What's Up Doc?

* warning, this might make those with weak stomaches a little queasy so read with caution*

A few weeks ago during a "meeting" one of our supervisors said that we would all have to have another round of health checks. Raised eyebrows waved through the teachers. "Does it matter that I had mine two months ago?" No it did not.

Many things that happen in the workplace here in Korea have rarely been met with as much skepticism and reticence than this mysterious health check. What, pray tell, are they checking for? Swine flu? Herpes? Questions regarding this medical visit were met with vague responses. The only information given to us was that we wouldn't have to pay for anything, our blood would be taken, we weren't allowed to eat anything after 8 am, and there would be a van that would come to the school.

Yesterday during lunch the van pulled up and the teachers all piled into an elevator to take us down to who knows what. A line of employees led to a small white van (no bigger than the yellow school vans that transport our students) with white coats spilling out carrying scales, coolers, and other medical paraphanalia. "That's where they're going to put our kidneys!" Mindy pointed to the red and white coolers being carted up to the 5th floor. The foreign teachers all let out awkward and uncomfortable chuckles. Little did we know that for the next 90 minutes we would continue standing in line, trying to assuage our uneasiness with humor.

Outside, they took our chest x-rays in the van, apparently checking for tuberculosis. The van door remains open and you walk up to it while the technician tells you in Korean to step up to the xray and stay still. As I made my way out of the van doors I pretend to collapse and clutch my heart while exclaiming, "It hurts! It hurts!" No one finds this funny besides Stephanie and Mindy.

Cut to the 5th floor. No classes going on but the hallway is crowded with Korean teachers from Appletree (the preschool downstairs), bus drivers, and the foreign teachers lined up holding dixie cups filled with pee. I can say that there have been a few times in my life where I have truly felt. Weird. And standing in front of a bunch of accquaintenances holding cups of their urine has to be up there in the Top 3. Mindy, Stephanie, and I refused to stand there with our pee until the absolute last minute. Some female teachers were a little discreet and placed a paper towel on the top while others let it all hang out. Ahem.

As we drew closer to the front we could peer into the classroom turned examination room and could see multiple stations resembling the same tests we had for our first health check arriving in Korea.

I stepped up to the first station. Weight and pee check. The doctor spoke English but only the funny kind. He asked me to get on the scale and as I tried to make my posture give me an extra inch, the height measurer bopped me on top of the head. "Ouch!' He laughed as I sat back down and said, "Ooooh, I take 2 kilo off for your clothes. Ok? You look." He pointed to the electronic number that was my weight (yay! I can't convert kilos into pounds so I don't know if the number was good or bad). "2 kilos. Ok?" he grinned at me. I said, "Sure." "2 kilos. I take off. Your clothes 2 kilos." "Yeah I got that." "Yes! I take off because I'm so nice." I look at him. We stare at each other and then I realize my reaction and then playfully say, "Yes!! Yes! So good! Woo hoo!!"

This elation allows him to move along and stick a pH test strip into my cup. I thought back to those 2 cups of coffee I had downed after 8 am to spite the powers that be and hoped it didn't throw anything off. We (me, the Doc, and the people standing in line behind me) watched as he placed the strip over the cup and watched it change color. "Gee, you know I'm really leaning towards the coral for the master bedroom but this sunflower yellow just would really brighten up the room, you know?" Nothin! What a tough crowd. He waves me over to the classroom and I go grab an eye cover from the Korean optometrist. I sit down and go through the numbers, letters, and then go to the lady sitting holding the headphones.

"Hey! Let's trade iPods!" She smiles and flips switches as I raise my right hand, then left, and then for the hell of it I wave em both in the air like I just don't care! I get a giggle out of her. Me= 1 Docs= 1. Then she hands me a syringe and points to the sadist at the next table with about 15 vials of blood. I hate needles. My fear has subsided substantially but shots still suck. Since I had to get my blood taken regularly back in Texas I braced myself. I offered my right arm, rolled up my sleeve, and then did the Plano Clap (for those that don't know, Plano used to be the heroin capital of the world or something). But I did it and looked at the guy while saying, "like this, ok? tap tap tap!" and he smiled, nodded, and said, "tap tap tap."

"No, don't say it. Do it!"
"Tap, tap, tap. Ok." After a couple seconds of psyching myself up he says, "No good, other arm."
"What?? Aw man!" So I offer my left arm and told him, "Find a big one, buddy." Truthfully it wasn't that bad, I think Stephanie didn't fare as well.

I walked out, promptly went down to the Family Mart, and bought myself a coke and a hotdog. I was starving... So I'm hoping I don't hear anything concerning results from the health check. No news is good news, right?