On Friday morning, I made a run for my commuter train waiting at the platform. A brief run, maybe 50 meters through the wickets, over the pedestrian overpass, down the stairs, and through the train doors to plop into the last remaining seat. I was breathing hard and feeling a bit sweaty from the humidity but overwise okay.
Twenty seconds later my head exploded.
Not literally, but it felt as if someone had taken a mallet to my forehead. I dropped my wallet and grabbed my head, probably hyperventilating and definitely moaning. I finally groped around for my wallet with one hand while hanging onto my head with the other, suddenly remembering that pop singer who dropped dead last week from an aneurysm. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to me, except maybe one woman sitting across the aisle who watched as I rocked and back and forth, wondering if I was going to pitch forward and have my existence snuffed out on the dirty floor of a Tokyo commuter train. I ws awash in a concentrated dose of nihilism about existence and consciousness, as well as wondering how long I'd be delaying the morning rush hour.
(If trains are delayed here, the station agents distribute excuse notes for commuters to give to their employers, explaining why they're late. And that's your Japanese cultural trivia for today.)
After about 5 minutes or so, the pain subsided to the point where I could function, and after determining that I wasn't dead, yet, I used my mobile phone's e-mail to send a quick message to a doctor friend in St. Louis, whom I knew was often online at that hour, describing what had just happened. I had a reply before I reached my destination:
Worst headache of your life? If yes, that is something to get checked out, and now.
Also, how long has it been since you've had your blood pressure checked? How long has it been since you've seen a doctor--and not literally, please, but really, how long since you've had a checkup?
If it was a typical headache for you except for the timing, I'd not be too worried; if it was worse than you've ever had, go get checked out now; and if it was a typical headache, but you can't remember what a blood pressure cuff looks like, or when you last kept a doctor appointment, get yourself a checkup soon.
At the office, I went to the company infirmary. The company nurse looked in my eyes, then hooked me up to an automatic blood-pressure machine, which gave me a reading of 115/85--within normal limits.
But I still felt--still feel--like hell, so I've set up an appointment with the Tokyo Medical Center in Kamiyacho on Saturday at noon. We'll see what a more thorough exam turns up.
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