Tokyo Cowgirl in Wonderland

There were a few things I was not expecting when I moved half way across the planet: 

~I was not expecting a job to plop in my lap.   
~I was not expecting to learn Japanese via osmosis. 
~And, oddly enough, I was not expecting to be prescribed Lithium ten minutes into my initial consultation with a therapist. 

God knows I love glamorous drugs, but it has always always always been an illegal hobby of mine.  With the aid of the internet or a few friends with bad backs or ADHD I have been able to thoroughly enjoy the most mundane activities.  Never before have any "controlled substances" been handed over to me for legitimately medicinal purposes, sans alcohol.  As unfortunate as my life has been because of it, I certainly didn't expect to move to Japan and have Lithium poured down my throat after completing a two-question survey.

Perhaps I'm a bit old-fashioned here (or just loony, apparently), but I sort of thought that maybe people who break phones and other miscellaneous devices/documents/objects might just have anger management issues.  That's what we called it back in the good ol' U.S. of A.  You call it wild and crazy phone breaking antics, I call it fun!  Not in Nippon.  Over here "anger management issues" directly translates into "bat-shit crazy!"  Things that we Americans find over-the-counter typical (like anger), they prescribe hardcore medication for (like Lithium).  Personally, I'm okay with being considered bat-shit crazy- if I am than it's undoubtedly one of my more endearing qualities. Still, before I started popping the third or fourth or whatever-it-is element on the Periodic Table after every meal I needed a second opinion.  And a third. 

For my second opinion I was referred to a really lovely American medical doctor who is as old (if not older) than my dad.  "Gee," I thought to myself.  "This guy has 80 plus years of experience dealing with Americans, he's going to see right away that I'm delightfully normal!"  One hour later I walked out of his office with a bag full of Lithium that came straight out of his office closet.  I'm not complaining, but is that how things work in Japan?  What happened to a prescription/pharmacy/middleman/someone who gives a damn before they hand out something that could potentially kill me if I mix it with something really crazy like I-don't-know... alcohol?      

Maybe I'm blowing everything out of proportion, maybe Lithium isn't that big of a deal.  In Japan you have to have a prescription for Pepto Bismol, too.  It is comforting to know that when I need to go back for my Zombieox it's going to be sitting on a shelf next to some pink Pepto Bismol.

At any rate, before I acquiesced to the idea of becoming an expressionless, apathetic, empty hull of a person, I conferred with V.  No, he is not a doctor, but he is a lawyer.  And, as lawyers go, he's not that bad.  Besides, I like to imagine that if something goes wrong I will have someone to wave around seemingly important legal documents with lots of fine print in my new therapist's face.  I had expected him to be skeptical.  Instead, he was practically hooking me up to an IV.  Just so you know, this isn't because he thinks it would be hot to date a zombie- it's just that he's sick and tired of me breaking really expensive phones. 

Comments

[yessica]

blog about the job, and don't take lithium