Part III: Being Sick in South Korea: Recovery and care at Dankook University Hospital

Visiting hours on Day 2 started at 6:30am. I asked the nurse on duty if Josh's white blood count had gone down - it hadn't. I asked about the swelling of his brain: "It is more swollen" she said. Later in the afternoon, during Professor Kim's visit, I discovered that, once again, details had been lost in translation. The nurse had meant that Josh's brain was more swollen than a normal healthy brain- but, in fact, less swollen than it had been the previous day. 

3 times a day --morning, afternoon, and evening-- an attendant would announce when visiting hours were over and 3 times a day I would disregard the information. Since Josh had a severe aversion to light and sound, he had been put in a private room in the ICU. This meant that I could remain with him, undisturbed by the nurses, until the next visiting hours started. During this 30 minute window, I left to use the washroom and get something to eat and drink. I then returned freely and remained until the next visiting hours. Although this was not the perfect set up, Josh and I were both very thankful that we could be together. We were also very thankful for the compassion with which the ICU nurses treated us. The ICU was very busy and --because I was able to stay with him-- he never needed to wait for food, drink, bathroom assistance, or anything.

I had never spent an extended amount of time in a hospital, let alone unauthorized time in an ICU in a foreign country. Although sneaking around may have been fun under different circumstances, I was plagued by the constant fear of being discovered.

We were very blessed on Wednesday morning when a seemingly random woman came to Josh's room. She informed me that she knew a friend of ours and asked if there was anything she could do to help. I asked her if I could get special permission to come and go out of the ICU as I pleased. This was granted immediately and the ICU guards were given word to let me in and out of the unit regardless of time of day. The constant worry of being told to leave Josh was lifted from my mind. Josh remained in the ICU until Thursday evening - and so did I.

During the ICU days we were showered with love from friends and family. I read to Josh all the encouraging messages that were being sent to us from people from all over the world. There was always someone waiting downstairs at the hospital's coffee shop when I had a free moment to leave. During the nights, I was still keeping and hotel room. My dear friend Lisa acted as a constant support. She stayed with me every night and helped me with everything imaginable.

On Thursday morning, we received the good news that Josh's condition had improved enough that he could be moved to the neurology ward that evening. The timing couldn't have been better because that night Josh's parent's were scheduled to be arriving from Canada. We were surrounded by the support of our friends, family, and the wonderful staff at DKU hospital. Josh continued to grow stronger each day.

My 27th birthday happened to fall during this tumultuous time.

Our friends did not let this day go by without celebration. Despite being in a small hospital room, a birthday party I will never forget took place. I was treated to live birthday music, homemade cake, champagne, gifts, and so much love!

Champagne Birthday at Dankook University Hospital

Happy Birthday serenade

Tears of Joy

  

Friends & Family

SO

MUCH

  

LOVE!!

A healthy Josh: the best gift of all

Although a Korean hospital may not be the most desirable place to spend summer vacation, it was during this time that we were reminded about the value of community, the peace of being able to turn to God in prayer, and the preciousness of life.

Part II: Being Sick in South Korea: A Time of Prayer and Community

If the next part of this story could be defined by one word it would be prayer. Prayer has been a integral part of our lives and it is often during difficult times that people are drawn closer to God in prayer. This was certainly the case for us.

It was impossible for me to comprehend the fact that Josh's condition could be fatal. Exactly one week earlier, I was out walking with my friend Carrie and the topic of death and loss came up. When the idea that one day we might be without our spouses trickled into our conversation we simply stopped talking. It was too painful to even imagine.

When I was told that Josh had bacterial meningitis, I felt a desperate need to get a hold of people and ask for prayer. It was hard for me to have an accurate idea of time – but for what seemed like hours -- I was either kneeling at Josh's bedside praying with all my heart for his recovery or on the phone begging for prayers from everyone and anyone that answered the phone.

After a few failed attempts, I was able to connect with Joanne (Josh's Mother). I knew that despite the fact that it was after 2:00am in Canada she would get family and friends together to pray for Josh. She was able to briefly speak with Josh and exchange “I-love-yous”. At this point I was quite frantic. I remember Joanne saying that Josh was in God's hands and so was I.

The next person I was able to get in touch with from Canada was my dear friend, Nathalie. She has always been a friend on whom I can rely. It meant so much to me that she got on the phone in the middle of the night to let people know what was going on and to convey my request for prayer. The following day I received messages from my other dear friends Holly and Rookie that they had connected with friends and family and asked for more prayers.

It was a normal Monday afternoon for our friends in Hongseong. The first person I was able to get a hold of was my friend Courtney. By this point, our phone had died and I was using May's cellphone. I caught Courtney between classes and, despite seeing an unknown number pop up on her phone, she answered my call. I frantically explained how serious Josh's condition had become and asked her to pray and to get people to pray. It was only later that I found out that she contacted all our friends and posted a message on our town's facebook page asking people to pray for Josh during any spare moment – even between classes!

It was in the frantic time between making calls, getting results, and looking up translations that Professor Kim came on the scene. She was the first medical staff at DKU Hospital that I was able to communicate with in English. She told me that she had never seen a patient with such a high WBC count (white blood cell) in a spinal tap sample (Josh had over 30 000 WBCs in his spinal tap-- a normal amount is between 0-5) She asked him “What is your name?” "How old are you?" "Where are you from?" Despite running a fever, being in severe pain, and having a swollen brain, he was able to answer all of these questions correctly. She said it was a very good sign that he was still conscious let alone coherent. This was the first bit of hope I had been given. “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news”. From that moment on I was in love with Professor Kim  (my family and friends can attest to this fact!):

Isn't she lovely? Isn't she WONDERFUL?

Josh was given his first dose of antibiotic and we were told that we had to wait to see how he would respond to the medicine. That night would be the climax.

May --who remained by my side throughout-- was given a message by one of the nurses. She grabbed by hand and said we must run to book a room for Josh in the ICU. We arrived at the reception desk and put Josh on the waiting list for a bed. The clerk at the reception desk handed us a list of items we would need from the hospital store: tissue, wet-naps, diapers, towels. The difference between Korean hospitals and Canadian hospitals was becoming evermore apparent.

While making our purchases, May received a phone call. Our friends had arrived and they were waiting in the hospital lobby. The first faces I saw were Courtney, Braden, Lisa, and Chris. They had left after school and taken an hour long cab ride to the hospital. It was so comforting to see them and feel their love and support.

Throughout the evening more and more people arrived. By the end of the night it seemed as though all of our friends had come to the hospital. The comfort and support we received was very moving. At one point, while waiting in the lobby, we all held hands and lifted Josh up in prayer. It was during this difficult time that our Hongseong friends became our Hongseong family. Thank-you Courtney, Braden, Lisa, Chris, Mikaela, Bryce, Auroura, Kati, Clare, Yoon, Matt, Carrie, Gloria, and Mr. Gloria for all coming that first day.

I was surrounded by support and love as I waited for visiting hours. When they finally opened, I was very thankful to be with our Korean friend, Dr. Yoon, who helped to not only translate, but assess the situation from a medical point of view.

The ICU nurses were very gracious with us, and we remained long after visiting hours had ended. We found out that an exception had been made earlier for two men from a nearby English church. They had come to visit and pray for the expat who was in critical condition. The love and care we were receiving was overwhelming. It was so hard to leave Josh that night; I could hardly bring myself to move away from his bed. As we were about to leave, a particularly kind nurse gave me a comforting look and spoke to me in Korean- Yoon translated that she said "trust me".

By this time, a second wave of friends had arrived from Hongseong. Before leaving the hospital for the night we ,once again, gathered together to pray for Josh.

With the help of Yoon, we were able to find a nearby hotel where I could spend the night. My friends Carrie and Kati volunteered to stay with me. I was never alone. After arriving at the hotel I was finally able to get into contact with my mother. She had been in the USA for the weekend. Unable to reach her by phone, my sister left work and drove out to our cottage to tell her the news. By the time I reached her she had contacted friends, family, and the church to ask everyone to pray for Josh.

Surrounded by love and covered by prayers, we made it through the worst night.

Part I: Being Sick in South Korea

Life abroad has its share of adventures and eye-opening experiences. You meet exotic people and eat interesting --sometimes delicious-- food. You inevitably learn new ways to say "hello" and "thank-you". Even the mundane day-to-day things in a foreign country have their charm. Sometimes when I am walking to work I stop and catch myself thinking: I am on the opposite side of the world; I am surrounded by people of a different culture and heritage who have mysterious traditions; I can't communicate with most of these people; I am REALLY far away from my Mum...Wow.

This summer we hit our 18 month mark in South Korea. With our summer vacations around the corner we got hit by something completely unexpected. 

On July 19, Josh woke up at 5:00am with a terrible headache. He thought he had a migraine so he took an ibuprofen and tried to go back to sleep. Soon, he was vomiting and we decided it would be best for him to call in sick for work. I sent his co-teacher a message letting her know our situation and she asked if he needed to see a doctor. We thought that was a good idea and within 20 minutes two ambulance workers were knocking at our door. We thought the fact that his co-teacher had called an ambulance for what we assumed to be a stomach flu was quite a severe reaction. Regardless, off we went to the Hongseong hospital. Josh was soon running a fever above 39 °C and vomiting almost non-stop. We arrived at the hospital where we were met by Josh's co-teacher (Alice) and her daughter (May) who acted as our translator. We weren't at the Hongseong hospital long before another ambulance was being called to take us to --the bigger-- Dankook University Hospital in Cheonan (approximately one hour away). Everything was happening fast and everything was happening in Korean. I was thankful to have May with us translating as much as she could. All I knew for sure was the doctor suspected that Josh may have had what google translated to be “meningoencephalitis”. This did not sound good to me.

The ambulance ride to Cheonan was the craziest drive I have ever been on. May sat in the back with Josh to translate for the attendants and I sat in the front passenger seat trying ,unsuccessfully, to call our families back in Canada.

We arrived at Dankook University Hospital in record time. Josh was scheduled to have a CAT-scan immediately. It was at this time that I realized I wasn't going to make it for the opening ceremony of English Summer camp at 3pm. Everything was moving so quickly and Josh's brain was swelling.

The doctors suspected meningitis and ordered a lumbar puncture (spinal tap). It was at this time that the fear really started. I had to sign a Korean waiver that seemed to be in regard to liability in case of any spinal tap issues. Next, Josh was given some medicine to prevent vomiting in order that he could have a lumbar puncture.

While we waited for Josh to become stable enough for the spinal tap, a nurse --holding out a jug and paper cup-- said they needed a urine sample. The paper cup was for the first stream, and the jug was for the second. Hospitals in South Korea function very differently from Canadian ones. What happened next was messy. I will spare my audience the details.

Next, a blood sample was taken. They were nearly certain Josh had meningitis. It was either one of two semi-serious forms of the disease, or a third very dangerous and potentially fatal form.

The neurologist returned with the results. What he communicated in Korean affected the nurses and May in such a way that I knew Josh had the dangerous type of meningitis, bacterial. I started to panic and demand to know what results showed. The neurologist --through an accent--, told me “this condition is fatal”. At times like that, words like “can be” are utterly important.