Vaccinations And Whatnot

Sumo K at four months. Bust those buttons!

...and another four months passed with no posts...

BUT, K is starting to sleep on her own, and I'm working on her napping on her own, too, so that should free up some time. Right? Right? Please tell me free time becomes more attainable.

Yikes, yikes and yikes

Anyway, when I left off, K was due for some immunizations. Ouch. The HIB was pretty standard and didn't faze me at all. K took it pretty well, too. The BCG on the other hand, well, that thing is terrifying. Imagine one of those prickly brushes they have to comb sheep wool. Imagine it shrunk down to about the size of a fat marker, and round. Then imagine someone pressing it, using all her body weight, into a baby's upper arm. Twice. Then some vaccine is rubbed on and you wait until it air dries. THAT is a Japanese BCG vaccine. Scary stuff. I did my best to remain calm in the face of it, as I have read that mummy's reaction affects baby, and I think I did a pretty good job. K didn't actually cry too much. And it really does look fine after a few days. Just a few days. After that, it swells and goes all red and looks terribly infected. Not having ever been exposed to such barbarity (I know, it's not really barbarity, but it was horrid nonetheless), I didn't know what to expect and was pretty sure K was going to keel over due to a terrible infection. I explained as much to our doctor during a visit, and much to my relief, was told all that swelling was normal. Yikes! The doctor was right, and now K just has the normal scarring. Still red. Still sad-looking. But no longer threatening. They marks will fade to white, and will remain, as a friend said, as a reminder that she's protected. How nice. The upside is that the mark is still a good sight better than those old polio scars. At least K's marks have character.

Next up was her 6/7-month visit. Not being able to read the information that came, K ended up on the 7-month side of things. It was a bit of a debacle, too, as I didn't realize that I had to fill out a form and bring it with me in order to have it be free. So, we paid the ¥5000 or so yen, and after H found the forms, headed back to get a refund. I will be prepared for the 9/10-month visit (which is coming up - ato yuma! (time flies)).

The fam in Kamakura.

In the meantime, I have joined a mamma's group. While sitting in the park one sunny March day, K stared down a Western woman and her two sons (aged 3 and 3 months). Oh, K. She loves to stare at people until they acknowledge her, at which point she usually gives a great big smile. This time, as usual, it worked, and the woman, M, came over. I cannot even begin to explain how nice it was to have a chat, even a little one, with another Western mother. Please don't think I'm narrow-minded or anything, but it is nice to chat with someone who grew up with the same ideas of safety and whatnot. It reminds you that you're not insane for thinking all babies/children should be in car seats, and children should wear bicycle helmets - and wear them properly (Yeah! Children not in car seats! "Newborns are too small to ride in car seats. It's dangerous... The straps are far too tight - loosen them so that K can wriggle around... Bike helmet? She'll look ridiculous and all the kids will laugh at her...) H is not the only Japanese person to feel this way - it's virtually everyone!!! Gah! So yes, it was nice to meet someone who felt the same way.

Becky/ベッキー♪♯

M invited me to join the mamma's group. So far, I've been out... twice I think. I wish I could make it out more often, as all of the women and kids are wonderful, however, between work and weather, it can't always be done. Such is life. One thing that surprised me (and made me realize that I am somewhat stuck in "half" stereotyping...) was that all of the babies are fairer than K. I thought K looked pretty Western, but wow, blond/blonde hair galore! Of course, K's hair seems to be lightening: it's coming in red and blonde. So perhaps she will end up just as fair. Only time will tell. And I learned my lesson: not all "halfs" (I think I will call K a double-double, or a half-and-half - both good Canadian-based expressions) are like Becky.

Oh, How Things Change...

My, it has been a while. I didn't mean to let things go this long, but between laziness and a new baby, things are just not getting done.

My last entries were on the earthquake, almost a year ago. Time flies. Japan has been moving on as best it can. Over the New Year holidays, there were lots of programmes on progress that has been made up north, as well as stories about individuals and families and how they are faring. Lots of video clips as well. It's strange to think that that actually happened; living in Tokyo, we just don't see reminders very often. When we do, for me at least, it's very surreal. But, we cannot dwell on it forever, and so neither will I in my blog.

Sitting on my lap right now (because every time I put her down, she starts to cry) is my little angel/pork chop/sweet pea/call-her-what-you-will K. K turned four months just the other day. For her four-month check up, I had to take her down to the local health centre where all the other babies born in September, along with their mummies, were waiting to see the doctors. We got a lecture on the introduction of solids and even got a plate of samples (vegetable soup, rice cereal ("okayu"), mashed potatoes, carrots and spinach). Surprisingly delicious. From there, we were visited in small groups by library volunteers (and even given a little board book), and then called in to see a doctor. Let me tell you, a room full of little nearly naked babies is a pretty adorable sight.

Next up are K's immunizations. The paperwork that came to explain how they're given was mind-boggling, especially for me, since my ability to read kanji (Chinese characters used in Japanese) is pretty pathetic. Even H had trouble figuring all of the information out. In the end, we had hospital staff explain it to us. So, coming up this month is K's HIB vaccine ("heebu uwakucheen" is how it sounds in Japanese - confusing!) followed by her BCG next month. The BCG given here is different from back home. Kids end up with a mark on their arm like someone pressed a piece of Lego against them until it left red spots. The spots then fade to white and then disappear (or so I'm told). Anywho, thanks to K spending five days in the hospital for an unknown infection in November, resulting in numerous needles (three to her spine - ouch!) and other unpleasantness, she'll be all over this immunization business. Not that she remembers at all, but still.


Anywho, immunizations are only one of the many parts of pregnancy, childbirth, child rearing, etc., that are different from back home. I'll try to make a few more entries about the joys of doing things in a different culture over the next while - if K ever lets me put her down...

The Escape: Part 2

I got to Narita, and just as they were reporting, it was a madhouse. I nervously asked Information where I would be able to find Immigration and was told to go to the fourth floor of the south wing. Sure enough, there was a table there, being swarmed by foreigners, manned by three or so immigration officials. 

"Excuse me, I have my revenue stamp, but I don't have my re-entry permit. I tried this morning, but by 10am, Tachikawa's office was already over."

"Eeeeehhh---? Well, okay, you need to fill this in. Then take it to immigration when you are boarding and they will fill it out. Make sure you go early!"

I filled in the form over lunch (first lunch - there would be two more) and noticed that there was an extra page. 

"The Immigration Office does not give re-entry permits at the airport. We are, however, making an exception JUST THIS ONCE. Your signature means that you will never again attempt to get a re-entry permit at the airport," was the gist of the form. Annoyed, I signed anyway. I had TRIED to do things the right way. It wasn't my fault if Immigration decided to close an hour after they opened. I told three or so immigration officials this, but no one cared. Next disaster, it seems I'll be out of luck.


The wait was about thirty minutes to get the permit processed at Narita immigration. It was chaos. People had no idea what line in which to stand, or what forms they needed. The staff was doing its best, I believe, but they were overwhelmed. Luckily, airport staff is a heck of a lot nicer and more efficient in Japan than they are in Canada (my apologies to decent airport staff members in Canada, but from my experience, you are few and far between), so the experience wasn't as bad as it might have been. I'm just happy I got my permit.


The flight was packed full. I had an annoying experience at the start, but that was my own fault for not being strong-willed enough. There was more turbulence than I'm used to, which had me gripping the seat and thinking "great, I left Tokyo only to be killed in a plane crash," but, happily, it didn't come to that.


Now, I'm home, safe and sound, for two weeks. Sure, it's nice, but I hate not knowing what's actually going on. I read things like "iodine found in Tokyo drinking water" and start to panic. I hate being separated from my husband. It's unpleasant, but I guess it is best. Three arms might be useful for a child, but the bullying would likely be terrible, I suppose. *sigh* I'll just hope things get better and I can go home in two weeks as planned.


Thank you to all who have been keeping up with me here and sending messages of concern. It's been much appreciated. I'll let you know how Tokyo is doing once I get back home.

The Escape: Part 1

Well, foreigners living in Japan have, like so many bananas, split. It's been a veritable exodus, making the front pages of Japanese newspapers and causing unbelievable backups at immigration offices as people make mad dashes to get their re-entry permits. I had no intention of joining this madness, rising above the various pleas and demands that I return to Canada, until my husband informed me that I'd be leaving the next day. *sigh* It's hard to argue with that, and all of the guilt-tripping (example: you're PREGNANT! PREGNANT women are more vulnerable to radiation poisoning. Think of your BABY!!!"). So, just as my husband had said, the next day I was leaving on a jet-plane, bound for Pearson International Airport.

Just to give you an idea of the madness, I'll tell you about the morning I left:

At about 5am, just before my husband was to get up for work, I gasped and sat up, scaring my poor husband who thought something was physically wrong with me/baby, and exclaimed "I have no re-entry permit!" This is a bad thing. In Japan, if you leave the country with the intention of coming back, but without a re-entry permit, you lose your visa upon your return. This means no working (bye-bye employment), a three-month visitor's visa, and a lot of paperwork to fill in for a new visa. So, before you leave the country, you have to head out to immigration, buy a revenue stamp (single re-entry: 3000 yen; multiple re-entry: 6000 yen), take a number, wait in line, wait for your application to go through, and then head home. The re-entry permit lasts only as long as your visa, so, upon getting a new visa, you have to do the same thing over again. 

Now normally, I would have done this well in advance of leaving the country, but this time, there was no time. So, determined to get things done quickly, I headed out the door at 8.30am, arriving at office at about 9.30. I went to buy a revenue stamp at the convenience store. They were all sold out. So, I headed to the post office to get one. The line ran out the door. The people in front of me were almost all buying stamps for their friends, too, which had me worried that the post office would run out, too. Luckily, they didn't. I got my stamp (multiple re-entry. I figured I might as well), and headed to the immigration building. The line there went out the door and down the very, very long street. There were police to keep order. I ducked between two police and got in line. Immediately, an immigration official came up to me.

"I'm sorry, but we're done for the day," he said. (I might point out that it was 10am...TEN FREAKIN' AM).

"Eeeeehhhh----? But my flight leaves today. I have to get a permit," said I.


"Oh, I see. Do you have your ticket?" he asked.

"It's an electronic ticket. All I have is my itinerary," I replied.

"Oh, I see," he said, looking rather worried. "What time do you fly?"

"7pm."

"Oh, I see (the Japanese say this a lot). Well, I'll go ask, but I don't think it's possible."

By this point, I was nearly in tears (sleepy + pregnancy-related emotional instability + not wanting to leave my husband = teary me). He came back a few minutes later shaking his head.

"It's impossible, I'm afraid. Where are you flying from? Narita?"

"Yes," I said, "what should I do?"

"Well, go to Narita and try there."

"TRY, TRY????" I thought. How does one TRY at Narita airport? If one fails, what does one do? Oh well, no choice. I headed to Narita.

Normally, I would take the Chuo line to Shinjuku, then the Narita Express to the airport. It's the way I always do things. It's convenient and comfortable for me. Unfortunately, my attempt to buy a ticket went something like this;

"Excuse me, I'd like to buy a Narita Express ticket, please."

"The Narita Express is not running today," stated the incredibly pre-occupied-with-gluing-something-together staff member. 

"Uh, what? What should I do? How should I get to the airport?"

"Track 15 to Nippori. Take the Keisei line," replied Mr. Pre-occupied, without even looking up.

Thankfully, I made it to Nippori and from there things went much more smoothly. But let me tell you, the first few hours of my day nearly had me screaming in rage and frustration. 

Aftermath! Part 3

Press Conference by TEPCO (later on)

Dear People of Japan,

Hi! How are ya? Didja hear about that sumo scandal? Unbelievable, am I right? Lying bastards... By the way, to those of you living within a thirty-kilometre radius of the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant, you, uh, might want to go out and buy a hazmat suit. Oh, but if I were you, I wouldn't leave the house, unless you want to end up looking like this handsome fellow.You also *might* want to avoid opening the doors, windows, you know, anything that lets in air from outside. Oh, and you know, I wouldn't eat any fruit or vegetables from around here, but well, I'm kinda picky, so you know, it's up to you. And the water? Doesn't taste so good these days. Yes, that's why you shouldn't drink it. The taste... 

One more thing, if you've been outside, dust yourselves off before entering your house, eh? That should get rid of any *radiation* that might, you know, have gotten on you from somewhere.

Aftermath! Part 2

Press Conference by TEPCO (the next day)

Dear People of Japan,

TEPCO is doing everything in its power to control the "situation" at the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant. There was a *minor* problem, well, explosion really, but everything is great. Never better, in fact. A *few* people have been exposed to radiation, but a shower will clean them right up. Everything else in Fukushima? Gold.

Aftermath! Part 1

Press Conference by the Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO)

Dear People of Japan,

You may have heard from *someone* (squinty eyes in the direction of foreign countries and press), that due to the earthquake and tsunami, reactors at the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant have been compromised. I cannot emphasize enough how untrue this is. Mostly. Believe me: we have things under control. I dare say things are peachy.

(TEPCO employee whispers in ear)

Well, uh, it would seem that our backup generators are, uh, oh the fritz. But fear not! We've got it oh so covered. There's a whole ocean out there just full of cold water we can use to fix this. Same stuff that caused the problem. Oh, the ironing is delicious! I mean, irony. I mean, things are peachy.

(sound of explosion)

Er, uh, Blam! Kablooie! Oh, excuse me, it must have been that *bean* I ate at dinner. This press conference is over.