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)

Teenage Jesus Pours Vodka on Cornflakes & Listens to Metallica! He Really Does! - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 6

(Part five of this series is here: Everyone is Your Teacher: Out of the Mouths of Babes Comes Great Wisdom - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 5)

I don't remember the walk to D-41, my new hospital ward, but it couldn't have been very far. When the males nurses brought me from D-40 to D-41, I was carrying my few possessions; my drinking cup, toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo and a few changes of underwear and tee-shirts. There wasn't any uniform to wear at the wards, only ones pajamas. Since at home I normally didn't use pajamas and slept in underwear and a tee-shirt all the time, I wore that at the hospital with some short pants. It was quite comfortable actually.


Before the door opened to D-41 I expected to see the same thing I saw at D-40; a bunch of people minding their own business and not really paying attention to the new patients. I wasn't as nervous as before because, as the doctors and nurses had told me, it was readily apparent that there were no dangerous or violent people in these wards at all. Everyone was crazy but they were gentle crazy and wouldn't hurt a fly. The dangerous and violent ones were kept separate.

I stood before the door of D-41 and, when they opened it, I could see at least twenty or so other patients looking straight at me. D-41 was twice the space of  of D-40 and my doctors told me that there were 60 patients there. In the back, of the people standing there looking at us, I thought I saw a very tall young man who didn't look Japanese, but I wasn't sure as I didn't have my glasses (didn't need them I thought). 


I was quite (and pleasantly) surprised to see that he was, indeed, another foreigner. What a joy! Even though I could speak Japanese, sometimes it is pleasant ( and restful to your mind) to be able to speak to others in your native tongue. Being foreigners in a foreign land he too seemed happy to have me, another foreigner, in D-41. He quickly came to greet me and shook my hand. His name was Rusulan and he was a young Russian man.


When I first saw him, I guessed him to be in his late twenties or, perhaps early thirties. But as we began to talk and I got a good up close look at him it became more and more apparent to me that this wasn't a guy who had fallen out of a job or a marriage due to addiction problems, this was only a boy! The more we talked, the more I began to think I was conversing with a person of high school age. Up close, Rusulan didn't look a day over 18-years-old, if that. He never told me his exact age but his story is unforgettable.


Rusulan had sandy blond hair and a rugged chin. He was a handsome young man and looked to be like the kind of guy you'd see in an advertisement for back-packing or camping equipment or even cigarettes. Though his face had some wrinkles, his skin had a youthful vigor to it. This is what confused me as to his age. Almost everyone who was in drug rehab in D-40 and D-41 seemed to be well over 30, though many of the mental patients were very young. Though it seemed as though Rusulan was well liked by all the other patients and staff, he seemed to me to be completely out of place here. 


Rusulan also had a very curious star shaped scar right in the middle of his forehead. After his very first greeting to me Rusulan asked me to sit down and talk so he could explain what was going on at D-41. He seemed perfectly normal (well, at first, they all do) so, after putting my stuff in my room, I sat with him to talk. We sat at a table and I could get a good look at his very glassy eyes. He looked off into the distance and pointed to the star on his forehead and said,


"See that? See that star shaped scar? That proves that I am the 'Chosen One.'" It was a statement that begged no response from me. Rusulan made it without fanfare nor exclamation. 


"Right!" I nodded my head in agreement. Rusulan's eye movement and blinking were very slow and dulled. I figured the doctors must have had him under some pretty heavy sedation. Rusulan nearly slurred his words and his movements made him look like he was slightly drunk. 

By the way, patients in the hospital, depending on their circumstances, of course, are almost always under some sort of sedation. The protocol demands  that the doctors heavily sedate people in order to prevent them from having flashbacks. Flashbacks can cause brain damage. Depending on how heavy and serious and the length of addiction, the patient's who are in extreme risk of flashbacks will be given the strongest sedation for the longest period of time. I have no idea how long Rusulan was in this situation.  


Rusulan continued to talk about the scar on his forehead. "That scar's been there since before I was born. I am the Chosen One," he added. I nodded and got a chance for a closer look at the scar. But upon closer inspection, it didn't look to be a natural scar at all. It was star-shaped for sure, but it looked like it was carved into his head by a knife... I began to suspect that Rusulan had carved it into his own forehead and that might have been just one episode and another reason why he was at Matsuzawa hospital in the first place. I can't be sure, of course, but that star-shaped scar sure looked to me like a self-inflicted wound! 


He continued on the significance of the star, "Metallica has even written a song about me because of this star on my forehead. Have you ever heard of Metallica?" He asked.


"Yes," I replied. "I've worked as a professional in radio and the music business for many years..." I tried to talk but Rusulan cut me off. I wanted to brag that I worked in radio & the music business, but Rusulan would not allow it. Of course not! Why would the second coming of Christ care whether or not this new dumb addition to D-41 had ever worked in the music business or not? Rusulan went on,


"Metallica wrote the song, 'Master of Puppets' about me. Do you know the song?"


"Yes. I answered." I was surprised. Was Rusulan saying that he knows the guys in Metallica? I guess anything is possible. I was confused. I asked, "What? Wait! You know the guys in Metallica?"


"We know of each other." Rusulan said as he gazed off into the distance.


"So, you guys have met in person? They know your family or what?" I was skeptical.


Rusulan announced, "They know me. That's why they wrote the song for me. Do you know the lyrics to 'Master of Puppets'? That's totally about me and who I am." 


"No. Actually, I don't know the lyrics." Funny, but I was embarrassed to have to admit that. It just goes to show how shallow and thin-skinned I am. Here I was trying to brag to "teenage Jesus" that I worked as a professional at a radio station and it frustrated me that he seemed like he didn't care or didn't believe me! Then he asks if I know the lyrics to a famous song but I don't. Doh!.. Some "professional DJ" eh? I felt so worthless.... 

Rusulan began to recite the lyrics of 'Master of Puppets' from memory;


"Come crawling faster, 

Obey your master, 

Your life burns faster, 

Obey your master, 

Master... 

Master of puppets, 

I'm pulling your strings, 

Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams...


"See?" Rusulan triumphantly claimed. That is proof that this was all written about me, you know that?" He pointed all around the room. "See these people? See all these doctors and nurses? They all do my bidding."


"I.... see...." I answered. 


Of course I couldn't understand the reasoning but what's the point of arguing with the guy? He was completely and totally delusional. It seemed obvious to me that this was an idea that he had been creating and believing for many years and he liked it. Talking with me for ten minutes wasn't going to change any of that!


Rusulan went on like this for twenty or thirty minutes. It was difficult to talk to him, it seemed he liked it best for someone to just listen to him so, after trying to get a few words in edgewise, or changing the subject, I gave up. Talking to Rusulan was like talking to a drunk in a bar; he is having is own conversation and wants you to join in but don't change the subject. He's got something important to tell you and he zones in and out so there's not too much point to saying too awfully much. I began to grow weary of this and asked Rusulan if he didn't mind excusing me so I could go and have a short lay down in my room. He said okay and we agreed to meet later.


I figured that poor Rusulan was in the hospital for some sort of psychosis. I would find out later that it was nothing of the sort. Nevertheless it soon became apparent that Rusulan was going to be one of my best friends in D-41 and prove to be one of the most interesting characters in my entire stay at Matsuzawa hospital... Unfortunately. 


Later on, after taking a nap, I saw Rusulan and he was quite eager to continue with our prior conversation. I wasn't particularly. Rusulan was quite pleased that he had thought he found another patient with whom he could converse with about the ins and outs of the wit and wisdom of the heavy metal band Metallica. I gathered from our conversations that he must have sat alone in his room listening to those albums, over and over, hundreds of times, by himself. Even though I knew little of the band, I had heard their songs a few times. Even with that, though, I was still head and shoulders above the competition in a Metallica trivia quiz held in a mental hospital ward filled with mostly 30 ~ 50-year-old Japanese guys whose knowledge of western music was most probably limited to the Beatles and Glenn Miller' Jazz music (as that is what was played on Red Lobster TV commercials at the time in Japan).   


Rusulan kept insisting on discussing how Metallica lyrics were written about the star scar on his forehead and this was proof positive that he was the chosen one. I think these conversations went on for a day and a half when I finally grew tired of them and decided that I should help the guy out. I knew that telling him that he was full of BS or crazy wasn't a good idea as he might get mad at me and stop talking to me... I mean, in a room full of crazy and detached lonely people, even semi-coherent conversation and spending the time with someone is better than none. I knew I had to be coy about telling him his ideas were nuts. I had an idea.


"Rusulan?" I said,


"Yeah?"


"So, this star on your forehead, this proves that you are the Chosen One, right?"


"Right!" He answered.


"Great. So now, follow me on this one, Rusulan, because I have a great idea!!! I don't know why I didn't think of it before!" 


Rusulan got all excited and crouched closer to me. "What is it? What is your great idea? Tell me!" He said.


"Rusulan, I figured a way that we can get out of here today! Right now!" I looked around to act like I was checking if anyone was watching us.


Rusulan was now just about jumping out of his chair with excitement! "How? Tell me how!" He begged.


"Well, the Chosen One is, you know, the son of God, right?"


"Yeah! Right!" He eagerly agreed.


"Well, then, Rusulan, have you ever figured out that, since you are the son of God and all, that you can do stuff like turn yourself invisible and walk through walls and probably go backward and forward in time?"


Right there I expected that he'd slap me on the back and say something like, "Aw c'mon! You're pulling my leg!" But he didn't. He seemed like he was listening intently and considering everything I was saying. He greatly surprised me when he said, 


"Yeah.... Yeah.... You're right!"


"Uh, oh!" I thought. I didn't expect that. Now I had gotten myself into a mess. Now I was feeding his delusions. Oh what a low life sh*t I was! I decided that the best thing to do was to continue with my plan and that was to let him see by himself that he wasn't the Chosen One. I continued,


"So, what you do, Rusulan, is... You close your eyes and just like that that TV show "Bewitched" you wiggle your nose and think of someplace else and we'll be outta here!"


My heart sank when he eagerly agreed, "Yeah!" and then he closed his eyes. A few seconds later he opened his eyes up and I acted like I did too and, Shazam! We were still in D-41.


"It didn't work!" he said.


Right then, suddenly I couldn't tell if he was pulling my leg or not! I suspected that he was. I said, "I knew it! I had my hopes all up that we could get out of here and then this!... Nope! Sorry, Rusulan, you aren't the Chosen One.... And I had my hopes up too!" Rusulan began to stare blankly again out towards the distance. I felt sorry for him.

"Don't worry about it Rusulan. You'll get out of here soon. Why are you in here, anyway?" 


Rusulan knew the game was up and knew that I didn't believe any of that Chosen One or Metallica nonsense anymore. Why did he tell people that? I don't know, poor guy. Maybe he said those things because of insecurities. Like I said, he was very young and I think, by far, the youngest person there. Maybe he was making these sorts of stories because the others in the ward frightened him? That would be an understandable reaction. Like I said there were very many patients who looked pretty scary. Perhaps he felt that this lie was a sort of self-preservation; a defense mechanism to protect himself, the youngest one of all, and (before I arrived) the only foreigner surrounded in a room full of frightening Japanese adults, from being bullied or treated badly?


Perhaps he learned to have these sorts fears from experiences as the only foreigner at Japanese school. I don't know. If my idea that this concoction that Rusulan had dreamed up as his being the Chosen One was a defense mechanism to scare people away, then that, to me, would seem to indicate that Rusulan was actually probably the most savvy and one of the sanest of the bunch in D-41. 


Rusulan stopped playing games with me after that and told me the truth. He also asked why I was there and I told him. Like I said, when you meet people at Matsuzawa hospital, you never know why they are in there so it is difficult to strike up a conversation with someone because you never know what you're going to get. Kind of like talking to strangers on the outside world, really.


Rusulan then told me his story. It was a pretty sad one. He said his mother had forced him into Matsuzawa hospital as a kid and this wasn't his first time there. I believe this fact proves that poor Rusulan was a minor of, perhaps, 17 or 18 years of age! He told me that he stopped going to school when he was 14. I have heard stories about how some Russian people like to drink, but Rusulan's story confirmed that completely.

Mmmm.... Breakfast of champions!

Rusulan told me that he used to eat cornflakes for breakfast and, instead of pouring milk on the flakes, he'd pour vodka and eat that. He said he wouldn't go to school because by the time breakfast was over, he'd be sprawled out on the floor. This went of for a few years before his mother decided to do something about it. No sense in trying to nip a problem in the bud, right?   


Over the first week or so, I never saw Rusulan's mom visit him. I asked him where she was and he told me that she was no longer in Japan. Now, that's alarming! Because, you see, as a minor, he can't get out unless someone signs to be his guarantor and promises to provide him with a place to stay and food, clothes, etc. And just any old-body can't be a guarantor; in this case, they'd have to be relatives or something. Until his mom came back, and Rusulan seemed to not know when that would be, he wasn't going anywhere. He didn't seem to be especially upset about it. But if it were me, and my mom left me there in that place and didn't come to visit, and then left the country, I'd be a tad bit more than upset. 


As I said, Rusulan and I became very good friends. For the first weeks in D-41 he never had any visitors but I always made sure that he was first to get some of the chocolate that my wife would bring to me. 


My wife's frequent visits (and my only connection to sanity) were beginning to become a problem. The doctors had told us that they wanted to cut down the visits because the other patient's rarely had visitors so it was actually bad for me that my wife would visit so often. They also complained that my wife was "too beautiful" and asked that she not "dress up so much." I thought, "Right! Tell that to a Tokyo City Girl before she wants to go outside." 

Photo of my wife from about that time

It seems that the other patients were beginning to grumble and complain and the doctor's feared that I'd start getting bullied or there'd be some sort of jealous retribution. Even Rusulan had confided in me that he deeply wished someone would come and visit and spend time with him. Poor guys. Porr Rusulan. It all reminded me of something I once heard on a Sunday morning religious rock radio program once, "The most insecure people are usually confined to the highest security prisons." It was the never ending story of the hunger of the human spirit. I felt sorry for everyone, especially Rusulan. He was just a teenager. I tried to be his best friend too.


One day, a Saturday morning, Rusulan was in great spirits for he announced to me that had a guest coming. I was quite happy and surprised to hear this news too! It was the first visitor that, to my knowledge, he had the entire time I was there. Of course, he was ecstatic about it too. I asked him who it was but he wouldn't tell me. He wanted to show me. He wanted to make sure that I met his guest and told me to wait near the exit door. I did.


The rules at the hospital were strict about visitations. The doctors had deemed that they thought Rusulan was "safe" to walk the hospital grounds with a visitor and not try to escape. Of course, in a government run mental institution (it's besides the point that drug and AA meetings and patients go there too), it isn't good if people are leaving the grounds without doctor's permission... That could be misconstrued, in some circles, as "an daring escape from a mental institution" which would make for sensational TV and frighten a lot of neighbors but be most akin to an extra homeless person wandering around the streets for the night. (Some patients could leave the hospitals grounds alone; some with an escort or visitor; some could not leave under any circumstances - I will discuss those later). 


It wasn't my visitation time so I could not walk close to the exit door. Just inside  the door, much like a "loading and unloading area" at an airport, there was an area lined off with yellow paint in the ward's own version of a sort of "No admittance" zone. You weren't supposed to stand in there if you weren't going out. There I stood, just outside off the line, as Rusulan was called because his visitor had arrived.


"Just wait there, Mike!" Rusulan eagerly called back to me. He smiled as wide as he possibly could. I felt happy to be his closest friend there and kind of like his family so I could share in his happiness. The door then opened and there stood a beautiful and tall Japanese high school girl. She was so petite and she looked like a goddess out of a Japanese comic book...She was like an "anime beautiful high school girl!" She was very pretty and she smiled. She had long hair and long legs. Rusulan said something to her and she looked at me, smiled broadly and bowed. I bowed back and waved back at her.

She must have really liked Rusulan because since Matsuzawa hospital is an institution for people with mental disorders, and it just so happens that the drug addicts and alcoholics are throw all into the same place, that still doesn't negate the fact that the hospital grounds are still a pretty scary place to walk around in for most people. The patients can be pretty scary looking, even though they are  completely harmless. So it takes a lot of courage, and probably lots of love too, for some high school girl to go on the hospital grounds by herself to go visit her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she was there and Rusulan was on top of the world as he took her hand and they walked away with the door closing behind their back.


"Oh! I envied him!" I thought!


And with that I went back to doing whatever it was to pass the time. Later we ate dinner and, uneventfully, as always, I went to bed exactly at "lights out" at 8 pm. I slept quite well.


As I mentioned before, word travels fast in the hospital and, at "lights on" at 6 am the next morning, I was so surprised to find out that the hospital was totally and completely abuzz with the news! Rusulan was a hero! Rusulan's girlfriend had helped him to engineer a daring escape in broad daylight from the hospital! His girlfriend was a modern day Bonnie and he was a modern day Clyde! Oh that little criminal-minded minx! I would have never guessed in a million years that the sweet high school girl that I saw the day before standing in the doorway was such a schemer! To our great cheer, excitement and wonderment, Rusulan became a hero, swashbuckler and lady killer in one fell swoop! He was an inspiration to every patient in D-41. He was our own James Dean! 


"Wow! That's so cool!" I thought. So did everyone else.


In my bed I laughed and threw my arms in the air in victory, "Go! Rusulan!" I shouted! "Go! Rusulan! Go!" 


(The next segment in this series is here: Nowhere to Run to Nowhere to Hide - Drug Rehab at Asia's Most Famous Hospital - Part 7)