Discharge and Becoming Just Like Keith Richards - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 9

The previous installment of this series is here: Meetings, Matsuri Festivals and the Future - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 8 )

The day of my discharge was just like any other day. I woke up at 6 and then made my bed and went to breakfast. Everyone knew I was getting discharged and they all treated me like the "Birthday Boy" which, in a sense, I guess I was.

After breakfast I met with Doctor Watanabe and the kindly old nurse. Doctor Watanabe had helped me to to arrange for weekly counseling once I was out of the hospital, which I went to for two years religiously, and he was there to give me some final words of encouragement.


He shook my hand and said to me, "I never want to see you back here again. Now you have a wonderful wife and a wonderful family and a good job. Make sure you keep them." I thanked the doctor for all his good help and then thanked the nurses.


For my friend Rusulan, who had no family to visit (and, I'm sure the hospital would not allow any more visits by his girlfriend) I gave my drinking cup. This might seem a strange present, but all ones possessions were provided by family. I had asked my wife to give me a good drinking cup that had a lid on it. Rusulan had nothing so I gave him mine.


I said to the nurse, "Tell Rusulan to leave this place as soon as he can and good luck."


With that I said my final "Goodbyes" and I was out the door. It was good to be alive.


The first place I had to visit was the shoes shop across the street from the hospital. It was an old mom and pop store. When the owner of the store greeted me at the entrance he looked down at my shoes and saw that I had no shoelaces. He knew exactly what that meant. I was, at first, embarrassed, but he smiled broadly at me and said, "Congratulations! I know exactly what you need!"

I reckoned he did know exactly. He must have seen a thousand people before me who walked in just like me without shoe laces too. He knew they had just been released from an ordeal at the hospital across the street. After I paid for my shoe laces he sat down with me and while I laced one shoe, he laced the other for me. As I walked out I thanked him and he wished me "Good luck."


My next stop was a few shops down and it was a corner sushi shop. I was dreaming of sushi! Funnily enough, for some reason, I had cravings for natto sushi. I ordered three rolls of that and off I went to the train station.


Everything seemed fresh and new. I was able to see things just like when I first came to Japan. The surroundings were an interesting view in every direction and the air smelled fresh. Finally, I walked to a cheap haircut barber shop and got my hair cut for ¥1,000 (about $10). Then I was on the train, eating natto rolls and heading home.


It was nice to get back home and I can honestly say that I have never been back to Matsuzawa hospital nor have I done any speed again. The weird thing is that I haven't had the desire. I was diagnosed with Bi-polar disorder and then given drugs to control it. Strange, it was. As soon as I began the counseling and the therapy, I was a very happy person!


There was one last thing, though, about this entire episode that I would like to relate about what a twisted world we live in. I have worked in the music business since 1978. In that time I can honestly say that I personally have known several people who have died from drug over-doses or committed suicide. I also cannot count how many people I've know who were arrested and spent time in jail for drugs or drug possession related offenses; that includes Japan and the United States. I even know a few people who, at one time were on top of the world, their show business career's a smash success, only to have a drug arrest or similar episode ruin their career overnight.


It is always a big story whenever a TV star or a famous musician is busted for some drug offense. 


But like the old story about cockroaches; If you find one in the kitchen, it's a sure bet that there are hundreds, if not thousands, more around it. 

There is never just one

When I returned back to the radio station, I had my head low and was ready to apologize for inconveniencing my staff and the station Program Director (PD). I opened the door to the office and the looked up at me. Normally he would scowl and treat me poorly, but on this day, no! On this day, he smiled broadly and ran to shake my hand.


"Wow! Mike! You are so cool! You are just like Keith Richards, man! Wow! I so envy you!" He was serious! He was beaming from side to side and I almost thought he was going to ask me for my autograph!


Just then, several others saw me too and they joined into slapping me on the back and adding the "Wow! Cool! I wish I could do that!" type of comments.


I thought they were nuts. But I know well what they are doing and I know very well what goes on in the "dark side" of show business. I know that they, too, have thought many times, "Do I need help?"


There's a reason why they say, "Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll."

But I thanked them all and I was relieved that they didn't think poorly of me because of it. To this day I am astounded how they think going through something like the troubles Keith Richards did with drugs, arrests, rehab, etc. is "cool!" 


There are many people around you and me who have trouble with some sort of sickness or addiction. And they need help and understanding. First off, people need to understand exactly what an addiction is. 


Please refer to What is an Addiction? This is a post I wrote a while back so I'd like to quote it at length: 

I "graduated" from Matsuzawa Hospital. Matsuzawa is the oldest and most famous drug and alcohol rehabilitation hospital in all of Asia. It is said that if you can graduate from Matsuzawa that is equal to the level of graduating from Japan's number one university: Tokyo University.

I did that. And I had some of the best and most famous doctors as teachers in all of Japan. Let me tell you what Dr. Watanabe taught me when I was at Matsuzawa Hospital.

Of course, there are many kinds of addictions and I believe they all stem from different reasons that have to do with different personality types of people and psychological causes... But there is one thing about all addictions that is common: Addictions are not the problem of alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex or whatever. Addiction is not a problem of the substance abuse in and of itself... Addiction is a problem of human communication.

For example, drug addiction is not a problem of drugs. Drug addiction, like all addictions is a problem of human relations. This is the part about addictions that people fail to recognize for what it is. Drug addiction, like all addictions become a problem when they start to interfere with your human relations and communications with the people around you.

There will be many people who will scoff at this, but ask any professional doctor who deals with addictions and they will say what I am about to partake to you is true: In the case of, say, drugs consider; You could go live on a desert island, all by yourself, and do speed and heroin or LSD everyday from morning until night, everyday of the year, for years on end and you would not be called a drug addict. 

That's true. You could do, say, heavy psychedelic drugs everyday 24/7 and yet you would not be considered a drug addict. You would, most surely, be a heavy drug abuser and have many problems, but you wouldn't be considered a drug addict. 

The term "drug addict" would not be applied to you until your drug abuse became a problem with your relations and communication with the people around you... No people around you? Then it's no problem.

You know, there are drug abusers and alcohol abusers all around us. Many people are abusing illicit drugs but the biggest problem in our society today is the massive abuse of prescription drugs, over-the-counter medicines. 

Different chemicals affect different people differently (I include alcohol in the term "chemicals"). In the case of alcohol, consider: There are many people who can have a drink of scotch and go to work, no problem! I even know people who have a bottle in their desk and they seem to function normally. I've always admired and envied those kinds of people. I can't do that. I am the personality type that is either sober or drunk. So I do not drink at all before work is over... Even one glass of beer until work is over? No way!

You see people like that in the movies. Ever seen "The Great Lebowski"? He would grab a Black Russian and head out the door for whatever adventure he was on at the moment... People like that are cool, I think. Me? If I had the one drink, I'd lose all desire to do anything but sit down and vegetate and drink more. The one drink would make me useless. I'd stop working and could probably only have fun and function with other people who are drinking.

Anyway, like I said, different chemicals affect different people in different ways. Upon drinking some people get happy (that's me) and start singing (that's me too!)... Others get melancholy; some get aggressive and want to start fighting; others start to cry; some fall asleep! There are many types of people and many types of chemicals so it is obvious that there are many different ways these chemical react in each person's brain.

This is the great misunderstanding about "Drug addict" or "Alcoholic." Some people can do drugs or drink everyday and function normally in a normal society (if you can call our modern society "normal" but that is a different subject).

Just because your spouse or co-worker drinks everyday, doesn't mean that they are a alcohol-addict. The moment their drinking starts to affect their home life or work or relations with other people, that's the moment then they can be labelled to have a "problem". 

There are people around us right now who are doing drugs (legally or illegally) and, not to make judgements on morality as that is not my issue here, but if they can function normally, then they haven't a problem.

Then there are others. Most of us, like me, either abstain or we have a problem. When you look at it like this, it is pretty "Black and White". 

Now that I understand and recognize drug and alcohol addiction for what it is, I can cope and control myself. I never do drugs, no longer wish to yet I drink often...But since I understand what I am dealing with, my drinking never conflicts with work nor does it make it a problem at my home.

Trust that I, like many others, have had problems at home with drinking too much... It hasn't happened recently... Understanding these problems for what they are cannot allow me to say that they will never happen again. No one knows the future, but.... Hopefully, as we get older, we get wiser.

Understanding what addiction is and what it really means can help people to control their behavior better... It can also help those who live with such a person to know how best to handle the situation and where to seek help.

There are many people around you and me who have trouble with some sort of sickness or addiction. And they need help and understanding. 

Meetings, Matsuri Festivals and the Future - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 8

(Part seven of this series is here: Nowhere to Run to Nowhere to Hide - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 7)

About once a week every patient had meetings with the doctors. I never could figure out, really, what the purpose of my meetings were. There would usually be about 4 or 5 doctors sitting in a room and they would call you in. It was always a cordial affair for me but I can imagine that some of the other patients would make the meetings antagonistic.

In my case, it was always questions about how I felt and how I was doing. My answers were nearly always the same: I'm fine coupled with; when do you think I can I go home?


Sometimes they'd sit me down and ask me all sorts of questions that seemed to have nothing at all to do with my current situation. The questions were frustrating and, I realized later, that generating frustration might have the purpose of the entire line of questioning. I think, perhaps, the doctors wanted to see if you could keep your cool or how fidgety or irritable you'd get.


I could never figure out why, for example, they'd want to know if I had ever been to Italy before or if I liked pizza better than spaghetti... Who knows? Maybe it was all just small talk after all.


Besides these meetings, as I mentioned before, sometimes one or two of the doctors would sit in upon my visits with my wife. Of course, not the entire visit, just for a while and with our permission.


At the very last of these meetings, soon after they requested that my wife curtail her visits, the top doctor of the entire rehabilitation ward showed up. His name was Doctor Tanaka. I heard that he was (and probably still is) one of the most famous doctors for this sort of thing in all of Japan. Doctor Tanaka was there along with my regular doctor and a a male nurse and one of the kindly old female nurses. 

Not my doctors... But you get the picture

Forgive me for not introducing my regular doctor to you until now. His name didn't seem important then, but his name was Doctor Watanabe. Doctor Watanabe was a very good doctor and a nice guy. It was his shoes that I saw the first time when I was in the cooler. It was him who was the one who first asked me if I was alright. 


It was my final meeting with the doctors, I didn't know it at the time, my wife was also was present. So, in total, there were doctors Watanabe and Tanaka, and one of the kindly old lady nurses and a male nurse sitting in as observers and my wife.


Of course, since I did not know that this was my final meeting, I didn't expect anything different from the few times we had such meetings before. I'd find out much later, long after this meeting was over, that it was very much dependent upon my wife's opinion if I were to be released or not. As I mentioned before, the doctors wanted me out of there as soon as possible. The reason being that, from their experience, they knew that the longer a person was inside of Matsuzawa hospital, the harder it was for them to reintegrate to society and become a productive member again. 


The doctors wanted me out. I think my wife wasn't too sure. Perhaps this meeting was for her more than me.


But, isn't that an amazing contradiction? You have to go to the hospital to do something about a chemical or alcohol addiction, but the longer you are there, the worse off you will be. I'm sure this created a huge dilemma for the doctors and the people who would be the guarantors for the people who were released. I mean, just how long is "long enough?"

The guarantors of patients to be released were usually spouses or parents or relatives who promised to look after the recovering addict and guaranteed to look after them and provide them with food, support and a place to sleep. It wouldn't do at all for the government to help someone through rehabilitation and spend all that public monies only to have that patient leave the hospital and become homeless or an extra burden on society. What would the purpose of the the entire affair have been for if that were the result? It was a government run institution so they had a system whereby they had a very high percentage of success... Or they had a good reason to believe that releasing you was a safe bet. Otherwise, why take the chance? You won't be raising hell and bothering society in D-41. 


The final meeting for me was a group discussion about whether to or not release me from the hospital's care and into my wife's care. My wife sat silent throughout most of the meeting. The doctor's kept asking me what I wanted and my answers were predictable; and stupid. I kept pleading for release like a little kid. I should have known that I needed to keep a level head and, whether I was or not, act competent enough to be released.


Finally, after going around for an hour, the head doctor, Doctor Tanaka seemed like he had heard enough. With an extremely serious scowl he pointed his finger straight at me and said, 


"Rogers san, if I order your release today, do you promise me that you will never, ever do any drugs again as long as you live?" 


The question caught me off guard. I wanted to jump out of my seat and yell, "Of course! Never again! You kidding me?" But, I sank back, instead, towards the back of my chair. Everyone in the room was staring right at me. I looked at them all. In my paranoia, I thought, "Is that a trick question?" From trading stocks and financial instruments, as well as being an avid reader of Hemingway and the likes, I knew that no one can predict the future. I was sure that this was, indeed, a trick question. I gathered my thoughts and slowly replied,


"Do I promise to never do drugs again?..." I stalled to find the correct answer... And the room grew dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone stared at me. "Well," I continued, "No one knows what the future holds so I cannot say for sure. I cannot say exactly... I want to be happy though. I want to try to return to enjoying life and being with my family and loved ones again...." I paused...


In my mind and in my heart, I know that I am an excellent public speaker, but this time, I couldn't find the right words exactly. I knew that I had to show the frailty of humanity to these people or I couldn't garner their sympathy. Perhaps I wasn't ready for discharge, my head wasn't clear. I continued, repeating my last sentence...


"I want to try to return to enjoying life and being with my family and loved ones again.... But, like I said, no one knows the future. I think that if my entire family were killed in an accident tomorrow that I probably would be so depressed that I'd want to die and I'd probably start doing drugs and drinking and who knows what else? So, I'm sorry to say that, Doctor Tanaka, since no one knows what the future holds, I cannot honestly promise you that I will never do drugs again. I'm sorry." And I bowed as humbly as I could.


There was a pause and suddenly, Doctor Tanaka slapped his palm on the desk and stood up and pointed to me and said, "Release him!" and he grabbed his papers and books under his arm and then just walked out of the room without saying another word. Just like that, he was gone.

Inside my head, it was like one of those courtroom TV shows where everyone anxiously awaits the jury's verdict... The entire room holds their breath. When the jury stands up and announces the decision, "Not guilty!" the entire room erupts into chatter and the movement of chairs and smiles and handshakes. Only this time it wasn't a courtroom and I wasn't expecting any sort of decision like that at all. In my heart, I never expected that these sorts of decisions were even made in such a way at all. Doctor Tanaka's reaction came as a total surprise.


When Doctor Tanaka left the room, Doctor Watanabe came up to me and smiled and patted me on the shoulder. He said, "We'll get all the paperwork necessary for your wife and you will be home day after tomorrow." I couldn't believe my good fortune.


Inside myself I was jumping and screaming for joy like I had just won the lottery but on the outside I tried to act cool and not overjoyed. Nevertheless, I'm sure the happiness showed on my face. I'm also sure if I did jump up and down like an over-joyed eight year old, that might have been greatly frowned upon. I knew that I had to act like an adult and not my normal immature self.


My wife smiled at me and we hugged. She had to go meet the doctors to discuss some matters and sign some documents. She said that she'd leave money for me and that the first things she wanted me to do was buy some shoelaces and get my hair cut before I came home. I asked if I could buy some sushi and eat it on the way home and she laughed.


Later on, still a bit shell-shocked by what had transpired, I saw the kindly old woman nurse and asked her if she would talk to me for a few minutes. She agreed and I asked her why, all of a sudden, Doctor Tanaka agreed to release me at the meeting a few hours before. She told me,


"I have seen Doctor Tanaka ask that very same question to over one thousand patients before you, Rogers san, and you are only one of about two or three who ever gave the correct answer. Most times the doctor will ask that question and nearly everyone answers like a ten-year-old boy; they all swear to god that they will never ever do drugs again. But, when you stop to think about it, it is as you answered, Rogers san, no one knows what the future holds. To make a promise that you will never ever do something again is foolish and immature. Only a child would make such a promise. So many before have made that promise and they all wind up staying for another month or two or even more..." She smiled at me. 


"Thank you," I said to her. In my mind I thought about how she always did extra things for the patients like bring flowers to the ward and tend to the garden in her break time. "What a kind person this woman is..." I thought.  


The next morning, my final day at D-41 was the day of the "Matsuri" (festival). There were several young college student interns who were volunteering to help at D-41 over the time I was there and it was their duty to help out where ever possible and to make life a bit more enjoyable for the patients. 


They had received permission from the doctors to hold a small Matusuri in the fenced off D-41 garden area. I wasn't so enthused about this event because I was counting the seconds towards my discharge and that completely occupied my entire mind. Even so, each patient, yours truly included, was assigned a job. There was duties that involved making Yakitori (chicken on a stick), cooking  other sorts of festival delights, manning booths, and cooking Yakisoba. It wasn't a large affair, but just a nice time for the patients to go outside, sit under a tree, enjoy the grass and the birds singing and spend a short time remembering the wonders of freedom and how much they are missing. 


I was to help with decorations, which I did, and also to help with cooking Yakisoba. Yakisoba is noodles, mixed with vegetables and friend on a flat pan. It is a staple at all festivals all over Japan.


I've never liked it particularly. In fact, I could say that I had always hated it.


I have never cooked Yakisoba before so was very hesitant to do so. I thought it would never do for me to muck up such an important part of the festivities. I protested a bit, but when I went to the Yakisoba booth and saw two of the old timers cooking up Yakisoba, they so touched my heart. Here they were patients of this hospital with nowhere to go and no future, but they were eagerly and enthusiastically cooking the Yakisoba for everyone. I could tell by the expression on their face that they were thinking, "This is going to be the best Yakisoba ever made!"

They seemed so very happy to have, if even for a few minutes, a useful purpose in life. One of the gruffy old guys who had never even seemed to notice me before looked right at me and smiling said, "Welcome! Delicious Yakisoba! Won't you try some?" as if he were really in a real Matsuri in a real Yakisoba stand. I smiled and said, "One please!" I threw them a ¥100 coin and had some Yakisoba. It was the best Yakisoba I had ever eaten in my life.


Since that day, I have come to enjoy Yakisoba. I will never forget the face of that old guy giving his all for that one moment of enjoyment for everyone. I hope he is doing well.    


I would be out of D-41 the next morning. I could hardly wait. Oddly enough, though, I wasn't even out of D-41 and was already beginning to miss the place.




(Part 8 of this series is here: Discharge and Becoming Like Keith Richards - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 9  http://bit.ly/ytIi68)

Nowhere to Run to Nowhere to Hide - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 7

(Part six of this series is here: Teenage Jesus Pours Vodka on Cornflakes & Listens to Metallica! He Really Does! - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 6)

Rusulan was gone!  My best friend in the hospital had made a daring escape with his high school Japanese girlfriend and everyone envied him and wanted to be just like him. I envied him because he had a pretty high school girl as a girlfriend. Everyone else envied him because he escaped. Funny the weird priorities people have! Nevertheless, we all cheered him on and wished him well.


I knew I'd never see him again.

Is it better to live a long boring life or a short exciting one? (Especially if that short exciting one involves running around with a sexy Japanese high school girl?)

I suppose now that I should take a moment to explain about the rules at the hospital for someone who enters then escapes. I mentioned before that, at that time, one could join into the drug rehabilitation program and be admitted into the hospital for treatment, but there were a few "catches." The biggest catch being that one wasn't allowed to leave until the doctors said "OK!" This is because Matsuzawa wasn't a private hospital, it was government run. That meant that it was really inexpensive and there were lots of people trying to get in (still are) but can't because of a long waiting list. Staying in a hospital -any hospital - costs lots of money. If it were a private hospital and you paid them $15,000 a month, they probably wouldn't say "no!" if you wanted to come and go as you wish.  


Back in the heyday of the Japanese bubble economy, cash was over flowing. I reckon that this made the government take a very charitable view of people who wanted to stop any dependence on drugs. Hence, it was basically free to stay in a drug rehab ward in a public hospital. Since everyone in Japan knew of the reputation of Matsuzawa and that many famous Japanese had come and "graduated" there, it didn't hold such a negative stigma as smaller, less well-known hospitals did. So that made it really difficult to get in. That I got in was simply blind luck and incredible timing (maybe they had a foreigner shortage)!


Think about this: I got my own bed, care by several nurses and doctors, three meals a day and treatment at one of the most famous drug rehab hospitals in all of Asia and it cost only about $10 a day! I hear that rehab centers in the west cost $10,000 a month and more. Rich movie stars and musicians pay in the neighborhood of $25 ~ $50,000 a month (and then wind up never being cured).


But the great care at an unbelievable price was the tradeoff. The public run hospital will take care of you and make it super cheap for you and your family for you to stay there, you just don't leave until the hospital says you can. It is the agreement that nearly everyone, who was a patient at Matsuzawa hospital, made.


That being said, this also meant that they weren't really going to send the police off after you if you decided that you've had enough and escaped. The rules were that they'd make it difficult for you to escape, but if a patient did escape from Matsuzawa hospital and didn't harm anyone in doing so, and could "stay escaped" for one week,  they would not come looking for you as they considered your "project" over budget! That means that if you escape and stay "escaped" for one week, they'd give up on you. I also imagine that this would mean that if you escaped and didn't come back that, later on, if you did want back for treatment, they'd decline you. So you'd be best to make up your mind. I found these rules to be quite curious!


Understanding this, if you can, should require much consideration by anyone if they want to enter that hospital in the first place. It is not a decision to be made lightly and, in Japan, as with many things like this, is a decision made with the consultation of immediately family or parents. 


But paperwork and details can be such a boring task and so tedious, especially compared to the goings on back at D-41... 

At breakfast everyone was abuzz with the news of Rusulan's escape. How did he do it? When exactly did this happen? Tell me more! Of course with all the chatter and the lack of actual facts, the story got wilder and wilder as the day went on.


While not nearly as exciting as what everyone was imagining of a well-planned and organized escape, what I gathered that had happened, after getting many versions, and made the most sense to me, was that his girlfriend showed up in a taxi at the hospital that day. Then she told the driver to wait - not an unusual occurrence - and the driver would not be suspicious - as people are often using taxis to pick up loved ones at the hospital upon discharge. She then went to meet Rusulan and, once meeting him, they acted as calm and nonchalant as possible and, instead of a mad dash to the cab, they simply walked to the taxi, got in, closed the door and off they went; the two love birds and escapees gone! Not even raising a single eyebrow of suspicion. The driver would probably not think anything was amiss because he's probably picked up people in pajamas at the hospital a hundred times before.


Once in the car it was probably wine and roses for the young desperadoes as off they sped - not a care in the world. I suspected that I'd never see or heard about Rusulan again. I figured he was long gone never to be seen again.


The excitement was anti-climatic back inside of D-41. There was nothing more to it than what had already been said. The excitement soon wore off by mid-morning and the slow boredom of the days returned. The rest of the day, like all the others that came before that one at D-41, passed by uneventfully. The TV played; patients stood around and smoked cigarettes; we ate lunch, then brushed our teeth and readied for bed. Even though nothing had happened to me, I was happy that Rusulan had made his getaway. I wondered if he and his girlfriend would get married someday?


Tired from the events of the day, when "lights out" came at 8 pm, I went to sleep immediately. As they say, "snug as a bug in a rug." I slept well as I was satisfied.


In the middle of the night, as I usually do, I awoke to go to the bathroom and have a glass of water. I walked past the nurses station and the single light bulb above it and the low hum of some machinery in the distance breaking the dead silence of the night. I stood there for a few moments drinking in the atmosphere and the silence. I wondered about my friend Rusulan. I finished my water and went back to bed.


The next morning, to my great surprise and utter shock, though, D-41 was again abuzz with news! I sat up in my bed and my room mate looked at me and exclaimed, "Rusulan's been captured! Rusulan's been captured! He was caught last night!" I couldn't believe it!


"So fast? That's impossible! How could that have happened?" Once again the stories were spread like wildfire.


I could picture the entire episode in my head: Immediately after their escape, Rusulan and his girlfriend went straight to a dingy and dirty hotel room that was to be their hiding place for the next weeks. After cooking up a little something to eat in the kitchen, along with a few drinks, they began to argue and start blaming each other for the miserable predicament they found themselves in. As the fighting got more and more heated, in a rage, she began throwing things around in the room. 

This actually looks like Rusulan sort of...

"Stop it!" Rusulan orders. But she doesn't stop. 


"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" She screams. Rusulan suddenly grabs her as she is about to throw more dishes his way. Tightly, in his arms, she shouts as she then begins to beat on his chest.


Rusulan then lifts her into the air with his powerful arms and off her feet. Their eyes meet and suddenly they begin to kiss deeply and passionately on the lips. Soon, he throws her onto the bed and, unable to control their savage sexual desires any longer, they rip each other clothes off and dive into a unstoppable orgy of teenage lust. 


It is dark and hours later. They are both exhausted. She turns over in bed and lights a cigarette then heads to the shower. Rusulan is still fast asleep.


But unknown to the teenaged fugitives, as the hot water of the shower greets the tender young and sexy flesh of our nubile Japanese high school girl heroine, there are a dozen SWAT team policemen silently climbing to stairs to the hotel room. Someone has tipped off the police. On the street there are another two dozen or so more police and the building is surrounded. There will be no escape this time. 

Suddenly, with the swift kick of a policemen's boot, the door smashes open and a shock grenade is thrown into the room. Bang! All hell breaks loose as smoke fills the room and, within a split second, all the policemen are inside and shouting at people, "Freeze!" The girl tries to get a towel over her wet and naked body as two police men order her to the floor and, in the bedroom, there is a half naked Rusulan, still halfway asleep in bed, with seven Swat police officers with guns point blank at his head. The lead policeman cracks a sideways grin as he shoves his revolver up against Rusulan's cheek. He laughs and says, 


"We've been looking for you!... Don't move!.." Within minutes both the girl and Rusulan are in handcuffs and within seconds after that, Rusulan is back in custody.


...Well, at least that is what I had imagined had happened for a few minutes of daydreaming there. The scenario I just recanted was the "made for TV version" I concocted for you. The real version of what actually happened would never make it to a TV drama. No way. What actually happened was too stupid to be believed. But, I knew Rusulan, so when I heard what had happened, I thought, "Oh, yeah. That sounds like Rusulan."


What had really transpired and the facts of the escape and capture had become clear to me by breakfast. This is hilarious and, as they often say, "You just can't make this stuff up!" Truth is, indeed, stranger than fiction.


Here's roughly the truth: It seems that Rusulan's girlfriend did pick him up and they did escape in a taxi that she had waiting for them. After that, the events take a comical turn. Of course, I wasn't there in the taxi with the two when they made their getaway, but after hearing the entire story and getting verification from my doctor about Rusulan's capture, and knowing Rusulan, I have a pretty good idea of what went on.


It was like this: Rusulan told his girlfriend to bring a taxi and wait for him as he wanted out of that hospital. Of course, Matsuzawa hospital being what it is and all, it's not exactly the kind of place you go bragging to your friends about when you go in there (my case was different and I will talk about that later). So she probably wasn't too sure of why he was in there.


Anyway, she agrees to bring a taxi along and, when she visits, she and Rusulan get in and off they go. They've escaped! Free! They are on a date just like any other! Where do they want to go first? Why, where do they always go on dates? To the game center to play video games, of course! Wheeeeee!

What a romantic date!

They get to the game center and start playing. What fun! I wonder if they've bothered to stop and buy Rusulan some shoe strings for his shoes? I would imagine that they did. And what of his clothes? Aha! Rusulan planned that part! He knew that he was going to meet his girlfriend. The also told the doctors he was going to meet his girlfriend, so no one would think twice that he'd want to be at least partially presentable and be wearing regular street clothes such as at least a polo shirt and jeans.


Once at the game center and shopping center, they have a blast. I'm sure Rusulan didn't have any money but his girlfriend loved him so much that she brought all of her money, all of it! She probably carried a grand total of about ¥5,000! A kings ransom!


After playing some games, they probably went to McDonald's and, after that, being an alcoholic and all, Rusulan wanted a drink or two. Well, as anyone whose ever spent hours on end at any game center in Tokyo knows, ¥5,000 including McDonald's and a beer or two doesn't go very far on two people.


Well all good things must come to an end. Soon, it becomes late and the girlfriend must go back home. Her parents won't like it if she is out too late and, after all, tomorrow is school. She tells Rusulan that she must go. Rusulan begs her to stay but she cannot. He asks her if he can come to stay at her house. 


"Absolutely not!" Comes the answer. Her parents would never allow that in a million years! Rusulan quickly relents and then asks her to lend him some money but she hasn't any money left, excepting ¥300 (about $2.50). She gives it to him. They kiss goodbye and give a hug and off she goes to return to the safety of her parents home.


"I'll come to visit again!" She says. (I'm sure the doctors won't be looking forward to that occasion!)

"Mata ne!" (See ya!)

Rusulan, sits dejectedly, staring off into the distance looking like he hasn't a friend in the world. Shortly, Rusulan will take the last coins he has and buy a small can of alcohol that won't last 15 seconds as he chugs it down like a Shinkansen bullet train heading through a tunnel for Osaka. Zoooooooom!


He throws the can down and his stomach growls. A few hours later is it 10 pm and very dark. It is also getting cold and Rusulan hasn't a jacket either. He is also famished. 


Well, that's how I envisioned what happened to Rusulan up until that point. Being cold and starving does something strange to people. It kicks in a self-preservation instinct. Suddenly, for Rusulan, things back at D-41 didn't seem so bad after all. His impending capture is something that I needn't imagine nor create a secnario in my head. It seems that Rusulan was captured late at night back at the hospital grounds!

This guy has it right: You're supposed to think about how to break OUT of these places, not break IN!

While Rusulan was actually trying to break back into the hospital by prying open the bars to the D-41 cafeteria from the outside, some doctors passing by saw him. It was probably the first time in history anyone ever was caught trying to break-in to the hospital. Up to then, it was always the other way around.


"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" The doctors said. 


And with that Rusulan was back in custody and back in the cooler.


It all now made sense to me why the hospital didn't really bother with a massive manhunt whenever anyone escaped from Matsuzawa hospital. After all, experience showed; they weren't really going anywhere nor did they have someplace to go.


The fact that Rusulan escaped from the hospital and then was able to actually walk back, showed that, once in Matsuzawa hospital and D-41, there really was nowhere to run for most people.


As I suspected, though, I'd never see Rusulan again. Though I did not yet know it, I was about to be released. Rusulan was sent to solitary confinement at the cooler.

(The next part of the series is here: Meetings, Matsuri Festivals and the Future - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 8)

I Was an English Teacher in a Japanese Insane Asylum - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 2 (Life in D-40)

I should have entitled this blog post, "I was a Teenage Monster English Teacher in a Japanese Insane Asylum..." But, nah. That would have sounded like I was teaching at public school.

(This is part two of a series about my experiences in drug rehab in Japan. To read the first part, please refer to: Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 1 (Life in the Cooler) Upon Arrival to Rehab Everyone Must Detox in the Feared Cooler.)


Lots of good folks teach English is Japan. I did too many years ago. I did it during the heyday of the bubble when English teachers were earning $50,000 (USD) a year doing that job.


Not only have I taught English to kids, businessmen and office workers. I have taught English at insane asylums. There's not too many English teachers in Japan who can make that claim. 


.......

Maybe thirty minutes or an hour or so after the doctors left my padded cell, three males nurses came in to see me. Two of them were carrying hard rubber batons and standing. Even though they towered over me, they were not in a threatening position or stance at all. The one in the middle crouched down to me and said very kindly, 

"Mike san! We are going to take you to D-40 now; the ward with the other patients. Now, like the doctor told you, if you fight or cause trouble, we'll have to put you back in here. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand. I won't cause any trouble."

The two male nurses with the rubber batons helped me up from my seated position as it was difficult to stand since my legs were numb form all that  sitting or laying down the entire time I was there in the cooler. Then, arms under both my shoulders, they helped me stagger out of the cooler. My wife would tell me later on that I was in the cooler for a total of four days. I have repeated in this blog every recollection of my time there.

We exited the cooler and I could see that there were two other coolers next to mine. I could see into them but couldn't see any other patients. 

The walk to D-40 was a very short one. In fact, it was just up the hallway, perhaps not 10 meters. There was a glass sliding door like you'd see in front of a shower room and there we stopped for a second. The nurse repeated, "Now, don't cause trouble or we'll have to take you back to the cooler. You don't want to go back to the cooler, do you?"


"No!" I mumbled.


They opened the door. After days in the cooler, it was like a window into another world. I was standing in a black and white world and, across the threshold was a world in color. There I saw several people walking around and talking. There was a TV set on in the distance and several men were watching it. A group of other men were huddled by the window smoking cigarettes. A cleaning lady was mopping the floor. I took it all in. Humanity! Civilization!

THX exited the tunnel and came out into the natural world above ground

Have you ever seen that movie, THX1138 when, at the end of the movie, THX1138 escapes from the underground city and exits through a massive tunnel up to the surface world? Underground, There is no emotion; the civilization created by man is cold and everything is white and black. It is a suffocating environment. But when THX exits the tunnel, the bright sun is there and all the colors of nature. Birds fly by. You get the feeling that THX is Adam of the Old Testament's Genesis.


That's how I felt. I had just come from a place that was completely white and deadly silent with no life at all and just on the opposite side of a door not a skip from where I being held, life was buzzing. I was awestruck how these two seemingly totally opposite places could be so close together. When they told me that I'd go a ward called D-40, I expected a ten minute walk, through several locked gates and up and down stairs, more hallways and through guard posts. But no! It wasn't an 8 second walk.


I was back with normal people and others like me who had a drug or alcohol problem. I was back with people who I thought I could talk to and relate to.... 


Normal people, right? Normal people...or so I thought.

Soon after, my doctor and some nurses came to see me and they gave me orientation. They explained everything about Matsuzawa hospital and the ward, D-40, that was to be my home for the foreseeable future. They told me the rules for eating, socializing, cleaning up duty, everything. I was totally blown away when the doctor mentioned that "drug and alcohol rehabilitation patients are here together with patients who are suffering from schizophrenia and other mental disorders." I made a double-take. "What, doctor?" He confirmed what I thought I had heard. 


Now that scared me to death. I was thinking of that Stanley Kubrick movie the  Shining where Jack Nicholson chops his way through the door and yells, "Here's Johnny!" I almost peed my pants.


"Schizophrenic people? Crazy people*? Doc, you're kidding, right?" I knew lots of crazy people back home in Los Angeles, some of them were my friends and they were the scariest people you could know. But the doctor reassured me that it was alright. (*I was probably the craziest one there.)


"There are no violent people in this ward. Don't worry. Just mind your own business and follow the rules and everything will be fine." He said as he wrote something down on a clipboard.

I was relieved, sort of. It was better than the worst case scenario that I had envisioned. In my mind I had feared something like you see in American prison movies. You know, the new guy comes into the prison and every single prisoner suddenly stops what they are doing and silently stare at the new prisoner. Some want to kick the new boys a*s, others want him to be their sex toy; still some others want him to join their skinhead gang... But first, of course, he has to prove his worth by killing somebody. You know how in America different gangs are always joining up with each other to fight it out for territory, even in prison? That's what I feared. But it was nothing like that. No one seemed to care that the door had opened and someone new came in. They were all preoccupied with whatever it was they were doing.  


Besides the sound of the TV and people talking and smoking in the distance the only other movement was the cleaning lady. I surveyed the scene and thought, "Oh? This looks alright." Then, I looked to my right and there he was. Standing there was the guy who was going to make my life miserable in D-40. I would find out later that his name was Tanaka (not his real name). 


Tanaka wasn't a particularly big guy. He just looked like your typical Japanese salaryman. He didn't wear any glasses and he didn't smile. Actually, he looked like he was scowling all the time or that he was unhappy. I thought I could tell by his face that he was plotting something. But what?... Or was I being paranoid?

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Tanaka stood there, expressionless and stared at me. He didn't move. He just stared. I tried to act like I didn't see him and, looked right through him. As the nurses were taking me to the shower area, I sneaked a look back over my shoulder and saw Tanaka following us and staring straight at me, stone faced and not blinking. 


My heart and mood sank. Tanaka took a great interest in what I was doing. "I knew it! I just knew it!" I thought. What it was that I knew wasn't too clear to me at the time, but I was convinced that this Tanaka guy was going to make me very uncomfortable. Hell, he was making me extremely uncomfortable just by staring at me. I decided that I'd best ignore the guy... If I could.


D-40 wasn't an especially large area. There were about 40 inmates there, er, I mean 40 patients. It was a dormitory type of setup; the was a central nurse's station where patients were given roll call and daily drugs were administered to the patients. There was also a large living room area that could comfortably seat 25 men with a TV (that was constantly on) and that the patients sometimes fought over which channels to watch. If there ever was a Tokyo Giants baseball game on then the two 66-year-old guys got to watch that and no one argued with them.


That was a funny side note about those two old guys; they were like brothers. In the mornings or afternoon, they'd be fighting like little kids (they were like little kids as they had been interned since they were sixteen so they had no chance to grow mentally). Nearly everyday we could hear them fighting about this or that and really getting seemingly angry (well, as angry as old Japanese people do). But by the time the game was on air at night time, they'd be sitting side by side in front of the TV watching their favorite team, the Giants, play baseball... Just like kids. Just like brothers.


Besides the TV area there was a smoking area. This might strike westerners as unusual but, in Japan it is not. Whereas in the west, rehabilitation services might try to replace and addiction to alcohol or drugs with an addiction to god, Japan, a non-Christian nation, had no qualms about replacing drugs abuse with, well, drug abuse; namely tobacco.


I asked a doctor about this seeming contradiction once and he said to me, "Well, both smoking cigarettes and do drugs are bad for your health. But smoking cigarettes won't land you in prison." Most definitely. "Can't argue with that logic," I thought.


Aside from the smoking areas and the living room was a small cafeteria. It was just like a school cafeteria excepting each patient had an assigned seat and it was forbidden for them to move their chairs. I had the scariest looking Yakuza guy sitting in front of me. I called him "Mr. Halloween." He terrified me. He had tattoos all over him and was extremely tall and lanky like a human skeleton. The other patients seemed to be afraid of him too. He'd bark out someone's name and they'd immediately hand him all their bread every morning and he'd take it all back to his room and eat it. By the end of breakfast, Mr. Halloween would have a mountain of white bread on his tray. It seemed strange that this guy could be eating a whole loaf of bread everyday yet be skinnier than a rail! He was even more frightening when he smiled as he had lost all of his teeth excepting two and I guess that was from huffing paint thinner.


He looked at me and then looked at my bread and smiled and gave out a grunt. "Oh, sure. Here you go!" I handed my two slices of bread to him too. Like I said, for one, he scared the hell out of me and; for two, I hate white bread. It wasn't even toasted! Yeech! 


The guy wouldn't say much. Just bark out people's names. I never saw him hold a conversation but when he opened his mouth, I saw he terror of paint huffing. Huffing paint thinner will cause all your teeth to fall out. Even though everyone seemed afraid of him, he was very kind to me as, it has been my experience, that Yakuza in Japan are generally kind to foreigners. It might be the brotherly love of being an outsider in society. I was happy withe the situation and one time, when someone made a disparaging comment about foreigners at breakfast, he angrily turned around and barked at them and then he turned to me and smiled and, waving his hand, he said to me, 


"Ok! Don't mind! Don't mind!" I could see those crevices and holes in his teeth. Couple that along with his brightly colored tattoos and entire bizarre atmosphere of the place and this guy looked like he just steeped out of the set of Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas  

Mr. Halloween really was a nice guy I'd find out later. But I'd wager a half a donut that the doctor's put me in front of him and asked him if he'd look out for me. I was too dopey and incoherent to understand what he said to the others, but he laid down the law and, when he did, the chickens ruffling in their coops suddenly grew silent. I was saved. No one was going to bully me. Thank god.


And, now, back to Tanaka. Like in real life, in this blog post too, I've been trying to avoid this guy, but, I can't. He is always hovering around somehere where you least expect him. After I had entered D-40 and quickly was allowed to shower and shave I went back out to D-40. There the nurses showed me my room. I didn't see Tanaka and felt a bit relieved. 


The rooms were like a university dorm set-up. Four guys were in one room and there were all sorts of rules that we had to follow: Lights on at 6 am and everyone out of bed and to the cafeteria for breakfast. Lights out and everyone in bed at 8 pm (I had no problem with that!) Also, no one could enter someone else's room unless they were invited. There were many others rules but those were the three most important. 


I put my stuff in my room and then laid down on the cot for a few moments. I tried to sleep but couldn't. I got up and decided that I'd explore D-40. That was a mistake. Because as soon as I walked into the public area, there was Tanaka waiting for me. He was upon on me like flies on a pile of sh*t. 


I saw him as he hurredly came towards me. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. He then bowed to me and handed me the card and said, "I am Tanaka something-or-other." He then went on to tell me that he had graduated from Meiji University a very prestigious university and he "proved" it to my by showing me where that was written on his card. Confused, I accepted the card and acted like I was checking my pajama pockets for business cards and said, "Uh? I don't have any cards." He assured me that this was quite alright.


This business card exchange business really had me wondering. "Who is this guy? Does he work here or something? Is he a doctor or a doctor's assistant?"


Tanaka then invited me over to the living room where there was a table to play chess. "Would you like to pass the time by playing chess?" He asked me. I didn't really want to play chess. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to sit and vegetate but here was this guy trying to be nice to me so I said I'd play.

He was a terrible chess player. It wasn't even a contest. I beat him within 15 moves or so. After I said, "Checkmate!" He sat there for a good several minutes motionless and studying the board. With suddenness and abruptness he wiped the pieces off the board and proclaimed. "Okay. You won that time. We will play again. And, after the next game, you will teach me English."


"What!?" I thought. "No, man. I can't teach english Mr. Tanaka. I have no energy for that." I said.


"Why can't you teach me English?" he demanded, "I played chess with you." 


"Okay," I said in a flippant manner, "Here's today's English. Repeat after me: I don't want to teach English because I'm too f'ing tired."


Tanaka scowled at me and didn't repeat the sentence. Instead he said, "Why don't you teach me proper English?" 


"Look," I said, "We're in a hospital, I'm sick. You're sick. I haven't the energy to teach you anything and we have no materials or anything. I'm not going to teach English. I am here to recover not get stressed out." 


Tanaka would have none of it. He became more and more demanding. "I played chess with you and now you are not going to teach me English? You are an unfair person!"


This sort of conversation went over and over. For days he kept trying this tack. I wanted to say, "OK, Tanaka san, here's today's lesson: Why don't you get stuffed?" and left it at that. But this guy was insistent that I teach him English and he even mentioned that he was going to complain to the nurses about me. He said he was going to complain that I took advantage of him.


Finally after going back and forth for about ten minutes with this nonsense, I said, "Look, Tanaka san, I taught English for a few years in Japan. I hate teaching English. I just got out of the cooler. The last thing I want to do is to teach English to people in drug rehab at an insane asylum! Forget about it."


That didn't work either. He scowled more and became more demanding. This guy was nuts! He said, "Teach me English and I will pay you!"


"How are you going to pay me? You don't have any money!"


I can pay you after I get out of this hospital. You have my business card, don't you?"


Arrrggghhhhh! It was like arguing with a wall. I got up and said, "Sorry" and then raced back to the safety of my room. Tanaka was hot on my heels but, as soon as I got to the room, he knew the rules: No entering unless you are invited. 


This sort of thing went on my entire time in D-40 for the five days I was there. Tanaka was as persistent as hell! He just wouldn't leave me alone. Every third sentence out of his mouth was, "Please teach me English." Tanaka kept trying to get me to teach him and I kept saying, "No!" 


I must have said, "No!" 50 times a day everyday.


He would pester me in the mornings, then give up for a few minutes but be right back at it soon after. He'd try all sorts of different ways to trick me (?) In the mornings he'd ask me if I wanted to play cards or watch TV or share a snack. I'd say, "You promise you are not going to ask me about teaching you English, right?" He'd promise.


But sure as the sun would rise in east every morning, as soon as what it was that we were doing was over, he'd turn to me and say, "Please teach me English" or "If you teach me English, I will give you my white bread at breakfast" or "Okay. I won't ask you to teach me English after we play chess. So why don't you teach me English first and then we'll play chess after that."


The guy was nuts and he was driving me nuts. It figured. I was in a mental hospital. I guess it comes with the territory.


Like I said, this went on a hundred times in the short week I was in D-40. I often got so frustrated and almost angry that I wanted to complain to the doctors or the nurses but judged against it. I figured that the doctors and nurses were watching us (they were) and judging to see how we handle ourselves. That I was able to put up with Tanaka asking me the same dumb question hundreds of times without strangling him or raising my voice probably showed them that I was okay to be transferred to another ward.

On the fifth day in D-40, I woke up and all the other patients were complaining to the doctors. Word gets around fast; I was being transferred and I didn't even know about it. The other patients complained and wanted to know why they had to stay in D-40 while the new gaijin was getting transferred out so soon. They thought it was unfair!


I was happy to be away from Tanaka and English Lessons for Lunatics Book One as soon as possible.


I was told that I was to be transferred to D-41. That was a much better ward because, get this, I was told that there were "Women there!"


Jeez! What good is that going to do me? I'm a drug addict trying to recover in an insane asylum and I should be happy that there are women in my new ward!? Well, whoop-de-doo... I could imagine it then: Wild Sex Party and Japanese Insane Asylum!


Sounds like classic Japanese cinema!  




Part three of this series: Female Nurses, Schizophrenics and Jail Breaks! - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 3  http://bit.ly/xkitom