As the nurse explained, in very broken English, that the doctors may have to remove my ovaries, my once empty tear ducts began to overflow. For the past few hours I begged to be cut open, I needed an end to the pain. Now that it was happening, being wheeled to surgery by staff I couldn’t understand, hysteria set in. Stripped of my gown and all nine of my piercings, I was finally put under anesthesia.

It’s the anniversary of my impromptu hospitalization in South Korea. It started with a regular morning minus a slight pain I felt in my side. You know that pain that forms when you’ve been running? That’s the one, except I hadn’t been for a run….in a while. Little did I know, that pain would be the catalyst for one of the scariest moments in my life.

A Regular Morning Turned Painful

Living next to a mountain the air is cold but always fresh. My apartment is beautiful, cozy, and full of natural light. I wake up happy and ready to start my day. Sporting a sweater and my fleece-lined slippers I mosied into the forever messy kitchen. I prepared my usual fruit smoothie for breakfast, attempted to do a little cleaning, and quickly found that the more I moved the more pain I was in. Instead, I lay in bed reading until the afternoon classes started.

Luckily, my bright-eyed elementary school students loved being helpful and I could sit for the majority of our short time together. Still, by the end of the day, the pain had increased. But as Mama always said, “we not going to no hospital”.

Ignoring the Signs: When Rest Isn’t Enough

Yep, when in doubt, lay down, take a nap, and maybe drink some ginger ale. I carefully climbed the four flights of stairs to my apartment and climbed into bed. It’s hard to feel pain when you’re asleep. Fast-forward a few hours, I woke up with increased pain, but all the nearest hospitals were already closed. I didn’t have any ginger ale but drank ginger shots as a substitute. I gulped half a bottle and drifted back to sleep.

The Midnight Rush to the Hospital

By 3 AM, I was feverish, sweating profusely, and could barely stand. In the six steps it took to get from my room to the bathroom, I found myself hugging the toilet offering up my ginger shots. The cold of the bathroom floor felt nice against my sweaty skin. However, my skin refused to cool. There I lay, in the coldest room, with the window open during winter next to a mountain sweating bullets. Pain, fever, nausea, pain, fever, nausea. Oh shit did my appendix burst?? It was time to go to a hospital. It took me 30 minutes to push through my symptoms and get dressed.

Navigating the Language Barrier in a Medical Emergency

Once dressed, I called an unsuspecting taxi driver and had him rush me to the hospital. With concern and determination in his eyes, he transformed into Domonic Toretto. Taxi drivers have taught me a lot of Korean. Many are chatty and their conversations are low-stress since we are unlikely to meet again. However, as I struggled to respond to basic questions I gathered that I would not survive a conversation in a hospital. I managed to offer up an urgent 세워주세요 (sewojuseyo), causing him to stop abruptly so I could give more bile offerings to the sidewalk.

Waking up in a private room after surgery

Waking Up in Gratitude

It wasn’t until TikTok showed me an “on this day” video that I realized I spent last Thanksgiving in the hospital. While I don’t recommend spending your holiday this way, I am truly grateful for those who helped me through this traumatic event. Everyone from the taxi driver who acted as my ambulance and delivered me safely to the hospital to my friends who came to the hospital with me and translated, and even the kitchen staff who prepared “Western food” attempting to get me to eat.

What This Experience Taught Me About Living Abroad

Being in a foreign country on a regular day can be intimidating and stressful. Add a health scare to the mix and it’s easy to want to book the nearest flight home. Looking back, it was a blessing that I had this experience abroad. Not only could I afford it, but I could see a different side of Korea and its healthcare system. We often talk about how great it would be to live abroad and create a new life but fail to understand the complexity of integrating yourself into a new society, especially when a new language is involved.

This experience made me realize I could make a life for myself in Korea. I understand my strengths and weaknesses in regard to communication and cultural understanding. I know how and when to ask for help. Most importantly I know that when I ask for help, I have a support system in place to do so. As I think back on this day I am filled with gratitude.

Have you ever had a health scare abroad? Or spent a holiday somewhere unexpected? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear your story.

My Scariest Experience in South Korea: A Health Scare Abroad