Travel Horror Stories: Epsiode 2

Episode 1 was riding on the back of a motorcycle. You probably weren't scared, but god damn it I was.

Anyway, the moment at hand. There's a bit of background involved, so bear with me. This last week I have been unlucky enough to end up with a bizarre medical problem. I got a cold while working on the play in Kochi, and circumstances lead yeast to grow in my mouth. That sounds gross, and it is gross. It looks like a B-movie monster. It also took me a couple of days to figure out what the gross white stuff taking over my hard palate was.

The day I realized it was there, I had just arrived in Tokyo with Aya. She thought it looked like strep. I was a little bit skeptical because it didn't hurt, but I got some hardcore cold medication from a random pharmacy. That night, we met up with Paul and Renee in Shibuya for dinner and beer.

As we were about to leave the restaurant, I went to the washroom. I happened to look into my mouth. The B-movie monster was growing. It was freaking me out. I decided to take another packet of cold medication. This should fix my possibly-strep, right?

(I have to interject here for a moment to mention that Japanese cold medication is hardcore, and the medication I bought is extra hardcore. It is a cocktail of ibuprofen, some kind of ephedrine, some things that are too hard to read in katakana, and codiene. And remember, I took this when I had just had a beer. I swear, I didn't know what was in there at the time.)

So we all left the restaurant, planning to go to a karaoke box somewhere or maybe to explore Shinjuku nichome. We boarded a nice crowded JR train to Shinjuku. I was being polite and wearing a sicko-mask, because maybe I had strep. I started to feel a bit hot. Then we got off the train. It was crowded, and I think I tripped or something, because Paul and Renee grabbed my arms.

Good thing too, because just at that moment, surrounded by the river of people pouring out of the train against the current of the river of people pouring into it, I proceeded to faint in the middle of Shinjuku station. Apparently the expressions on the faces of the suits around us were pretty priceless, but unfortunately I missed out, because I didn't return to the present until my head hit the pavement. (Don't worry, I didn't even get a bruise.)

Anyway, Paul and Renee escorted Aya and I back to our hotel instead of out on the town. The next day I found an English-speaking doctor, who told me that the stuff in my mouth was probably herpes simplex but maybe not, and then the next next day I talked to my mother, who suggested it was more likely yeast, which is what it is acting like, so I'm going with that. Half a bottle of iodine rinse later, it seems to be going away. Of course, the yeast really has nothing to do with my incident in Shinjuku--it just made me worried enough to take medication when I shouldn't have.

The real lesson here is: don't mix beer, codiene, and subways.