Scarlet and Gray

"Has this been bothering you for a long time?" Nghi asked.

"Yeah, why?" I said.

"Your head. You're gray." She said, with great concern.

We were talking about my future when my furrowed brow must have caused her eyes to catch a glimpse of my aging scalp.

I found my first gray hair when I was 22. I remember straightening my hair in my tiny bathroom on Fairmount St. when something glimmered in the mirror. I took a closer look, grabbed my tweezers, pulled, and taped it to a black piece of paper.

Proudly, I showed it to a friend in class that afternoon. "Check it out. I'm going gray. I blame Dr. Anderson."

We giggled at my new-found adult-ness and I remember thinking how cool it would feel to be a 20-something year old with gray hair.

This is a picture of my father holding me. I am one week old. My father is 32. You can see his gray hair starting to show around his temple and in his mustache.

Growing up, my friends always thought that my father was my grandpa. His hair turned white soon after I was born. He used to jokingly blame my brother and I for making him turn white, but in looking at family photographs, his entire family had white hair at remarkably young ages.

After my father passed away, I remember wanting someone to look at me and say "Oh, you have your father's ______!" I wanted a physical trait that undeniably connected me to him. I used to stare at pictures of my father and look at myself in the mirror hoping to see some sort of resemblance. However, I look exactly like my mother (which isn't a bad thing... my mother is quite beautiful).

This is a picture of my head taken about 20 minutes ago. Before moving here, I dyed my hair back to it's original color to prevent having to use Chinese hair dyes again and it has only illuminated my quickly graying head. I'm not really ashamed at the grays (even though I counted over 20 in 1 square inch). I'm weirdly proud of them. I feel like I finally have a physical trait that links me to my father... and I feel distinguished.

National Holiday

This past Friday, October 1st, was the National Holiday. The amount of holidays in China can really get confusing, but this one is much more important than the rest. The National Holiday celebrates the establishment of the Communist Party during the Cultural Revolution in 1949. It's their equivalent of the 4th of July... only with less "freedom."

It has been smoggier than normal here. This picture was taken outside of the Forbidden City in Beijing during the National Holiday festivities. It hadn't been raining, nor was it overcast that day.

I had been dealing with an annoying cold all week, but thought nothing of it until Friday morning. I woke up with a deep, vulgar, putrid cough.

As an asthmatic, there's nothing scarier than the addition of a sickness to exacerbate your already deficient breathing.

Alex met me outside of my apartment building and we took a taxi to the hospital. Our good friend, Tom (a Tianjin local), met us there. Alex's Chinese skills are exceptionally better than mine, but when it comes to medical lingo, we were both at a complete loss. Tom is a great friend of both of ours and is always willing to help. He arrived at the hospital with dark circles under his eyes.

"What did you do all night?" Alex asked.

"I just bought a playstation. I played Resident Evil all night. I killed zombies until 5am" Tom said.

Upon entering, I was amazed at the massive amount of people waiting inside the lobby. Tom took me to the check-in desk and I was rushed to the front of the line. I asked Tom why we were rushed to the front and he said, "because... you're a foreigner."

I didn't complain.

Upon entering our area of the hospital, we were each given surgical masks. Tom escorted me to the "blood giving" line and the "pee sample" booth. After receiving my results, we were asked to wait in line for another doctor. I had been practicing how to say asthma "xiaochuan" and bronchitis "zhiqi guanyan", but to my surprise, my doctor spoke adequate English.

I told him that I had a cold all week but that my cough had started to develop and was worsening each moment. He listened to my lungs and looked at my chart.

Tom stood next to me as I tried to convey each symptom to the doctor. I made sure that he knew what I was allergic to and that I had asthma. He asked Tom a few questions and then turned to me.

"What color is your cough?" he asked.

"Green."

"You have virus," he said.

"No I don't. Zhiqi guanyan. I have bronchitis." I said most adamantly.

"No, white blood cells normal. Just a virus. I prescribe 2 IVs. One today, one tomorrow. Sleep. Drink hot water and this."

He shoved 2 bottles of Chinese medicine into my hands.

We were then sent to the IV room where they hooked me up to a glucose/sodium chloride drip with a shot of something else inside. Tom didn't know what was in the shot, but after seeing my voracious appetite and unbelievable strength, I'm sure that it was a shot of Prednisone.

I love Prednisone.

They needed another "pee sample" after about 1/2 of my IV was completed. After returning with the results, Tom spoke briefly with the doctor.

He turned to me with a grave look in his eyes (which was all I could see because of the surgical mask).

"I'm sorry, Abbie. It's bad news. Your blood is mutating. You are turning into a zombie. We're going to have to kill you." Tom said.

I appreciate his attempt to bring levity to the situation, but that was the last thing I wanted to hear while sitting in a hospital in the country where SARS originated.

"Thanks, Tom." I said. "Don't forget to aim for the brains."

I returned to the hospital yesterday for another round of IVs and another shot. I really really hope this is the last time I ever have to see the inside of a Chinese hospital.

However, I am amazed by the treatment I received. The cost of 2 hospital visits equals about $45. My doctors were attentive and extremely knowledgable. The facilities left much to be desired, but I survived.

My breathing is much clearer.

I partly give credit to the bottles of Chinese medicine the doctor gave to me. I have no idea what is inside of them, but it tastes like motor oil, ginger, cranberries, and lotus root. In any case, it has cured my cough and given me a great amount of energy.