The sound of death, its not that nice!

The sound of death, its not that nice

What’s that sound? Its like popcorn popping. Oh wait, that’s the sound inside my spine. No one else can hear it? That can’t be good.

Pop pop went my neck. Wonderful!

Oh the joy of pain.

Incase you haven’t read previous blogposts of mine, I don’t enjoy pain, and yet pain seems to follow me like an angel sitting on my shoulder. Only the opposite. A devil poking me with his 3 pronged poker. And razor blades attached to the ends.

The devil poking me in the neck, or actually spine.

So here is the story of the time I broke my neck, sorta.

I had been attending Judo quite regularly. 

If you aren't sure what that is short version is, its throws, sweeps, chokes, holds, strangulation and armlocks. There are no kicks or punches despite Austin Powers and his "JUDO CHOP!".

I mentioned I was going regularly. While I’d like to say I was getting good, that’s not quite true. I was getting good at armlocks and chokes. Possible due to some influence from my Brazilian friends who did Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ). My throws were terrible. They probably wondered why I was learning about as fast as a rock.

Well there was one teacher and he really didn't like gaijin (foreigners). I could tell this by the way he looked at me. I always felt like if he saw me in the alley he’d hit me on the head with a crowbar if he could. I always tried to rush out either before or after him, in hopes he didn't bring a crowbar behind me. I'd usually bike away at low speeds on my granny bike (up to 1km/ hour).

In his Japanese way, he liked to pretend to be nice to me (with a smile no less), but I felt deep down it was all "for show".

One night I caught him in a choke. He submitted. I've never seen him submit before. He got mad and the look on his face suddenly changed. No more Mr. Niceguy (or fake nice guy). He started getting really aggressive with me. Sadly for me, I'm kind of wimpy (as in bones and no muscles), so it doesn't take much to crunch me like a peanut. And a peanut I became.

There are legal / illegal and inbetween moves in Judo. I think the move he did on me was more illegal with borderline half legal written all over it.

I tried to armlock him while I was on my back, he pushed my legs towards my neck and grabbed my hands underneath my back. I couldn't breath since I was crunched,  I couldn't make a sound as my lungs were deflated like a whoopie cushion. I couldn't tap with my hands, couldn't tap with my feet, and realized my neck was starting to spin like I was an owl. I felt like those ghosts in movies who can turn their heads all the way around, only mine wasn't supposed to due to me still being alive.
But that was OK cause I was about to die and then it would be normal.

He applied more pressure to my legs which were now against my shoulders pinning me. My neck was twisting and slowly bending the wrong way.
Since I wasn't breathing the good news was I was seeing colours. My neck was being bent and I couldn't use any neck muscle to prevent it from snapping. I felt the muscles tear (a wonderful feeling I might add, NOT!!).
I realized I was about to die and quite a painful way to go. If only I had a few more seconds before everything went black and also before my head popped off (almost like a Jack in the deathbox).
I heard some crunching like someone stepped on twigs. Maybe I was being sacrificed to the Judo Gods.
Then, I realized it was my neck.
The Judo teacher stopped and asked if I was OK. I realized I was still able to move but it felt like I was in a trance. No not good I said.
I rolled off the mats, at least I could still move.
The bad news was my trance was ending and the pain rushed in. If I was in Canada I would have called 911 but I was in Japan so I forgot the emergency number.
I biked home with my head and neck ringing and crunching.
Every time I moved I felt like someone was holding my head down and something was snapping within my spine.

For the only time in my life I wished I were an owl. I might live with my neck like that.

I did something stupid the next day.
I rode my scooter to school. If I was smart I would have taken my bicycle but I was late and in pain.
I got on my scooter and put my super heavy motorcycle helmet on. I felt like my spine was being compressed like the pressure of the bottom of the ocean in 10,000 leagues under the sea (never saw it, but I did see League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which was not as bad as the reviews said).

The helmet was heavy on my neck already without it being broken. 

I got to work and realized I was having problems keeping my head off my desk.
I went to the Doctor and told them my neck hurt and explained the injury.
They told me I had broken my neck. They strapped me down to a bed.
I said "Listen I rode here on a scooter and I wore a motorcycle helmet, my neck can't be broken".
The Doctor checked my neck and said he can't detect broken bones but I need an MRI to check for smaller cracks or cartilage damage.
In the meantime he said he explained in the worst case scenario its a small bone. 
If its cartilage, in theory it should heal.
It didn't.
MRI showed some tissue damage C4-C5 but no broken bones.

My neck hurts still 6 years later, I feel like I have the neck of a 90 year old with severe arthritis.
I even asked Santa once for a new neck, but sadly I didn't get one.


On the plus side I don't take painkillers anymore.
On the negative side I don't feel "high" from the painkillers anymore.

On the plus side I didn't die.
On the negative side, I wanted to die from the pain many times.


HA!


Other funny stories from this blog 
http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel (makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva

Broken Bones, Broken Homes

From Broken Bones, to Broken Homes

Its not that bad, I should be OK to fight.

I think the title makes it sound like some sort of abuse. I guess in some ways it was.
As I mentioned in previous posts I had a teacher at my school that weighed over 150kgs, which is over 300 pounds. He was a big boy!
He told me to come to his club in Omihachiman, so I did. He was like the marshmallow man only scarier. And I couldn't eat him (technically).

The Evil Marshmallow man. I think if I saw him I'd just eat his legs.

When I was a kid in high school my Judo teacher used to say “Unless you fight the best you can’t become the best”. Good analogy I thought, except when it almost kills you.
You would think that if someone is so much better than you, they have a lot of control and so can prevent someone else from getting hurt.
The large Judo guy I mentioned above was a bit of racist. He liked to mumble “Damn Gaijin!” a lot. He seemed to not enjoy foreigners that much. He enjoyed throwing me on the mats and telling me I was a wimp (which is true). If he thought that would make me go harder, he thought wrong. It didn't turn me into an angry frenzy to fight back. It made me become tired and less aggressive because I knew it was true. Alas, with my 125 lbs frame and zero muscle I was The WEAKEST LINK. I'd vote myself out of the tribe if I was on Survivor.
There was one massive guy at the club who was bigger than this guy, so I guesstimate his weight to be about 340 lbs. They say that in Judo, regardless of size anyone can win, if you are good enough. My issue. That’s simple. I wasn't good enough.
He asked to go with me, and I thought of the motto go against the best so I said OK. He was so big I couldn't move him. He tried to throw me and I blocked. Then he used his weight to force me into the ground but since he was using his weight he landed on me since I was resisting. Crap!
I couldn't breathe at all. Felt like someone, in this case a two ton marshmallow man, had just crushed my lungs. My diaphragm failed to inflate again. My Judo teacher who was the only big guy started yelling at me “Get up wimp! Damn gaijin! All weak”. I tried to get up but something didn't feel right. He grabbed me by the scruff of my judogi (Judo outfit) and pulled me to the side of the mat like I was a rag-doll. I rolled to my side but couldn't get up, I figured I must have torn a muscle. Slowly I got up, the big monster Judo guy, said one more round. Again he threw me the same way and landed on me. I thought he must hate me, since normally in practice you don’t land on people, especially since there was over 160 lbs weight difference. He must have known he was hurting me. Ah, the joy of racism and beatdowns.
I continued the rest of practice being thrown by various people. Everytime I got thrown I felt like my wind was getting knocked out of me (and perhaps my brain cells as well). When I got home, I decided to ice the area to heal the torn muscle. Didn't seem to help. Every time I laughed, moved or lifted, I felt sharp pain.
Three weeks of pain went by and I continued going to Judo. I figured a torn muscle should have healed by now (if I had stopped Judo maybe it would I also thought), being thrown repeatedly wasn't good for it. I thought I saw a protrusion from my skin a few times, and it felt hard. After many people suggested I go get it checked out, I finally did.
I went to the nearest hospital. I told them I had hurt my side, maybe muscle in Judo. She asked when. I said three weeks ago. And she asked “It hurts still?”. Hell yes it does.
After waiting two hours I was put in a room with two young male doctors. I wondered if they were interns. “I wish Tanaka sensei was here. He speaks English”, they kept repeating to each other.
Ummm, hello I speak Japanese, not perfect, but enough to communicate.
“Umm, Hi Doc, my rib hurts, maybe muscle”, I said. “I wish Doctor Tanaka was here, he speaks English”, they answered. Ummm is he going to repeat this forever I thought.
He felt my rib and said we need to take an X-ray. “It seem your ribs are broken and maybe your brain too”. No, that second part isn't true (at least not he couldn't tell by the X-ray about my brain). He shows me the X-ray, and tells me my rib broke in the middle. Uhh, that didn't sound good. He told me that it was split like a wishbone in half and poking out. He even drew me a picture. If only Dr.Tanaka was here could explain it to me better he said. Haha, repeating jokes, I like. I'm very simple.
“Well not much we can do. Broken ribs tend to heal themselves. You must have been in a lot of pain for three weeks. I can wrap them but it won’t really do anything after three weeks”.
I half ass thanked him and headed home (I should have told him Dr.Tanaka would have fixed it if he was there).
I decided against doing Judo where I might get thrown for a month. I did however continue to do groundwork where my friends would use their knees into my stomach and broken rib. It never seemed to heal. I guess that’s why.
After six years it still hurts. My mom told me its phantom pain, that I'm just making it up. I'm not sure for what purpose I’d make up pain. I'd rather not have it. I tried yoga-ing it out to no results.
I haven’t been doing Judo recently due to my six year old broken ribs and broken neck.
Broken neck story to come later.
I tried to go to a less contact sport like soccer but I hear a cracking sound when I run and if I try to head the ball, I feel like someone hit me on the head with a baseball bat. 
I can't win.

He must have something broken for that pain. Maybe neck and rib like me? Maybe I'll become a blogger, its safer.

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future.

Other funny stories from this blog 
http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel (makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva

Haircut and Throatcut Please, I'll take both

Time for a Japanese Haircut, or throat cut, depending on what you'd like sir.

Well... I'll take both!

 I think he is gonna use that on my head, or possibly my throat. At least he looks happy to see me.

Repost from my older blog.


So I went to get my haircut today. It was the usual place I've been going in Vancouver. I go to this really cheap place 6$ plus taxes. Although it just went up to 8$, which is still pretty good. I went to an authentic Japanese salon in Vancouver and it cost 40$. Who wants to pay that? Especially for a guys haircut. I could probably give myself a bowl cut, with a shaver and pay nothing. 8$ is my kind of price.

So the only reason the place is so cheap is because its full of students that cut your hair. Today I had someone new. She was Chinese and I said "Do you speak any other languages?". She said she spoke Chinese and I'm like oh good for you. Then, she says to me "Are you Christian?". Since Christianity has nothing to do with language I thought it was weird. I was going to say no way, but thought she might be, so just to play it safe. Not exactly, I have no religion. "Oh!", she answered. I said, "Well, are you Christian?". "Yes", she answered.
Then she looks at me, "You seem nice, even though you aren't Christian". "Thanks I guess?", I answered. I guess the other 6 billion inhabitants of the world can't be nice cause they aren't Christian? 
I told her I lived in Japan and she asked me if there were many Christians. Again a weird question to start off a question, I get the feeling she only has religion on her mind. Since there are very few in Japan, I answered no, not really. There are about 1 million of the 135 million and the majority of Japanese tend to include themselves as belonging to more than one denomination, be it Shinto, Christian or Buddhist. One might say they use whatever religion conveniences them.
She said, "I see". 
End of conversation.... Silence for the rest of the haircut. 
At least the haircut didn't turn out that bad. It was a bit like this picture below.

Its not that noticeable right? No one will say anything.

Since it was silent I started to daydream and remember getting my haircut in Japan. It was kind of funny.
I went to this really cheap place near the Heiwado Super Market in our small town. It was like 1300 yen or $15, which is fairly cheap by Japan standards. They always asked me if I wanted a facial shave. Well, since the shave was always included in the price of course I wanted a shave. I would make sure I wouldn't shave the day of, to get extra value for my money. Always thinking I be. 
The only problem was that they would ask me to lean back as far as I could. I felt like I was a pig about to have my throat cut open to bleed. As I leaned back they would put boiling towels on my face, presumably to open the pores (or my skin with the blade). It felt good, but when they brought a huge blade across my throat I used to worry so much I could feel my heart race and probably super pronounced through the skin of my neck like an alien trying to escape my body. Since I had never seen Sweeney Todd Demon Barber or whatever its called, I could only make my own images in my mind of having my throat slit. Since I have a massive Adam’s apple I was always worried that it was about to get shaved off.

Now imagine that guy in Japanese form and a bigger blade and telling you to lean back and relax.

Luckily, aside from a little blood, I never got cut too badly. Afterward, they would wash down my face, shampoo my hair (for an extra 200yen or $2.50) and finish the cut, with a soft massage by a girl. Oh boy the massage was nice! I'm not going to lie. I wish they gave massages at Canadian places at a reasonable price, I'd be in there everyday and if they said you'd have to get your hair re cut, I'd do it!
One day at school I told my students where I got my haircut and they all laughed. I wondered what was so funny. Finally they told me that's where criminals worked. I wasn't sure if they were joking. I did think all the people who worked there, seemed like smoking, darker skinned (sometimes discriminated against in Japan), no teeth or gold teeth typed people. It didn't really matter to me since the price was right and so was the service. Unless of course, they did plan on cutting me for the extra 500 yen (5$ in my pocket).
I finally asked one of the English Japanese teachers what he thought of Samitto (Summit Barber). "Oh", he answered, "Actually I wouldn't go there. I think its all former criminals released from jail. I heard the government helps sponsor the place". WTF? I was going to a place where criminals just got out of jail ?
I thought someone was playing a joke on me. Apparently one of the students mom's worked there. I had mentioned numerous times at Samitto, that I worked at a really bad school called East Junior High where the students were all asses. Well, now I found out I was probably telling their parents. Whoops! Always good to dig yourself a grave, I'm sure someone there could throw me in. 
Some students also told me to look for signs, like slit wrist scars and neck scars or missing fingers.
I started to keep my eyes open for these things. I was surprised by how many I saw. I felt bad for the women who were cleaning my head, since I could see massive scars across their wrists where I assumed they had tried to commit suicide.
I also wondered when they washed my hair if they might want to hold my head under the water to kill me. I would, my Japanese isn't that great anyways, probably annoying to them to listen to my broken Japanese.
Every time I leaned back when I saw the barber with his sharp blade and his golden teeth, I worried he might want to "accidentally" cut me a little. 
They also used to stick a little mini shaver in my ear to cut out the hair. It tickled a lot and I used to laugh non stop. Some of the women would ask if I was OK. I wondered how come I was the only one that ever laughed? I must have a lot of old man hair in my ear or something.

Actually the whole thing seems pretty funny looking back at it now.
I only went to that place a few more times. We became friends with a girl that worked at a really high end hair salon across town. That has a few stories too, but not related to throat cuts or drownings. I think we got a deal from her.
When I broke my neck though and they were trying to wash my hair onetime, I felt like I was losing consciousness as my spine appeared to be snapping in half. When I mentioned I was in a bit of pain, they asked how much and I said "to the brink of death". I think they thought I was joking.
Sadly, I wasn't!

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

Other funny stories from this blog 
http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel (makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva