I went to see Bernie in the hospital last week, and boy, what a place. First of all, the entire place smelled of fish. I could smell it in the lobby a little, but in the elevator I really got it. Everyone obviously ate shitty Korean cafeteria food, and the collective smell was fucking awful. I was in the elevator with two oldies, a nurse and a guy on a gurney. The gurney guy had nothing to do but blow air. Impression number two was the absolute chaos of Bernie’s ward. Kids running around, old men with the scrubs and the IV stands, nurses everywhere. From the elevator, you’re staring down a long hallway of about 12 rooms. To your immediate right is the nurse’s station. Maybe a dozen nurses scurrying all over the place. Moving fast but not going anywhere. Apparently not doing anything either, as Bernie says they haven't done shit for him. Won't even fucking come and take his dirty dishes.
I have a piece of paper in my hand with Bernie’s name written in Korean. It’s transliterated into phonetics: “BO-NEE BAEB-KEOK”. I walk up to the desk, and there are women in pink pant-suits all over the place. One is sitting down typing on the phone, one is putting files away, and others are just moving. This station isn’t very big either. Only 3 chairs, so it's a big pink mess.
I give my slip of paper to the woman at the phone, and she tells me the room number in Korean. I understand the first half, so I ask her to repeat it. She of course thinks I'm a retard, so she just stares at me. "Uhhhh." Thankfully then a woman standing behind her says in bad English, “Seven zero eight”. Alright, cool.
I walk down the hall, and it turns out 708 is way at the end. I get there and I see two Korean men watching TV. One sitting in a chair, one on the bed. There are three beds, and one of them is empty. I see a backpack with a Canadian flag tag on it, so I know it’s Bernie. I go back to the nurse’s station, and all the women are doing the exact same thing. It's like a goddamn ant farm. A pink ant farm with hair buns. I ask in Korean where Bernie is. It’s one of the few things I can actually say, where something is. Where’s the bathroom? Where’s this thing? Where’s the Han River? The woman tells me he’s upstairs on the 9th floor. There’s a terrace up there.
So I finally get to Bernie, and what a fucking state. He looks good physically, but he has this giant thing on his leg. This contraption between his ankle and his knee, holding his shin together. Big as a trashcan. Like something from Wild Wild West, with the metal and the spider webs. It’s covered in this large bandage. It bulges under the cloth and looks like the frame of a parade float.
Apparently, this thing totally fucks Bernie's life up. He broke his tibia and fibia, and both breaks are different. One is vertical and jagged , and the other is horizontal and splintery. He’s in a wheelchair, and he's gonna be in it for a least a month. After that, he can use crutches, but he still has to have the spider web. He has something like a dozen pins in his bones, and the spider web holds everything together. And the worst part is that he's on crutches for a year. There are two pins that can’t come out till then. Poor guy.
Anyway, at least his spirits are good. His coworkers and bosses came to visit him, and they seem like they’ll stand by him. They won’t make him quit or anything. He might have to renegotiate his contract to reflect the new way he has to teach, but at least he won’t have to leave Korea. Plus, one of his student’s parents came to visit him, and she’s apparently influential with the other parents. She likes Bernie, so she’ll bat for him.
I guess all we can do is go to Bernie’s house and give him shots.
