Bye Bye Barbara

Former-Girlfriend/Olympic Volunteer: Barbara
So there are a few thing I haven't really talked about on my blog

1. I have begun to take bubble baths on a regular basis while listening to jazz music.
2. I am deathly afraid of my physical therapist, and she seems to love to terrorize me and look forward to making my life almost as miserable as hers. On Wednesday, she said that I have the leg strength of a ten year-old boy. Seriously, if being a half-cripple isn't bad enough I have to deal with this death troll on a weekly basis who hasn't brushed her teeth in a decade.
   
3. And that I have had a 23 year-old Chinese girlfriend named Barbara since the end of the Olympics, and we have a baby together(NOTE: Barbara understands the American sense of sarcasm, so a penguin that I won for her while playing a carnival game has been our pseudo-child. His name is "Jing-Jing" and he loves to eat).

I have not had the greatest week: They have that MTV Show "Best Week Ever", well I would like to rename it "A Tribute to Kicking Matthew Atkinson in the Nuts: Worst Week Ever"....

Eight days ago I had my backpack stolen. That was not so much fun as my entire picture gallery from Hong Kong, Guanghzhou, and Shanghai was on it; although, there are not many pictures from Guangzhou as I would not risk my precious camera in a city full of hoodlums and worse. Another miserable aspect of the life of Matt Atkinson in these days of non-grace has been the horrible fact that since I missed a full week of school for my trip to the above-mentioned cities, I got behind on EVERYTHING. I have written four group/individual papers in 8 days about the ever non-interesting subjects of: Starting an Internet Cafe Business in China, strategy for the international expansion plan of Huawei, M&A of Chinese firms in the developed world, and currency hedging systems. So I have spent more time in my room than a bear in hibernation, and I look like one of those lab rats who can't open his eyes since he has never seen the light. There have literally been two days where I did not leave my apartment! So you could say things were not going well...

I thought that I had finally been given enough smacks in the face for any man to handle, but fate had one last kick in the balls for the grieving author. This morning I was given the finishing blow that I think was meant to make me run for the first flight out of town. It was like when you play the video game "Mortal Kombat" and you have already beat your opponent to a pulp as he aimlessly stumbles to the ground, but before he can crash face first on the ground you can push some secret combination of buttons to do a "finishing move" that adds insult to injury. I remember one of the characters ("Raiden") could rip out his opponent's heart and hoist it in the air to show that he is a real alpha-male, well that's about the equivalent of my miserable morning on this sad and sedated Sunday....I got dumped by my former Chinese girlfriend this morning..................by text message! I meen talk about kicking a man when he is down, this was really unfair. It would have been bad enough in person, or even over the phone, but when I saw the news on my cell phone I actually laughed... Screw you Paris Hilton for giving girls around the world the savvy to text message breakup news in foreign lands...LOL

But first off... a little background about Barbara because I have never really talked about my former flame. I think my former girlfriend Barbara is one of the most beautiful people in all of Beijing. She has a gorgeous face with really thick lips, and doesn't wear a lot of makeup; she has a body that does not have an ounce of fat on it (unlike my voluptuous figure); and she doesn't act pretentious and dresses in Nike style clothes and smokes the occasional lung dart (cigarette) with me, which is a bad habit and I swear I will be quiting by New Year. Barbara (her Chinese name sounds like Mengjie) is studying English in college which means that we can actually communication (unlike the other 95% of women) in this city.. She was an Olympic volunteer when I got her number, I was pretty hammered on a bus getting back from the Olympic Women's Field Hockey Semifinals: so you know it had to be true love at first site. We went to see Olympic Boxing together, and then had a really romantic date at Hou Hai, and well the rest has been history.

She is a busy lady as she goes to school full-time; works at different jobs; lives with her family and is doing stuff with them constantly; oh and she actually has friends. She also recently got over a long-term relationship, so our little romance was probably doomed from the start. Not to mention the fact that I am a goofy American who is only here on a short-term basis; nevertheless, it has been a blast having a real Chinese girlfriend. Not the kind that just wants an American boyfriend for money or a Visa; or the KTV variety who just wants money and is willing to perform fellatio to get it; or many of the girls out here in the Orient who seem to be fascinated with me because of reasons I really don't understand and I have nothing in common with except for ten fingers and toes. It is actually pretty annoying sometimes walking around here in China, as random Chinese girls who just want something from you come up and harass you. This happens a lot at the really tourist-friendly places like Tianamen Square and I generally wear a low-brim hat and try to act like I just killed a bus filled with nuns so the Chinese women there will leave me alone. I end up treating some of these girls like they are gypsies and give them a stone-cold look which means get out of my way(I am in no way proud of this), because I do not care if I run you over. Anyways, almost all of the girls I have met out here in Beijing are just flawed in too many ways to count, except this crown jewel named Barbara. Many of the other expats out here are hitting up KTVS and dealing with thirsty Chinese women for nothing more than a one-night stand, but I am sad to say I am just too old for this nonsense. Oh, and I can't sing either.

Barbara and I have had some great adventures together: going to theme parks and riding roller-coasters; laughing about how fat our pseudo-child penguin is; having Italian food together and me explaining to her about the fine cuisine of Italy and the Super Mario Brothers; without talking to her and seeing her pretty face in my days after the surgery I don't even know if I would have stayed out here in the Orient. She has constantly kept me on stable ground, even though I don't see her that often because she actually has a life.

But alas, the days of Matt & Barbara have come to a screeching halt. I have given her some serious grief about not hanging out with me as much as I would like, mainly because I don't have anything to do and she actually does so this situation has gotten a little rocky. So, I think Barbara finally had enough of my annoying texts; or maybe she got back together with her former boyfriend; it could have been that after having coffee with me this Thursday and being horrified by my atrocious appearance she realized that mating with me would be the worst idea since "New Kids On the Block" got back together; or possibly she has gotten peer-pressured from her Chinese friends to do away with this American devil...Who knows? I hope that I will see her again, but right now that is only a 50-50 shot. Listed below is the text that I got this morning from Barbara...
"No, I think I don't fit to have a boyfriend now. I am always busy on my study and job."
SENT AT: 1:31 (WOW! I thought it was much earlier.)

Now that I have already gotten dumped I am going to have to come clean about one thing. I could not find Barbara's email address two days ago, and I google searched her name (Mengjie) to try to find it. To my dismay and amazement, I actually got taken to a site that was Mengjie's (Barbara) blog and I could not believe how incredibly attractive that she is. I guess if you are going to date a Chinese girl on a study-abroad mission you might as well pick the best... This blog (that I will probably be blocked from tomorrow) had a photo gallery of my lovely Barbara wearing a bikini for all the world to see. I was not impressed that revealing photos of my lady-tiger are probably being stared at by Chinese metrosexuals as I type this blog. Then I saw a blog post from Barbara (which I will say was from about eight months ago) that scared the living daylights out of me, as her ex-boyfriend was written about as if he was the spawn of Satan. Funny thing is, I was online and Im'd a couple of my friends telling them how sexy my Chinese girlfriend was at this time...Like this just happened! LOL So I guess I got what I deserved as Miss Barbara gave me the axe today. I can't blame her, I am not the kind of guy that a Chinese family would embrace. I never met them, and it is probably the only reason I am still alive today...

But all in all I'm actually really good. A little sad, but not like super-sad. I played chess with my Australian bro this afternoon and we made a scene talking about all kinds of madness that attracted the attention of everyone in the room. I'm looking forward to my next five weeks in the Orient, and have actually decided to stay longer (new departure date is January 3rd). Back when I got here I just kept thinking about leaving, but now I'm content to live a life China. This is pretty unbelievable since I have been a human pinata for the Chinese to hit with baseball bats over the last few months, but I actually still love it out here. I'm even gonna do some job interviews in the coming weeks to see if I can't get a job living out here in the Orient after I graduate from Pepperdine. How the worm has turned my friends... Let's hope that I have paid my dues and am in store for some good luck, and Barbara if you do read this far (and don't feel like gouging my eyes out), please make sure to take care of our child. I hate to be a dead-beat dad, but it is time for me to go...


bye bye Barbara,

Father of Jing-Jing

Hong Kong, Guangzhou, Shangai: Volume Dos

So I roll into this bar and the Monday Night Football Arizona Cardinals vs. San Francisco 49ers game is on. I was in euphoria as I pulled up a chair next to a couple of rowdy Americans and ordered a Guinness. These guys were like ten years older than me, but seemed like stand-up dudes at the time... I guess looks can be deceiving. If I could of I would have kick both of them in the shins as hard as I can, but since I am borderline crippled I am relegated to fighting off mosquitoes and aardvarks on my best days. After shooting the breeze with these two degenerates for a bit, I had the more annoying of the dubious duo put his hand on my shoulder and offer me these wise words of wisdom that were supposed to be inspiring: "Matt, it's all about hookers. There is no city where whores are cheaper than here. This place is paradise." What a sack of s%$& this toolbox was, and it just got worse from there. As I watched the football game (I have not seen pro football since the Super Bowl) with the intensity of one of those hyper-kinetic bathroom attendant guys that it seems has a life goal of handing out as many paper towels as humanly possible. FYI-If I'm taking a leak the last thing I want to deal with is some guy trying to wipe me down or spray cologne on my neck.

Back to the game, it was amazing. It was like watching football for the first time, and then all of the sudden the guy who I had previously believed was mute on the far-left says, "OH! STARS TIME!!!" And this nimrod flips the script to MFing Poker. "Poker Stars". I would have said something but I am a gimp, so I ended up cracking jokes with this unshaven American who plopped into the seat to the right of me. After shooting the breeze for a bit he asked if I wanted to go to a jazz bar with a sultry Chinese songstress. I was down like James Brown without a frown and hopped into a taxi, and was sipping a gin and tonic with his crew in a bit. Dude was a piece of a work though. I am no Adonis, but he was telling me how he had too many women to control and he might have to move out of the city because of it. This guy also looked like Kevin Love (the next Mark Madsen) after eating eating a sea-lion, so I gotta say he was full of B.S.
http://blog.oregonlive.com/highschool/2007/11/Kevin-love.jpg

The bar was awesome and the singer really was sultry. It was crazy to see such a petite lovely Chinese girl belt out tunes that rocked the house. Unfortunately, my new comrades were about as cool as having Willow as your wing-man at a bap mitzvah.
http://www.cinemablend.com/moviereviews/images/willow/willow1.jpg

The next day I had my flight cancelled and was stuck playing PSP at the airport for a few hours (which was so incredibly awesome). I forgot to mention that in the Kong I bought this new contraption on a whim, and now we are the closest of friends. I eventually did get a flight and soon later I was off to Shanghai.

I met up with an alum named Eric (who is the Hugh Hefner of the Orient) and he selected only the most intimate of settings for our meet and greet...HOOTERS! This guy is a cool cat and speaks fluent Chinese and our table was breaking it down like Michael Jackon pre "Black or White". In fact my new fabulous Facebook photo recalls this marvelous time. I'm sure recruiters will be very impressed.... I really could care less because every time I see that picture it will put a smile on my face. We had the "Miss Hooters China" hanging out with us, and got many pics on Eric's gynormous camera that even made me look good (not an easy job my brethren). After flirting with well-endowed Hooters waitresses it was soon time to change gears once again and meet and greet Daniel, a pledge bro from ATO at USC from way back in the day.

Daniel, is a man, a myth, and a legend into himself. Have barely talked to him in the last five years and the next thing I know we are at a KTV doing big things like my favorite bar in Hollywood "Big Wings". WARNING: If you are under eighteen years old (AKA Cousin Lauren, Cousin Maribelle) stop reading this now and go eat your vegetables...

A KTV is a place filled with borderline prostitutes who line up in a row of say fifteen and you pay them to hang out with you. They also play lots of Karaoke and you drink only whiskey. I am proud to say that up until a few days ago this was my first experience at such a place, but what a crazy place! I was a little intimidated by these thirsty incredibly-hot Chinese women dressed up like they were getting married, and each vixen gave me a look of both pure love & admiration (I hate the way that money works sometimes). I didn't know how/who to pick so I just opened it up to a pseudo-debate and asked if any of these thirsty-ass broads spoke English. Out of the lineup only one raised her hand, and soon later this sexy blue-dressed Chinese sensation was feeding me watermelon slices and playing dice games against me. She was actually cool. Good sense of humor; knew hot to roll dice; even got my KFC jokes. Too bad she was a whore, or something of the sort. So the night continued with us drinking our faces off and everybody but me singing karaoke. I sing about as well as Mike Ditka singing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAXTbPCcGNM

Nailed the QMBA Fair the next day, and met a couple lovely ladies from Germany (their cards are in my stolen bag?!?!). The best part of the fair, besides flirting with Chinese metrosexuals, is that there are an incredible amount of sexy women who work for the other schools. Which makes perfect sense. Would you rather talk to my goofy ass or a beautiful woman with pigtails. Option #2 is certainly my favorite and is a major reason why these fairs are littered with Aphrodite look-alikes. Since almost all of the other men look like they are pregnant or are trying out for sumo wrestling lessons, some of these beautiful women actually come up and talk to me. More than a few actually, which really says something about my male counterparts at the fairs (keep eating donuts my friends!). These two women were from Mannheim University and one reminded me much of my Thai-food loving German friend Bianca who is the coolest girl that I know. We closed down the bar, and afterwards I came home and watched "Coming to America".

I hired a personal tour guide to trek me around the city on the following day, and we "rolled deep" as the previously mentioned Washburn used to state like a creed. Shanghai is beautiful and we went from site to site in a hurry to do all and see all. For some reason I got stuck on panda jokes, and everywhere we went I demanded to see a panda. When they did not have a panda medallion at the "Jade Factory" I threatened to leave. My tour guide was the best. If anybody goes to Shanghai shoot me an email and I will connect you with her. She didn't even welsh on a bet like I thought she would (and I probably would have). We did rocks, papers, scissors, and the loser had to catch a Koi fish with his/her bare hands. Well, I didn't think she would really do it, but she did kindof. She raised to about half-mast and pissed-off everybody in our vicinity. It was so incredibly awesome and I tipped her an extra 200 RMB for this type of extra-special service. There was a lot of other fun stuff too, but I am sure you guys are bored by now and are just waiting for a sign-off so here you go.
Prost,
KFC Killa
(I kill chicken at KFC like the Colonel must have killed it with the ladies)

Hong Kong, Guangzhou, Shanhai Diaries: Volume Uno

First off apologies for not posting any pictures of the shenanigans from my misadventures in the above-mentioned cities. Nevertheless, I am unable to do many things as my backpack was stolen last night complete with: cell phone, digital camera, reading glasses, my only Sports Illustrated, paperwork that I NEED, and other necessary items. I have been told since I came to Beijing to always keep your eye on your bag, and last night I took my eyes off of the prize and now I'm backpack-less; unable to make phone calls; I have difficulty reading; and if I do read something it will unfortunately not be about NFL Football. Meanwhile, some Chinese metrosexual thief could be snapping pics of his party posse on my prized picture-taking device.

Anyways, after getting my knee sliced and diced in the Orient six weeks ago I feel like I can handle just about anything. Well maybe not anything, as I do not think I could win an Oreo-cookie eating contest versus Rosie O'Donnell. But still, this is difficult but by no means catastrophic and I'll figure out all this nonsense sometime soon. So now let's talk about the times spent in the cities of: The Kong, Guangzhou (a city filled with pimps and drug-dealers), and the Shanghai. These are mostly more fond memories than the backpack jacking that I got served with last night.

I am the representative for Pepperdine out here in China for the QMBA Fair as prospective Chinese students go to these fairs in different cities to learn more about various MBA programs. It is hands down the easiest job in the world. All I do is wear an expensive suit, smile, and give folks a sales pitch that is eerily reminiscent of Alec Baldwin's character in "Glenn Gary Glen Ross" minus the brass balls pitch. And for some reason I am really good at it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-AXTx4PcKI

Anyways tour stop one was Hong Kong. What an incredible city. Beautiful buildings, beaches, great shopping, it is clean, pretty women, I mean this place is just fantastic. Except for one half-hour at the QMBA Fair where I was accosted by the strangest geriatric Chinese man on the planet. The Chinese assassin interrupted my conversation with actual students by asking me about my feelings of varying Chinese proverbs and all kinds of nonsense. This guy sucks. I mean he was relentless, I even went to go get a coffee hoping I would vanquish my foe by waiting him out but he was still at my booth with a Cheshire Cat smile on his face. Other than that the fair went well, and that night I hit up the bar street and had a blast. I bumped into a couple jovial American rugby players and then met a couple of sassy girls who were game to hang out and listen to my horrible repertoire of bad jokes and self-promotion. We mingled with a gang of Chinese women dressing up in sexy pirate outfits for a Bachelorette Party. Lots of other fun times, and woke up the next day feeling like a million bucks. I lounged around THE KONG on Sunday: with a USC Alumni event in the morning, which was incredibly lame as my Trojans played with the ferocity of an autistic manatee; then I went up to "The Peak" where you get a bird's eye look at paradise; then shopped and actually bought some stuff for a change (I would like to note that my first purchase in THE KONG was a KFC Wall Hanger with the Colonel looking glorious); and saw as much as you possibly can in one day.

The next day I was off to the so-called "City of Gold" Guangzhou. In reality this place should be entitled the city of pewter or frankincense. After the MBA Fair was over, which I dazzled like Brian Boitano in a leotard, I decided to venture out to this mystical city that I knew nothing about. In thirty minutes of walking I was offered: marijuana, ecstasy, women, men, and anything else you can think of. I mean they probably had some hermaphrodites as well, if that was your thing. The "African Mafia" rules the streets out there, and they are borderline ruthless. Nobody told me this until after my trip...thanks guys! After my crippled ass was accosted for like the thirtieth time I just finally snapped and told this pimped-out drug dealer, to "get the f*&% out of my face!" Not smart. Not at all. The next thing I know this 50-Cent protege had gathered a gang of street thugs and soon after they were rumbling straight for me. I would have run, but I can't. I can barely walk. As the wannabe rappers inched closer to me, I was given a gift from the Gods as a taxi came straight from heaven to pick me up. I was going to ask him to take me home, but then I remembered a bar that was referred to me by a friend where they play NFL Football, and pulled the trigger on the move to this mecca of brews and pigskins.

Volume Uno Complete,

Colonel Sanders Jr.

A new beginning

Well I have no idea if anybody is reading this blog anymore, I am pretty out of touch with Western Society it seems. This was evident yesterday as I strolled down Chinese boulevards on my favorite holiday (Halloween), and saw not a soul dressed up in costume. It is was simply business as usual in the Orient, making life seem normal yet still very strange. I have persevered through a troublesome month of October, I feel like I went through the metamorphosis of a butterfly: I was in a cocoon for four days lying in misery after my surgery in a hospital bed; then I slowly broke my way out of the shell with training wheels (crutches of doom); learned how to fly (walk, or actually stumble for the most part); and now I have launched myself into the real world once again.

Beijing, China is not a handicapped friendly town and I am very happy to be off of my crutches. Nevertheless, I am still the slowest mammal in the city as my right leg has as much strength in it as a Newt Gingrich's gizzard. When I get dropped off via taxi to trek my way to class, the Chinese students stare at me as if I'm a mystic being that just landed in their realm. The SC jacket, or LA Dodgers backwards hat, or "LA Don't Love You" t-shirt probably doesn't help my anonymity. Nevertheless, the simple act of walking to and from class is really a big deal for me now, after having the ability to walk taken away it really makes you appreciate how fortunate one is to have a pair of somewhat able-bodied legs. The only real difficulty in my marches has been crossing the street since pedestrians do not have the right of way in China. Taxis, motor scooters, bicyclers, they will not hesitate to mow you over if you're got in their path. So every time I cross the street I have to precisely time my stroll. I wish I had a Youtube clip of the molasses-level speed I display in my cross-walkings. Small children whiz past me like they are on HGH, but so far so good. I am still batting 100% in my attempts to not get mashed by a Chinese speed-racer.

I'm really looking forward to November & December. I hope that these months are what dreams are made of, since I really paid my dues. Dealing with such adversity has made me realize how important it is to maximize my experience here, so I have decided to stay until the end of the year and really ramp up my Chinese lessons at three hours a day starting next week. I'm even contemplating doing some job interviews, so that I can have a contingency plan if I cannot get a good job after finishing my MBA at Pepperdine. Judging by the Scud missile's descent of the stock market, this looks to be a cold reality.

Well, I hope everyone is doing well back home. Just wanted to let the people know that Matthew S. Atkinson is once again back on top. We're not talking Mt. Rushmore, but at least some sort of a stepping stone larger than a pebble. I hope that my horrific injury will make me a better person, and I will say at the very least it has made me much more humble. I have lost my favorite hobby of playing sports, and even seeing the frequent sights of table tennis & badminton on ESPN Asia makes me cringe a little bit.

Happy late Halloween & USC Homecoming,

the no longer handicapped Matthew Atkinson

The Aftermath

After making it home from my terrible trail of tears at the Beijing United Family Hospital. I was relegated to spending a full calender week on the couch without getting up for anything but food delivery and the bathroom. There were: no showers, laughs, jumping jacks, or smiles in my week of the unforgiven. Grizzly Adams had better hygiene than me by Sunday. Upon transitioning from the powerful pain-medication at the hospital to the less-powered pills from the pharmacy I developed a fever that kept me awake all day and all night. Not once did I sleep for more than two hours, and feeling like an insomniac is no way to live. Nevertheless, I kept myself entertained with a wide collection of DVDs, and ESPN Asia's live coverage of the baseball playoffs. Since I had to keep my leg pretty much permanently iced, I had to take the entire week off of school, and at the most I ate two meals a day.

Although this was hell on Earth, in some ways it is a positive experience. If you can go through a knife-fight with a surgeon in the Orient without your close friends and family around, you can handle a lot when it comes to living/working overseas. By looking at the light at the end of the tunnel I made it through this dead week, and now the days have been getting better every day. Last week was great, as I got to see all of my friends at school and I finally felt alive again. That is until I got served again this Monday. Here is my story of more tough times in the life of Matthew S. Atkinson

9/20/08

a. I took a taxi at 5:00 PM for my doctor's appointment with the only orthopedic surgeon in this city who I trust, and who happens to only work at the hospital on Monday. My taxi driver almost crashed several times (nothing new), and drove into a random lot where he mistakenly drove down a storage ramp to a basement floor of a grocery store. My fragile knee bumped against the door and seat in front several times due to the miserable driving of a man who never should set foot in car, unless it is the back of a police cruiser. After a few more random twists and turns the taxi driver tried to drop me off at the wrong hospital in the wrong side of town (I gave him a card with name & address, and showed it to him several times as it looked that we were going the wrong way) to my dismay. After a very heated argument (hypothetically, I may have thrown a few good-old American curse words in his face) we parted ways. I was going to stiff him, but since I am not very mobile I had no choice but to pay a taxi for being dropped off in the ass end of nowhere. By the time the dust cleared it was 6:20.

b. A do-gooder expat heard the commotion and vowed to flag me down a taxi. This guy was quite the saint since getting a taxi in rush hour traffic here in Beijing is sometimes almost impossible. A few minutes later he had a taxi for me and all I had to do was climb over a two-foot wall and I'd be on my way. As the fellow Yankee helped me over the wall a well-dressed Chinese woman ran out to the taxi and raced into the passenger seat. She had been standing next to me as my taxi was being waved down, so she definitely knew what I was a cripple who needed some help. The expat who spoke fluent Chinese explained her the situation as the taxi stalled and waiter for us, that I was late for my doctor's appointment and that this was an urgent matter. Nevertheless, the woman heard us out and told the taxi to go anyways. I am leaving this other taxi driver out of this who is also a son of a bitch, but not nearly as bad as the rest of those in the story.

c. I finally made it to the doctor's appointment thirty minutes late. It took me another twenty minutes to find a taxi, but we made short time and were there by 7:00. My doctor said to just sit back and relax as he was just going to fix my bandages and "take a look". I was looking forward to just getting on with my day, as there seemed to be not much on the agenda. The next thing I know there a collection of knives and other horrible metal devices last seen in the movie "Hostel" are for some reason laying right beside my leg. Soon thereafter blood is gushing from my leg like a fire hydrant. The doc just so happened to "forget" to tell me that he would be ripping out a piece of metal the size and shape of a fish hook that had previously been sealing my wound. As I howled in pain the doctor was unfazed, and his ceaseless ripping and pulling with strange painful devices lasted for another ten minutes of pure hell. After getting another slashing, the doctor then pushed and pulled my leg in ungodly directions until I was on the verge of throwing up.

So who is worse?
A. The taxi driver who drove me to hell, collected money he knew he didn't deserve, and made so many wrong turns that my knee was swollen by the time I made it to the hospital.

B. The unethical Chinese vixen (bitch) who knew exactly how dire my situation was, but still stole my rush-hour taxi without batting an eye-lash.

C. Or the doctor who gave me no inkling that today's appointment would be so incredibly painful that I actually screamed in pain. The embarrassment of coming out the door and having every single person in the hospital stare at me as if I was the exorcist was not the most pleasant feeling in the world.

From the Orient with no love,

Atkinson

I HAVE LIVED IN HELL: My 4-day Stay at Beijing Family United Hospital VOLUME 1

I used to have pride, respect, maybe even a little bit of integrity. If you like laughing at other people's mystery this is right up your alley.


So I was coming home in a taxi today and low and behold my old friend Colonel Sanders was holding court with a line of Chinese chicken-chompers all the way out the building. I remember the days when I used to walk into see my life-long friend "The Colonel" and was able to pick and choose between a list of delectable fried creations complete with eleven herbs & spices. These days are long gone my brethren, as I have recently been told that going up and down stairs will be a novelty that I will only reach with luck on the coming Halloween.

On the Friday morning of my surgery I courageously decked myself out in only the finest of clothing in preparation for one-on-one combat with a Chinese knife-fighter: USC shirt, USC jacket, Adidas pants, socks with sandals which is only cool in the Orient and the Midwest. After reaching my battleground I filled out all the papers and soon found myself wearing a purple Moo-Moo with no underwear, socks, or well anything. After getting my tie tied, I was strapped down to the gurney and my veins were opened up with a needle that would be connected to my wrist for the next four days. Well sort of, since it took them three times to actually find the right vein, and being a man who hates needles and blood more than I hate admitting that West Virginia really is a legitimate United State this was not the confidence non-booster that I needed going into my battle royale...

After being wheeled up to the war-room I was soon greeted by my Chinese surgeon and about ten other Chinese men & women all with scary looks gloves and masks. My arms were extended like a crucifix and I was shot up with enough anesthesia to put a herd of wildebeest to sleep for a few weeks. I remember waking up and the staff looking at me with puzzled faces as if to think, "is he still alive". I instantaneously was in a state of shock and was unable to speak; however, I eventually put together the mental fortitude to extend a thumbs up; which in turn inspired one of the nurses to stick an oxygen mask about halfway down my throat.

A few hours later I was in the room where I would spend the next 72 hours, and not only would I never leave the room, but I wouldn't leave my bed during these dark days. I had a TV, DVD player, a lifetime supply of morphine and about ten or so friends who made it out to visit me during the worst weekend of my life. I had no idea that I had a DVD player, so I was subject to the movies chosen by the hospital, and there were some of the worst movies chosen this side of "The Full Monty". To this day I do not know what I would have done had the first full season of "Las Vegas" (I give two very shaky thumbs up to this selection) not been present to keep my entertained.

I was given few instructions if any, mainly to push the morphine button (which was white) if I felt pain) & to push the help button (which was red). Over the next few days I pushed the red button quite a few times, but that white button got pushed more times than a brunette in a school filled with gingers trying to compete for the spot of "Annie" in the big play. It got to the point where I started to get double vision like I had drank a couple bottles of Popov Vodka. My brain constantly played tricks on me as I saw things that I knew were not really there. Nevertheless, the pain in my knee never stopped hurting the entire time. This was due to the fact that I had a piece of metal inserted into my torn ACL ligament, and most doctors can tell you that this surgery is on their top ten list of surgeries that will make you want to cry. And I will be honest, I did...

By the second day I finally got the funny feeling that it was time to go to the bathroom, and I had my Chinese friend Lucy (who stayed with me for almost the entire four days, and whose kindness I will never forget) interpret my quandary to the nurse. Soon thereafter I was given a blue bucket contraption that looked more like what somebody might use to water their flowers with, and as Lucy left I reluctantly tried to get down to business. Problem is, the drugs that had invaded my system had seriously screwed up my urinary tract and after a half hour of going after it, I had not even drained a drop in my most unsavory of bathroom devices. The nurse barged it while I was still trying to handle my business and she was not at all satisfied with my efforts, and soon enough I had another substance injected into my veins which was supposed to help me with this or something or other. This helped me to be able to fill the bucket when need-be, but this act became very tiresome very quickly. I felt like a dolphin at a theme park doing my famous trick every time that I had to use the bathroom. And the Chinese nurses would literally clap when I was able to perform. I now know what these poor dolphins go through, and will never go to "Sea World" again.

In a weekend full of horrible events, I have to say that the sponge baths I would get in the mornings were my least favorite. Since getting off of my bed was an impossibility, I was sponged off by middle-aged Chinese nurses with bad teeth who ferociously scrubbed at my various body parts like they were working at a car wash full of trucks that had just finished a road rally. I wanted to shove them off of me and be left alone, but I had no fight or might at this time like a King Cobra caught in the trance of a snake charmer. These washings would last about five minutes, but I felt like I had been scrubbed to death for hours.

The following two days were somewhat of a blur. I would wake up at random times throughout the day, to find: a horrible plate of food that I would have thrown out the window if I had the power to do so; a group of nurses looking at me with with sad looks making me wonder whether I was ever going to get out of this hospital; and finally a doctor who had the physical prowess of a duck-billed platypus who eventually gave me my marching orders. As the doctor helped pull me off the bed I soon realized that my right leg had lost any muscle mass that it once had, and I felt like I was trapped in quick sand. I was outfitted with a pair of crutches and my first stroll down the hall resulted in a crash with one of the nurses, who was less than impressed with my navigational skills.

After a taxi ride home I was finally out of the castle of doom and my couch became my savior. This concludes the 4-day stay in my own personal house of horrors. Not as much fun as the four-day weekender trips I used to take to San Francisco, when USC played Cal or Stanford back in my undergraduate days of grace.

don't break a leg,

The Crippled Warrior

Getting the Knife in the Orient

Before I came out to China my university forced me to endure an all-day "Made for Morons Marathon" of videos, speeches, and dumbed-down documents specifically geared to get you ready for the worst possible things that could happen to you in a foreign country. Such gems like don't eat a raw chicken; don't buy drugs in a dark alley from a menacing man holding a crow bar; or make sure to have a passport (WOW! I never would have known this guys...gee thanks) were instructed to me with the utmost seriousness.

BUT THEY NEVER TOLD ME WHAT DO IF I TEAR MY ACL IN A SOCCER GAME IN CHINA!!!
You would have thought with all the useless jargon that was thrown my way like a flamethrower on a pile of gasoline, that maybe serious knee injury would have made it on the list. But not so much... Medical insurance...check. But how to handle dealing with a hospital where the native language is not English, or how to stumble into class on-time when a sloth could beat you in a foot race; or how to walk down a dangerous street by yourself when a girl scout could literally put you down for the count with one tiny shin kick.......these things were not explained to me in vivid detail. Throw in a worrying Mom who probably can't sleep; insurance policies that are as ambiguous as Clay Aiken was a week ago; ten different people telling you ten different ways to handle your looming surgery; and a bunch of nervous Chinese women who will not give you five minutes to forget about your potential knife fight with a Chinese surgeon. And this my friends...this is culture shock times ten~!!!

SO now that I have vented let me explain some of the humor for you all to laugh at, as there is a funny story behind all of this. My study-abroad school rocks. Sorry to my current scholarly employer, but if I had it my way I would finish my studies out here. It is the Harvard of China, and the school is a marvelous creation with all kinds of weird things. Moats of green sludge that zig-zag in every which way, big buildings that look like they were designed during the Middle Ages, thousands of Chinese students on bicycles who are constantly almost crashing into each other. This is home.

My classmates are mostly cool and range in nation of origin from Spain, to Norway, to Argentina, to Cameroon. There is a constant supply of sports going on around here, and since I am liking a dog whose mind automatically forgets about everything else when a soccer ball is kicked, I have been on the pitch all of the time. After trying out for an MBA team I awkwardly ended up kicking it around with the actual university team, and after a few practices with the university team, I actually found myself playing for my university team in a real game. This Spaniard (who probably was kicking a futbol as soon as he exited the womb) and I made the A-Team, and in our first game the ludicrous coach who shouts at us in Chinese like we are a bunch of Samurai warriors put us both in the game (on a side-note, I did not start, nor was I the first off of the bench). Our team got scored on twice faster than some of the Chinese hookers at the KTV's, and all of the sudden I found myself leading the charge and playing far better than I ever have in my life. Since the average Chinese athlete weighs about the same as most American ten year-olds I was able to really push the other team around, and won almost every header. At the end of the second half I almost scored on a diving header, and after the half the coach sang my praises. I was high-hived by all of the other players on the team, as I had finally gained their respect and it looked as if I would finally be a college athlete. When I went to undergrad I wrestled with the idea of playing soccer at a smaller school instead of going to USC... So this was kind of like me riding some sort of dream that only the world's biggest dorks would have. Most people want to be CEO, a famous actor, the Prez. I just wanted to play university soccer. We're not even talking about Hoops. But hey, for me this was a big deal and I was pretty fired up.

For some strange reason I found myself jogging out for a third half of action, even though this makes no sense it seemed completely normal at the time. Five minutes later I found myself twisting my knee in every which way, and hearing a "pop" which generally means that you are completely screwed...I know, because I am. So that was my college soccer career. I played one game, scored zero goals, zero assists, I did commit a few fouls, and that's all she wrote. This "pop" was my ACL, and this ligament will keep me from playing active sports for the next six months. I have never had a serious injury in my entire life, and I can at least take solace in knowing that I earned it on the field of battle. Not a bad story to tell, I could have done in practicing tai-chi or worse. I have been playing sports for twenty years so I was do, and I am not mad at anyone or anything. It is certainly a glove in the face, but I'm moving on. This will give me more time to meet people and get my school work done, and I should be able to swim within a few weeks.

Well, I gotta eat now. My surgery is in fifteen hours, and I am supposed to fast for twelve. I will be in the hospital for two days, and if things go well I won't miss a day of class.

the soon to be knifed,
Matt Atkinson

P.S. The USC football loss has not made this any easier. And I was able to find a good hospital where my insurance covers 70% of the surgery.