Seeing a Doctor in Japan

In Japan, you don't make an appointment with a doctor. Instead, you turn up during opening hours and wait. On a good day in a small clinic, the wait may be ten to fifteen minutes. On a not so good one, it can be hours.

Today, I went to see a specialist in Tokyo. While it was only a 15 minute consultation, it became a three day trip. There was a particular doctor I really wanted to see. The hospital where she works opens at six am. The doctors don't start seeing patients at six am, that happens at nine. At six am, the line up begins. A bit like camping out for a new iphone or concert tickets.

Being too early in the morning to leave from Nagoya on the day, I came to Tokyo a day early. Not wanting to check out of the hotel in the early hours of the morning, I stayed an extra night. That's how one short doctor's visit became a three day trip.

As I was already here yesterday, I did a trial run at the hospital. I made sure I knew exactly where it was, how to get there and what to do once I was there in the morning. For about ten minutes due to a small language misunderstanding on my part, I was told that I couldn't come when I had planned. I tried really hard to hold back tears until it was sorted out. At the trial run, I was told that I could wait until eight am to come, but luckily I went at seven instead, as I got ahead on the queue. By the time the doctors began at nine, the ticket machine counted over 120 patients.

With that many patients, their system really does need to be highly organised, to the point that you feel like you're on a conveyor belt. The process today was this;

• Got a patient number from the ticket machine.
• Lined up to get a new patients forms.
• Filled in the forms and handed them in.
• Waited in a big waiting room to be given my hospital card.
• Got my hospital card and was sent to the second floor.
• Waited in a another big waiting room until my number was called.
• Waited in a smaller waiting room until my number was called again.
• Saw the doctor for about 15 minutes, which by Japanese standards is very generous.
• Was sent back to wait in the big waiting room.
• Was shown to another small waiting room.
• Had another quick test.
• Went to a different big waiting room until my number came up on the board.
• When my number came up, paid at an automatic payment machine, much like one you'd find at a car park.
• Went back to the big waiting room for my number to flash on another screen.
• When my number came up again, went to a window where I was given my prescription.

Was in at seven, out by ten. Had a lovely understanding doctor who was most helpful. Not too bad.

Why I'm not a member of the Japanese doctor's fan club

I've been feeling a bit unwell for quite a while now. For much of that time, I've found excuses as to why I was feeling that way, and so didn't do anything about it. Recently, I ran out of excuses and decided it was time to get to the bottom of what was causing me to feel ill for so long.

I'm not a fan of doctors at the best of times, and especially haven't had good experiences with Japanese medical professionals. One yelled at me when I asked a question (something you DO NOT do here, dare to question the doctor) and had a dentist tell me I had cancer, even though he knew well that I didn't have cancer, but he thought it was a good analogy.

I could no longer put it off, and so visited a doctor that we were pleased with when hubby got sick a year or so ago.

The conversation went a bit like this (in Japanese - doctor, and broken Japanese - me)

Doc: "What's wrong."

Me: "I've been really tired for about six months."

Doctor laughs.

Me: "No, seriously. I'm exhausted. I'm struggling to stay awake at work and then I often go home and have to go straight to bed. On the weekends I often can't do anything because I'm too tired."

Doc: "Everyone's tired. That's not a problem. Is there anything else?"

Me (shocked and upset): "Well yeh, for the same length of time, I've been getting these really bad stomachaches."

Doctor has me lie down and pokes my stomach a few times while I cry out in pain.

Doc: "Yes, you do have a stomachache. Maybe you have an ulcer. I've give you medicine for an ulcer."

Me (not feeling so confident in his abilities by this stage): "Well, I've also had reflux and heartburn."

Doc: "Heartburn, that's caused by the oesophagus, I'll give you medicine for that too."

The consultation goes like this for a while. Most symptoms the doctor ignores. I was gradually getting more and more frustrated as he treated me like a stupid hypochondriac. I was going to him because of a bunch of symptoms that had all been happening for about the same length of time and were all getting worse together. I suspect that something is causing them all, possibly a food allergy issue or a bug that I picked up in Vietnam last year. I was hoping to get answers and not a bunch of drugs to mask separate symptoms.

Me: "I've also been really lightheaded and dizzy. I've nearly fallen in class a few times."

Doc: "Dizziness. That's caused by the ear. I'll give you some medicine for your ears."

I have to say, he never even looked at my ears.

Me: "Well, I'd really prefer not to take medicines unless they're really necessary."

Doc (rolling his eyes at me): "Well you want to feel better don't you?"

There was no point during the whole consultation that he tried to connect a single dot to another. He just told me that things were wrong in all parts of my body and insisted upon different drugs for each. He never asked for more information and never asked about my personal or family medical history.

During the visit I insisted that I wanted to be tested for gluten intolerance. My mother is coeliac, a genetic condition that shares many of my symptoms. The doctor wasn't happy about it, and didn't even know what the condition was. He figured though, that it was a way of getting rid of the stupid foreigner.

Monday was the day I needed to go in for the blood test. I did something a little naughty. I pretended that my Australian doctor had written me a note asking me to be tested for the Vietnam bugs and to have my iron checked as well. I had my Japanese boss translate it before the appointment. The Japanese doctor was not happy at all, but luckily still did them. Once I get the tests back next week, I think it's time I find a new doctor.

Drugged up

Yesterday I discovered a way of getting to see a doctor without having to wait. Be a stupid gaijin!

You see, what started out as a little cold on Sunday, has worsened day-by-day until I could take it no more yesterday. I told Wayne I would go and see a doctor. He knew I was really sick then, I never see doctors over here. I had too many bad experiences my first time living here that it has scared me off. I even had one medical professional tell me I had cancer (in his defence, he never thought I had cancer, but didn't know the English word for cyst but did know the word "cancer", so just told me I had something like cancer, that it grew like cancer, that they had to cut it out like cancer... - all I was hearing was cancer... cancer... cancer). Wayne and I have only really had to deal with doctors once since we've been here together and other than him being told that he was "diseased in the head" the doctors were great.

Wayne talked to his supervisor and got off work early to take me to a doctor. We first went to our local clinic which on a quick glance was closed until 5pm. Wayne then decided to take me to the hospital. Once we got there, I chickened out. Going to a local clinic was one thing, but having to fill in all the forms and work out where to go when I was feeling like death was another. I told Wayne we'd wait the two hours until the clinic opened.

Wayne wanted to get there just before 5 in the hope that the wait wouldn't be too long. Another think I hate about going to the doctor, is waiting rooms. The last thing I want to do when I'm sick is sit and wait in a room full of people with germs. I'm sick, I don't need more germs around me. I'm sick, I want to be lying down in my own comfortable bed, not sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours. Of course we have waiting rooms back in Australia, but we also have appointments, so hopefully, the wait isn't too long. In Japan, there are no appointments for doctors, you just turn up during the opening hours and sit and wait.

Mmm.. yes... turn up during opening hours... that would help....

We got to the clinic just before 5 and surprisingly the clinic's car park was empty. I was a bit suspicious then, but too sick to really care. Then one guy (how by the way turned out to be a cleaner), who didn't look sick at all, walked in the surgery door. "OK" we thought, he's Japanese, he knows what he's doing, we'll just follow him (I operate on the Dirk Gently navigation technique in Japan). When we entered the foyer, the doctor came out of his office looking very surprised and asked me what was wrong. With my head heavy with all the germs I was confused as to why the doctor would be greeting his patients at the door and in a pathetic voice simply replied "I have a bad cold".

He quickly ushered Wayne and myself upstairs where the reception was dark and there was an obvious lack of nurses and patients. Kindly, he looked at my throat, listened to my chest, asked about allergies and then ran off to his pharmacy in the building next door. Following him, Wayne and I read the sign on the door and realised that he was in actual fact closed on Thursday afternoons. Closed, but still kind enough to see the lost and confused gaijin.

Another reason I usually resist seeing doctors in this country is the amount of medicines they prescribe - lots of them! I was given, all in little white paper bags with a cute cartoon character in the bottom corner; antibiotics, something for my stomach to stop the antibiotics from making me sick, an anti-inflamitary painkiller, some tablets for my throat, some gargle for my throat and some cough medicine. All little blister packs in paper bags with the number of times a day I am to take them. No side-effect information, nothing. Just cute little paper bags. But right now, I don't care - give me drugs and lots of them!

I did, but the way, get through the interview tests, but not easily, not comfortably. I interviewed 61 students for about 2 minutes each. My voice lasted for the first one and a half interviews. After that, it was a raspy yell to try to get anything out. To make things worse, over the noise of the old air conditioner and the construction happening outside, the students couldn't hear what I said, so I'd have to repeat it a number of times. With each syllable I uttered it felt like a cheese grater was being scraped across my throat. As the interviews wore on, salt and lime was following each cheese grating motion. With each interview, I averaged about 100 syllables... 100 syllables multiplied by 61 students makes a hell of a lot of cheese grating. Once I got home that night, I almost cried with each question Wayne asked me.

Luckily, the students now have tests, so I have a few days off from school. It's so frustrating though being sick on days off. I had been so excited about having a day off coincide with my favourite flea market, but instead, I had to spend the day in bed, my body would punish me with shooting pains in the head and I'd be bent over coughing if I tried to move. I'm now drugged up, taking a OTC cold medicine on top of all the other prescriptions, but that only lasts for about an hour at a time, I then have to wait a few hours until I can take the next one. Actually, the effect is wearing off now.. so I'm off to bed until it's time for the next dose.