makes you feel like something is being done to get you better.

I continued to whimper while waiting for my prescriptions. I whimpered while riding the bus. I whimpered walking up to my apartment. I whimpered wiggling my way back into bed. I lay there for a little bit and then all of a sudden, slowly at first, I heard a pop in my right ear. One pop, two pops, three pops stop. Then there was the sound of air entering, or air escaping from somewhere in my head. With each little noise that my ear made the pain resided just a little bit until I fell asleep. I didn't know if it was the shot, the meds, or if it was simply the right time but I was feeling better and I started to smile. That was until I saw that pesky stain on my pillow case. What is that? These are clean sheets!

For the rest of the night my ears started plugging and unplugging as though I were riding a tour bus through the alps. This morning, Sunday, I awoke with more ear pain on both sides. Knowing that it was pressure in my ears and not an infection I plugged my nose and blew. I heard a whine and a pop and I immediately felt the fluid start to drain from my both my ears, but more so from my right one directly onto my pillow to join it's mate from the previous day. The right ear plugged up again almost immediately. It's kind of painful to unplug it so I've been walking around with my head cocked to the right, like a dog when you ask it a question it doesn't recognize. Back to the computer I went for further information on this new symptom. I read that it is most likely due to a chronic inner or middle ear infection or as a result of a ruptured ear drum. I also read an article about a woman who had a cold five years ago and ever since then she has constant popping of her ears and they drain fluids.

I'm traveling to Osaka, Japan this coming weekend and I know that if this ear thing isn't fixed by then the flight will be excruciating but I don't want to go to the doctor again because I don't know if he's really helping. Dear Abby, I want to see an ENT. I want to be back in the land where I can peruse aisles and aisles of non-prescription medicines of every brand and variety imaginable. I want to be able to go to a store where I can pick up a bottle of NyQuil, Ibuprofen, some sleep aids, a Cosmopolitan, a box of Kleenex, a tray of cookies and some Wrigley's Polar Ice gum and be on my way with no language barrier problems, questioning looks of concern, or multi-stop shopping.

Today, I want to go home.

Gender Relations

I went to the park to shoot some hoops by myself today after work. After about twenty minutes I saw a guy sidling his way up to my end of the park. I passed him the ball since it was clear he wanted to play. We tossed it around a little bit with some banal small talk about favorite sports, occupations and whatnot. He asked if I wanted to go play soccer up at the elementary school and I said "heck, why not?" I called the girls to have them come meet us, so as to quell the awkwardness a bit. Before they got there we managed to school some schoolboys in a quick little game. The little boys were as astounded to see me as they always are, and there was nothing too weird about it. They were really surprised however when they found out that I can actually play a little bit.
A little bit later the girls got there and we decided to take some shots on goal. The Korean guy didn't let us go in goal. He insisted that he be in goal the whole time and I'm assuming it was because he didn't want us to get hurt. Needless to say, we missed the goal more than a couple of times and he was adament about being the one to chase after the ball every time. The whole experience was so different from the many times I've played soccer with my guy friends in the States. Ball shagging is a dreaded task and one that needs to be shared equally by everyone. The same goes for mandatory goal keeper. Everybody prefers to kick the ball rather than be the target within the goal but the position is rotated amongst all players so that everyone has an equal opportunity to shoot on goal. That's the thing about playing sports where I come from, equality.
After a while, I asked the guy if he wanted to stop, seeing as he must be tired by now, to which he replied "no, no it's very exciting. I've never played soccer with women before." I was shocked by this but not wholly surprised. I mean I've seen how Korean women behave and what they wear and what they do. Of course they would never put on their kicks and grubbies and play some ball, they rarely take off their heels. I simply could not imagine how different I would be if I hadn't played sports my whole life and it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I didn't play with boys most of the time.
So there are obviously olympic teams made up of Korean women. Where are all of those women hiding and in what way were they raised that was any different from the average Korean woman? Do Korean women not play sports because it's viewed as unfeminine or because they aren't good at them? How would they know if they're not good at them? Are women given opportunities when they're younger to try different sports? If women felt repressed by their inaccessibily to sports, or to other male dominated past-times, surely they would rise up and make a move to be more included. But, do they feel that way?
There was one little girl on the playground while we were playing the soccer game with the schoolboys. She must have been someone's sister because she was so young. All she did was stand in my team's goal and would run clear across the playground when the ball, followed by a stampede of boys, came towards her.
After soccer the girls, the guy and I went to the local chicken place for some beers and eats. Good times for sure but I'm left with this weird misunderstanding of gender relations. I've studied Western gender relations and it's all about equality and the rising status of women. What's the deal here? Are they behind the times? Are they yet to have their feminist revolution or is that even what they want?

Ahaa!!!!!!

Taken from a vitamin supplements website called Zest for Life

Vitamin B2-Riboflavin

"A shortage of this vitamin may manifest itself as cracks and sores at the corners of the mouth, eye disorders, inflammation of the mouth and tongue, and skin lesions."

And, must be dealt with IMMEDIATELY before it results in...

"Dermatitis, dizziness, hair loss, insomnia, light sensitivity, poor digestion, retarded growth, and slow mental responses have also been reported. Burning feet can also be indicative of a shortage."

This is all totally logical seeing as the main food sources of riboflavin are...

"Organ meats, nuts, cheese, eggs, milk and lean meat are great sources of riboflavin, but is also available in good quantities in green leafy vegetables, fish, legumes, whole grains, and yogurt."

All of which are foods that I haven't been eating since I've been here. In fact unless it comes in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bowl of bibimbap, dongas, kimchi, or the little triangle seaweed wraps from the corner store, then I don't eat it.

Somebody get me some riboflavin STAT! I walked around all day trying not to laugh or smile. I am having trouble eating and brushing my teeth because the fork and my toothbrush are too big to get through the small opening I am able to make in my mouth.

Shit, after reading this website I totally feel like my tongue is swollen and I'm beginning to consider that what I thought was a zit might actually be a lesion. If I start losing my hair or have slow mental responses I'm out of here.

My Addiction

The first of the twelve steps is admission and that is what I am trying to do. I admitted it first to my coworkers and closest friends and now I will admit it to you, my readers. Despite the number of warning signs, the noticeably concerned remarks from family members, and a twinge of knowledge of the problem deep within my subconscious, I was able to put off the acceptance of it for quite some time. This long-term repression of my problem has done nothing but make it even more difficult for me to come clean.
My name is Megan and I am a chapstickoholic. Phew! You have no idea how relieving yet frightening this admission is for me. I have been using multiple times a day, everyday for at least four years. I smear the stuff all over my lips before and after brushing my teeth, eating, talking for a period of time, teaching a class and just about every hour in between. My "rock-bottom" moment came when I was sitting in a restaurant with some friends and just held the chapstick in my hand the entire time. I didn't once put it away because if I did I would immediately need it again.
Because of my addiction my lips no longer produce their own moisture and I am entirely dependent on chapstick. Unfortunately the chapstick has started working against me and seems to be zapping my lips of moisture rather than actually supplying them with it. I have developed incurable cracks at the corners of my mouth and the skin on my lips has become so taut that smiling is uncomfortable.
I have made a number of attempts at quitting cold turkey but to no avail. After the first day of going without chapstick my lips became so uncomfortably tight that I had difficulty eating my peanut butter and jelly crackers. A real low point came when Jennifer scolded me after she noticed that instead of weaning myself off of the chapstick I just switched to another brand thinking that it would solve my problems. Rather than a solution, this was clearly a cry for help.
Now that I have admitted my problem I will try to take steps towards recovery. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly sure of what those steps are. I need a support group, but apparently there aren't too many people with this addiction. I suppose it is important to remember to take my recovery one day at a time.

The Mobius Strip

A continuous plane. A one-sided surface. A mathematical property of being non-orientable, (whatever that means). When cut lengthwise down the center a Mobius strip does not become two separate mobius strips, it becomes two intertwined half-twisted pieces of paper. The mobius strip, a fascinating mathematical element covered in some geometry course that I never took and had I done so would have failed. Interestingly enough, also the subject of a lesson meant for five different classes of seven year olds to be lead by none other than yours truly, the self-professed mathematical half-wit.
Not only did I have to research this lesson meant for 7 year olds prior to giving it but I also had to consider how in the HELL I was meant to convey it to a bunch of beginning English speakers. The lesson was a part of the series that I teach as a special lesson to every class in our school. Each foreign teacher has a special that they teach. There's science, big book and Orda, which is what I teach. Orda is a series that covers a variety of different subjects with three different levels. The highest level, level three, is meant for the seven year olds, the oldest students that attend the morning kindergarten classes. I decided that the best way for them to understand the lesson was if everybody watched as I made a ring out of paper and then made a Mobius strip out of paper before they all made their own Mobius strips and we discussed the differences. Naturally, because of my outstanding teaching skills, the children were all fascinated by their models and they had an enormously fun time making them. Oh, hang on, that must have been the lesson where the students had to watch cartoons and eat cotton candy and weren't expected to speak in English! From the moment I wrote the words Mobius Strip on the board the kids were bored, confused and utterly disinterested.
I certainly didn't know what a Mobius strip was before I looked it up on wikipedia.com so there's no way that these kids should be expected to learn it at such a young age, not to mention in a different language. I tried it with two different classes and made the executive to decision to scrap it from the curriculum. I'm sure it's too little too late though. I'd bet anything that the two classes that took their sorry Mobius strips home with them have already nicknamed me teacher Snoozefest.