I have always imagined I have a house in the middle of the water, with glass floor.
So I can see fishes dancing.
This is true.
Sheraton Moorea Lagoon Resort in Tahiti has a glass window in the middle of the room to see and feed fishes.
That's life.
But wonderful life has a price.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Thursday, February 24, 2005
tautology
I was released on the ninth day. Finally I could go home and sleep without any anxiety.
I had around 2 months' sick leave. Moving on crutches was not an easy task. So I was staying at home all the time.
This was a time to stop and re-organize myself.
I am not sure whether this is the right but I do believe there is a purpose in everything.
I have good or bad things repeated and repeated again. I try to be productive, however, the efforts are in vain because I was not focused. Maybe it is time to stop the tautology and work on something even more concrete.
It's time to stop.
I had around 2 months' sick leave. Moving on crutches was not an easy task. So I was staying at home all the time.
This was a time to stop and re-organize myself.
I am not sure whether this is the right but I do believe there is a purpose in everything.
I have good or bad things repeated and repeated again. I try to be productive, however, the efforts are in vain because I was not focused. Maybe it is time to stop the tautology and work on something even more concrete.
It's time to stop.
how to read bible
the lady on my left taught me how to read Bible.
"Hey, can I borrow your Bible?" she asked.
When she was awoken, she was pretty cute. She knew that was the Bible.
"No problem."
I opened a page and held it to her.
"Give it to me, please," she said gently.
"Don't give it to her. She will not return it to you," warned the old lady on the opposite side.
I wondered and asked, "did she ever do that?"
"No."
So I gave the Bible to her. She did not read it. She put it under the blanket and felt contented for a while.
This was a new way to use the Bible.
I was quite curious about that and so I asked, "Can you really read it under the blanket?"
"Yes, of course I can"
Interesting.
After a short while, she returned the Bible to me and stayed calm.
"Hey, can I borrow your Bible?" she asked.
When she was awoken, she was pretty cute. She knew that was the Bible.
"No problem."
I opened a page and held it to her.
"Give it to me, please," she said gently.
"Don't give it to her. She will not return it to you," warned the old lady on the opposite side.
I wondered and asked, "did she ever do that?"
"No."
So I gave the Bible to her. She did not read it. She put it under the blanket and felt contented for a while.
This was a new way to use the Bible.
I was quite curious about that and so I asked, "Can you really read it under the blanket?"
"Yes, of course I can"
Interesting.
After a short while, she returned the Bible to me and stayed calm.
Old Ladies' Power
Life after 12 is at the ward was most alive.
An old lady kept crying in Toishan dialect. I could understand a little bit of it. Because of the pain. Her cry was rhythmic, just as she was singing a song. It was not too disturbing for me because it was almost like my great grand mother's singing.
Another old lady was "miao"ing. Maybe she kept a cat at home.
The lady on my left was cursing, as usual.
It was alright for me.
But a chaos over the corner woke me up.
Three nurses were trying to 'tame' the old lady because she torn the needle from her hand.
She was bleeding and tried to hit the nurses. She was yelling and struggling.
She kept yelling and struggling.
But the nurse had her way to calm her down.
The old lady seemed to lose her memory. She asked helplessly "Where am I?" again and again.
The nurse replied again and again, "At the hospital"
I saw the real face of becoming old. It was more or less a regression. To become a child again.
An old lady kept crying in Toishan dialect. I could understand a little bit of it. Because of the pain. Her cry was rhythmic, just as she was singing a song. It was not too disturbing for me because it was almost like my great grand mother's singing.
Another old lady was "miao"ing. Maybe she kept a cat at home.
The lady on my left was cursing, as usual.
It was alright for me.
But a chaos over the corner woke me up.
Three nurses were trying to 'tame' the old lady because she torn the needle from her hand.
She was bleeding and tried to hit the nurses. She was yelling and struggling.
She kept yelling and struggling.
But the nurse had her way to calm her down.
The old lady seemed to lose her memory. She asked helplessly "Where am I?" again and again.
The nurse replied again and again, "At the hospital"
I saw the real face of becoming old. It was more or less a regression. To become a child again.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
x-ray attack
After the visiting hours in the evening, I sometimes heard a sudden movement of nurses and workladies to the end of the ward, which was just around the corner of my section. Even patients who were not mobile, they would cling on their crutches and reasched the "safe corner". If nurses were still concentrating in their work and they missed rush, nurses on the "safe" side would call and remind them to hide.
I could not figure out what was going on, the room was quiet. Until, someone yelled
"X-RAY, X-RAY".
Then a click of button.
It was the mobile x-ray machine to take records for those were not mobile.
After the x-ray, everyone returned to work again.
I could not figure out what was going on, the room was quiet. Until, someone yelled
"X-RAY, X-RAY".
Then a click of button.
It was the mobile x-ray machine to take records for those were not mobile.
After the x-ray, everyone returned to work again.
Monday, February 21, 2005
it hurts
It hurt.
This was the first thing I said after the operation when I was waiting at the recovery bay.
The pain was awfully terrible. So I was given another injection. Much better.
Then I returned to the ward in the evening. I did not know how long did the operation took place.
I was quite conscious when I saw my parents when I returned to the ward.
My aunt was also there. She was examining my leg. But a slight move of the bed sheet would add up my pain.
I missed the meal time. But I did not feel hungry at all. The pain took all.
My cousin was there as well.
The most interesting thing about being a patient was that there were plenty of rooms to listen. Listen closely to what my families were thinking.
This was the first thing I said after the operation when I was waiting at the recovery bay.
The pain was awfully terrible. So I was given another injection. Much better.
Then I returned to the ward in the evening. I did not know how long did the operation took place.
I was quite conscious when I saw my parents when I returned to the ward.
My aunt was also there. She was examining my leg. But a slight move of the bed sheet would add up my pain.
I missed the meal time. But I did not feel hungry at all. The pain took all.
My cousin was there as well.
The most interesting thing about being a patient was that there were plenty of rooms to listen. Listen closely to what my families were thinking.
CONGRATULATIONS!!!... it's your turn
I was not quite sure whether I would be lined to have the OT.
I stopped eating since midnight. But I barely felt hungry.
During lunch time, my father came and he brought me magazines to kill time and kill pain.
I hope that I would not have the same experience as the old lady next to me.
Laying in bed and starving.
Anyhow, if she could stand it, I should be able to do so.
Just wanted to get my ankle fixed as soon as possible. I was not sure whether any delay would cost my rehabilitation.
A phone came in. The nurse received the phone. She repeated after the phone, I guessed.
"2:30 get ready"
The nurse was exhilarated (yes, she was.)
"No. 16, you will go for an OT."
(I was No. 16. I would go for an OT.)
"CONGRATULATIONS!!!" cheered the nurse. (She was a very lovely nurse.)
Yes, I was No. 16. This was the first time I have received such kind of greetings.
"Oi, that's great," I replied.
I had no fancy for OT. Or I had no fancy for a broken ankle. The choice was apparent.
When I was still thinking and worrying. A group of workladies and nurses flocked to my bed.
Less than a minute, I was dressed in OT gown. Ready to go.
At around 2:00, the nurses and workladies went on the next shift.
A newly arrived nurse, Nurse S came to me and helped prepare for the OT. She asked "What kind of operation are you going to have?"
"Right ankle," I replied.
"Wrong."
"......"
"You are going to have plates fixed to your broken right ankle, see?" said Nurse S.
"Just to fix my broken right ankle with plates," I repeated.
"I will accompany you to the theatre, don't worry," said Nurse S.
"Can I bring my spectacles along?" I asked.
"Why?"
"I cannot see without them," I said.
"No, you just can't. OK get ready, we are moving."
Then a few workladies with very strong arms tossed me to another bed. As usual, less than a minute.
Maybe not bringing my spectacles was a good idea, at least, lesser the clarity, lesser the fear.
The operation theatre was not ready yet.
Someone in operation clothes checked the information with Nurse S.
Then she asked,
"What kind of operation are you going to receive?"
"Fixing plates to my broken right ankle," I answered.
"That's correct,"
I should be assigned a perfect score.
I was wheeled to the theatre. The theatre was very big, clean and bright. The operation lamps were just enormous, like a gigantic spider with many eyes. The table was very narrow. I was asked not to move.
The anaesthetist arrived and confirmed my identity.
"You are Maggie Cheung, aren't you?"
"No," I hoped that I entered the right room.
"Oh, yes, sorry," said the anaesthetist.
Ppl were fixing some tapes and stuff just to hooked on some kind of electrical devices. (Just my wild guesses.)
The anaesthetist tried to fix a needle to my left hand.
He was taping and taping on the back on my hand. Maybe he was trying to get the vein.
"So tense... very tense indeed", said he.
I was tensed indeed. I could not even control my muscle.
The operation theatre was too foreign to me. It's better to close my eyes than observing what's happening.
"Keep your eyes open," ordered a nurse/doctor(?) " We want to know when the anaesthetic comes into effect." So I opened my eyes and inhaled oxygen from the machine.
When the anaesthetic rushed from my left hand to my neck, I fell asleep.
I stopped eating since midnight. But I barely felt hungry.
During lunch time, my father came and he brought me magazines to kill time and kill pain.
I hope that I would not have the same experience as the old lady next to me.
Laying in bed and starving.
Anyhow, if she could stand it, I should be able to do so.
Just wanted to get my ankle fixed as soon as possible. I was not sure whether any delay would cost my rehabilitation.
A phone came in. The nurse received the phone. She repeated after the phone, I guessed.
"2:30 get ready"
The nurse was exhilarated (yes, she was.)
"No. 16, you will go for an OT."
(I was No. 16. I would go for an OT.)
"CONGRATULATIONS!!!" cheered the nurse. (She was a very lovely nurse.)
Yes, I was No. 16. This was the first time I have received such kind of greetings.
"Oi, that's great," I replied.
I had no fancy for OT. Or I had no fancy for a broken ankle. The choice was apparent.
When I was still thinking and worrying. A group of workladies and nurses flocked to my bed.
Less than a minute, I was dressed in OT gown. Ready to go.
At around 2:00, the nurses and workladies went on the next shift.
A newly arrived nurse, Nurse S came to me and helped prepare for the OT. She asked "What kind of operation are you going to have?"
"Right ankle," I replied.
"Wrong."
"......"
"You are going to have plates fixed to your broken right ankle, see?" said Nurse S.
"Just to fix my broken right ankle with plates," I repeated.
"I will accompany you to the theatre, don't worry," said Nurse S.
"Can I bring my spectacles along?" I asked.
"Why?"
"I cannot see without them," I said.
"No, you just can't. OK get ready, we are moving."
Then a few workladies with very strong arms tossed me to another bed. As usual, less than a minute.
Maybe not bringing my spectacles was a good idea, at least, lesser the clarity, lesser the fear.
The operation theatre was not ready yet.
Someone in operation clothes checked the information with Nurse S.
Then she asked,
"What kind of operation are you going to receive?"
"Fixing plates to my broken right ankle," I answered.
"That's correct,"
I should be assigned a perfect score.
I was wheeled to the theatre. The theatre was very big, clean and bright. The operation lamps were just enormous, like a gigantic spider with many eyes. The table was very narrow. I was asked not to move.
The anaesthetist arrived and confirmed my identity.
"You are Maggie Cheung, aren't you?"
"No," I hoped that I entered the right room.
"Oh, yes, sorry," said the anaesthetist.
Ppl were fixing some tapes and stuff just to hooked on some kind of electrical devices. (Just my wild guesses.)
The anaesthetist tried to fix a needle to my left hand.
He was taping and taping on the back on my hand. Maybe he was trying to get the vein.
"So tense... very tense indeed", said he.
I was tensed indeed. I could not even control my muscle.
The operation theatre was too foreign to me. It's better to close my eyes than observing what's happening.
"Keep your eyes open," ordered a nurse/doctor(?) " We want to know when the anaesthetic comes into effect." So I opened my eyes and inhaled oxygen from the machine.
When the anaesthetic rushed from my left hand to my neck, I fell asleep.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Poor chicken
Poor chicken. My brother bought me this chicken at the new year market. It's a marvellous chicken. It did a great job supporting my bad leg.
"my stomach......"
@Magazine Gap Playground.
"my stomach......"
@Magazine Gap Playground.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
the most wonderul shower
I have never had such a wonderful bath.
It was even better than luxurious and exotic spa that I had.
Before the day of OT, I was taken to a shower. For disinfection, perhaps? I had no idea.
I had not taken a bath for three days. This was my limit. It was not bad to have a shower.
Since I could not get out of bed by myself, so I was transported to the shower.
I was put on a very very very large basin (with wheels). I was wheeled to the shower by a worklady. I had no idea how to take such bath.
The pretty nurse gave my a naughty smile and said, "Just imagine, you are having a SPA."
Spa... in hospital? NO~
I was wheeled to the shower. The worklady was very efficient. She removed my pajamas and wrap my leg in a plastic bag.
I was shocked again. Being shocked about her efficiency and shocked about having someone helping me to take a bath.
But there was no space to be anxious again.
The lady seemed to understand my uneasiness. She said she would leave myself taking the shower. Then, another lady appeared (!?)
"I could not just wait outside, the manager would spot me."
But the first worklady asked her out. Still I thought it was okay to have her waiting in the room. I shared a kind of working class consciousness.
Although it was very embarrassed to take shower in the presence of two strangers, a good shower could already compensate that. This was the best shower I have even had.
Blessed are those who have showers to take.
It was even better than luxurious and exotic spa that I had.
Before the day of OT, I was taken to a shower. For disinfection, perhaps? I had no idea.
I had not taken a bath for three days. This was my limit. It was not bad to have a shower.
Since I could not get out of bed by myself, so I was transported to the shower.
I was put on a very very very large basin (with wheels). I was wheeled to the shower by a worklady. I had no idea how to take such bath.
The pretty nurse gave my a naughty smile and said, "Just imagine, you are having a SPA."
Spa... in hospital? NO~
I was wheeled to the shower. The worklady was very efficient. She removed my pajamas and wrap my leg in a plastic bag.
I was shocked again. Being shocked about her efficiency and shocked about having someone helping me to take a bath.
But there was no space to be anxious again.
The lady seemed to understand my uneasiness. She said she would leave myself taking the shower. Then, another lady appeared (!?)
"I could not just wait outside, the manager would spot me."
But the first worklady asked her out. Still I thought it was okay to have her waiting in the room. I shared a kind of working class consciousness.
Although it was very embarrassed to take shower in the presence of two strangers, a good shower could already compensate that. This was the best shower I have even had.
Blessed are those who have showers to take.
waiting for OT
OT, it means Over Time in workplaces.
But it means Operation Theatre in hospitals.
Same as the words of Over Time, I had no particular fancy for it.
If I could go for OT, it meant I could have my bones connected very soon.
But, to be honest, I did not like going to operation theatre. It's hard to explain why I had such fear.
That morning, the doctors' time again.
The chubby MO had somekind of character.
He put my patient stickers on the sleeve of his gown. I saw also some doctors and physiotherapists did that. Maybe this worked as a notebook for them. Notebook on sleeves. Hi-tech industries should think about this idea.
"See, I have your sticker on my sleeve. I did not forget you."
"!?" This was an interesting way of remembering the patients. I had a feeling that the operation would be delayed.
"OK. Let's mark your leg." The doctor drew a big blue arrow on my right leg.
I was shocked because no one had ever used a sign to mark sth on me. (Except, I did like trick to my friends at secondary schools.)
"Just to identify..."
That's fine. At least this was to mark the right leg and get the correct treatment.
The doctor explained what would be done at OT. I signed the consent. It appeared that I understood all the procedures. However, I also had a feeling that I did not understand it at all.
The old lady next to me would go to the OT this afternoon.
She stopped eating since the mid night, then the morning, then the afternoon. She was dressed in the operation clothes, just to get ready at any time. She was the third one on the list.
3:00 pm
4:00 pm
The MO came. He told the lady that her operation would be cancelled and reschedule. So the lady (rather weak) resumed eating, complaining and waiting.
I took this as a rehearsal for myself. Just in case I headed off the OT the day after.
But it means Operation Theatre in hospitals.
Same as the words of Over Time, I had no particular fancy for it.
If I could go for OT, it meant I could have my bones connected very soon.
But, to be honest, I did not like going to operation theatre. It's hard to explain why I had such fear.
That morning, the doctors' time again.
The chubby MO had somekind of character.
He put my patient stickers on the sleeve of his gown. I saw also some doctors and physiotherapists did that. Maybe this worked as a notebook for them. Notebook on sleeves. Hi-tech industries should think about this idea.
"See, I have your sticker on my sleeve. I did not forget you."
"!?" This was an interesting way of remembering the patients. I had a feeling that the operation would be delayed.
"OK. Let's mark your leg." The doctor drew a big blue arrow on my right leg.
I was shocked because no one had ever used a sign to mark sth on me. (Except, I did like trick to my friends at secondary schools.)
"Just to identify..."
That's fine. At least this was to mark the right leg and get the correct treatment.
The doctor explained what would be done at OT. I signed the consent. It appeared that I understood all the procedures. However, I also had a feeling that I did not understand it at all.
The old lady next to me would go to the OT this afternoon.
She stopped eating since the mid night, then the morning, then the afternoon. She was dressed in the operation clothes, just to get ready at any time. She was the third one on the list.
3:00 pm
4:00 pm
The MO came. He told the lady that her operation would be cancelled and reschedule. So the lady (rather weak) resumed eating, complaining and waiting.
I took this as a rehearsal for myself. Just in case I headed off the OT the day after.
stay in queue
Different doctors came to examine my right leg.
I repeated my story to different people.
At first, I could not figure it out systematically. It was a chaos when it happened.
Then I could tell it orderly and even tried to explain it.
That's how narrative at work.
The medical profession was quite interesting. It is highly rationalized, yet it also relied on personal accounts.
Finally, the Medical Officer in charge examined my leg.
This MO was a rather vocal and stormy one.
(I had an obervation that medical and nursing staff had some kind of character. Otherwise, they could not stay in the profession.)
It was drowsy morning (or afternoon?), I seldom took a nap in any places except home. But I was too tired after staying up at night. His loud voice woke me up.
"So Doctor X saw you this morning?"
"......" (I could not identify who was who. There were too many.)
Then he read the x-rays.
"What is your occupation?"
"Teaching. "
"blah blah blah (i was still to drowsy to catch up, maybe it was something about the treatment. he was too quick. except the following) "
"you right ankle will deteriorate quicker than the left after the operation. ...."
My mind drifted. What was the meaning of deteriorate? Being able to walk, yet getting older than before? Not being able to walk? Being able to walk but walk unproperly? There were too many questions.
I asked something about what kind of treatment I would receive.
The doctor drew diagrames to explain what had happened and what would be placed inside my ankle. Very clear, just like I was having a human biology lesson.
The doctor examined my ankle. It was burning. Even a slight touch hurt a lot.
Mixed with the questions and pain, the consultation was over.
I was put into the queue for operation. Yet it quite depended on the vacanies and emergency cases.
The anxiety lingered.
I repeated my story to different people.
At first, I could not figure it out systematically. It was a chaos when it happened.
Then I could tell it orderly and even tried to explain it.
That's how narrative at work.
The medical profession was quite interesting. It is highly rationalized, yet it also relied on personal accounts.
Finally, the Medical Officer in charge examined my leg.
This MO was a rather vocal and stormy one.
(I had an obervation that medical and nursing staff had some kind of character. Otherwise, they could not stay in the profession.)
It was drowsy morning (or afternoon?), I seldom took a nap in any places except home. But I was too tired after staying up at night. His loud voice woke me up.
"So Doctor X saw you this morning?"
"......" (I could not identify who was who. There were too many.)
Then he read the x-rays.
"What is your occupation?"
"Teaching. "
"blah blah blah (i was still to drowsy to catch up, maybe it was something about the treatment. he was too quick. except the following) "
"you right ankle will deteriorate quicker than the left after the operation. ...."
My mind drifted. What was the meaning of deteriorate? Being able to walk, yet getting older than before? Not being able to walk? Being able to walk but walk unproperly? There were too many questions.
I asked something about what kind of treatment I would receive.
The doctor drew diagrames to explain what had happened and what would be placed inside my ankle. Very clear, just like I was having a human biology lesson.
The doctor examined my ankle. It was burning. Even a slight touch hurt a lot.
Mixed with the questions and pain, the consultation was over.
I was put into the queue for operation. Yet it quite depended on the vacanies and emergency cases.
The anxiety lingered.
cast a vote--- i am the winner.
After my grandmothers died, I have not had the chance to talk to old ladies.
Talking to them is an art. There was not much to talk about in the ward.
Except this topic. It was recycled again and again.
"Who was the most miserable person in this section?"
It was not ranked according to the doctors' decision or nurses' treatment. The ladies had their only reasons to rank.
My session had five old ladies, (one with Alzheimer's). The four rather healthy ladies started to talk about their situation.
One had her knee cap broken.
One had her right lower limb broken.
Another one had some kind of problem with her legs.
Another some kind of problem, but I had no idea what it was.
Then here it went.
(I was reading something, so I did not take much attention to their conversation.)
"The young sister over there, you must be the most misterable person."
"Me?"
I just smiled and said nothing. (You know, to play safe, it was better not to speak too much.)
"You ran into the same bad luck as I did. Blah blah..." another old lady.
So the competition went on. Three ladies ranked me as the person with bad luck. The lady who broke her knee cap insisted she was the one.
I tried to resist that. You know, the four old ladies were running into a fierce argument.
It's better to close my eyes, ears and sleep.
Talking to them is an art. There was not much to talk about in the ward.
Except this topic. It was recycled again and again.
"Who was the most miserable person in this section?"
It was not ranked according to the doctors' decision or nurses' treatment. The ladies had their only reasons to rank.
My session had five old ladies, (one with Alzheimer's). The four rather healthy ladies started to talk about their situation.
One had her knee cap broken.
One had her right lower limb broken.
Another one had some kind of problem with her legs.
Another some kind of problem, but I had no idea what it was.
Then here it went.
(I was reading something, so I did not take much attention to their conversation.)
"The young sister over there, you must be the most misterable person."
"Me?"
I just smiled and said nothing. (You know, to play safe, it was better not to speak too much.)
"You ran into the same bad luck as I did. Blah blah..." another old lady.
So the competition went on. Three ladies ranked me as the person with bad luck. The lady who broke her knee cap insisted she was the one.
I tried to resist that. You know, the four old ladies were running into a fierce argument.
It's better to close my eyes, ears and sleep.
one only
One the first night, friends flocked in after work.
It was a rather shocking news, for them and myself.
"Where is your left foot?"
This was the first question they asked even though they arrived at different time.
Just to make sure.
I had my left leg hide beneath the blanket. My right sat on the plaster support.
I had the bimallueor broken on the right (Two pieces were broken.). Most of them heard that I had both legs broken. So that sound awfully terrible. When they came and saw me, they were in great relief.
Me, too.
By God's grace, just one only.
It was a rather shocking news, for them and myself.
"Where is your left foot?"
This was the first question they asked even though they arrived at different time.
Just to make sure.
I had my left leg hide beneath the blanket. My right sat on the plaster support.
I had the bimallueor broken on the right (Two pieces were broken.). Most of them heard that I had both legs broken. So that sound awfully terrible. When they came and saw me, they were in great relief.
Me, too.
By God's grace, just one only.
waiting
I was accepted to the "Trauma" list.
Actually there is nothing much to do, except staying in bed.
I learnt how to live on the 4 X 6 feet space.
All human basic needs were fulfilled within that space and a public area.
To be very honest. I did not get used to complete my basic life cycle within that space, however I had no choice.
To eat in a public area, was ok.
To sleep in a public area with strangers, was not very ok.
To vee and poo in a public space, was extremely not ok. Especially when the workladies and nurses forgot to pull the curtains, it was terribly not ok.
I was so stressed out that all my normal cycles were broken.
Let it be.
Actually there is nothing much to do, except staying in bed.
I learnt how to live on the 4 X 6 feet space.
All human basic needs were fulfilled within that space and a public area.
To be very honest. I did not get used to complete my basic life cycle within that space, however I had no choice.
To eat in a public area, was ok.
To sleep in a public area with strangers, was not very ok.
To vee and poo in a public space, was extremely not ok. Especially when the workladies and nurses forgot to pull the curtains, it was terribly not ok.
I was so stressed out that all my normal cycles were broken.
Let it be.
Friday, February 11, 2005
exercise the broken
The physiotherapist came.
She taught me how to exercise the broken ankle.
She explained it would help my muscle before the operation.
1. Keep moving the toes for blood circulation.
2. Bend my right leg.
3. Lift the entire right leg.
moving the toes were okay.
But I shaked terribly while lifting the right leg.
"Your right leg did not have enough strength. Keep this up," said the physiotherpist.
Lifting a painful leg, which was wearing a plaster.
Heavy indeed.
But the exercise helped a lot when my foot lost feeling.
She taught me how to exercise the broken ankle.
She explained it would help my muscle before the operation.
1. Keep moving the toes for blood circulation.
2. Bend my right leg.
3. Lift the entire right leg.
moving the toes were okay.
But I shaked terribly while lifting the right leg.
"Your right leg did not have enough strength. Keep this up," said the physiotherpist.
Lifting a painful leg, which was wearing a plaster.
Heavy indeed.
But the exercise helped a lot when my foot lost feeling.
the ward's order
Life at the hospital was entirely different from the routine.
I learnt how to be an docile, bed-rest B4-16.
It's five o'clock.
People started working at the ward.
Workladies putting basins and basins of water on the shelves.
I had no idea what to do with that.
The lady threw my towel to the basin and told me wash my face. I could not make up my mind because of the pain as well as the early hour.
Early bird got the worm, I got the hot towel.
I could barely moved while I was trying to wake myself.
The lady had already dried the towel and put it on my face.
Except my mom and dad, no one had put a towel on my face and even attempted to wipe it.
Cleaning my teeth was also a problem for me. Without a running tap, I could not do that. But my salvation came. A lady handed me a mouth wash. It was just the best thing on earth.
Everyone in the ward was busy.
Nurses pushing blood pressure meters to do their checkings. Measuring temperature, checking bolld sugar level.
Then the ladies rushed again. They distributed breakfast to everyone. With diabetes or non-diabetes.
Time ran fast, it was almost 7:30 am.
Even the patients ate very quickly. I finished the congee immediately without being left behind.
I was the "youngest" in that section, but I was always the slowest.
8:00 am. Teams and teams of doctors flocked in. Nurses followed behind them and picked up instructions. Very quickly, they stormed away.
My plaster was removed for doctors to examine. My feet swelled like a ballon. The doctors explained. The doctors decided that was not the time to have an operation. So I had to wait.
My foot was left "undressed". I did not know what to do. All I could do was wait.
Actually I was not the only one left undressed. All the wounds of the old ladies were awaiting.
Untill, the nurse officer arrived when she picked up the shift.
She came to me and told me what would happen to my leg.
"It would swell terribly. After the operation, your foot will stink. The old skin will peel off."
"So you need to put on lotion now, just be nice to your skin. Give me the lotion. I will put it on."
Actually I could not figure out what was going on because nurse officer often worked behind the station.
It could be a sign of downsize and budget cut, I guessed.
The nurse officer put on the lotion. Though what she was saying to me about the future of my leg sounded terrible. But at least, she helped distract my attention to the pain and fear of the hospital ward.
It was a busy morning for a novice patient. It's hard to imagine patients were busy as well.
I learnt how to be an docile, bed-rest B4-16.
It's five o'clock.
People started working at the ward.
Workladies putting basins and basins of water on the shelves.
I had no idea what to do with that.
The lady threw my towel to the basin and told me wash my face. I could not make up my mind because of the pain as well as the early hour.
Early bird got the worm, I got the hot towel.
I could barely moved while I was trying to wake myself.
The lady had already dried the towel and put it on my face.
Except my mom and dad, no one had put a towel on my face and even attempted to wipe it.
Cleaning my teeth was also a problem for me. Without a running tap, I could not do that. But my salvation came. A lady handed me a mouth wash. It was just the best thing on earth.
Everyone in the ward was busy.
Nurses pushing blood pressure meters to do their checkings. Measuring temperature, checking bolld sugar level.
Then the ladies rushed again. They distributed breakfast to everyone. With diabetes or non-diabetes.
Time ran fast, it was almost 7:30 am.
Even the patients ate very quickly. I finished the congee immediately without being left behind.
I was the "youngest" in that section, but I was always the slowest.
8:00 am. Teams and teams of doctors flocked in. Nurses followed behind them and picked up instructions. Very quickly, they stormed away.
My plaster was removed for doctors to examine. My feet swelled like a ballon. The doctors explained. The doctors decided that was not the time to have an operation. So I had to wait.
My foot was left "undressed". I did not know what to do. All I could do was wait.
Actually I was not the only one left undressed. All the wounds of the old ladies were awaiting.
Untill, the nurse officer arrived when she picked up the shift.
She came to me and told me what would happen to my leg.
"It would swell terribly. After the operation, your foot will stink. The old skin will peel off."
"So you need to put on lotion now, just be nice to your skin. Give me the lotion. I will put it on."
Actually I could not figure out what was going on because nurse officer often worked behind the station.
It could be a sign of downsize and budget cut, I guessed.
The nurse officer put on the lotion. Though what she was saying to me about the future of my leg sounded terrible. But at least, she helped distract my attention to the pain and fear of the hospital ward.
It was a busy morning for a novice patient. It's hard to imagine patients were busy as well.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
a screaming old woman
I have heard about Alzheimer's disease. But I have not met anyone who suffered from the disease. I felt the power of the disease.
After my parents left, the curtain on my left was moving.
A thin old's face appeared between the cracks of the curtain. The face was thin and yellow with two sharp eyes. Her mouth was hollowed except one front tooth.
The woman talked to me. However, I could barely understand what she was talking about.
Then the room resumed to stillness.
I fell asleep quickly. I felt tired and frustrated.
In the middle of the night, a turmoil woke me up.
The old lady was screaming and yelling and cursing.
This woman was cool. I have not heard any ppl cursing continuously in different ways.
The nurses tried to tie her hands to the bed rail because she kept removing her "shoes" (a plastic support to her legs) and dressing, and piling her wounds.
"@#%**, two ppl fighting against one" a yell of justice.
So, I spent my night with swear words and curses.
The nurse explained to me that the old lady suffered from Alzheimer's disease.
I saw the power of the disease.
After my parents left, the curtain on my left was moving.
A thin old's face appeared between the cracks of the curtain. The face was thin and yellow with two sharp eyes. Her mouth was hollowed except one front tooth.
The woman talked to me. However, I could barely understand what she was talking about.
Then the room resumed to stillness.
I fell asleep quickly. I felt tired and frustrated.
In the middle of the night, a turmoil woke me up.
The old lady was screaming and yelling and cursing.
This woman was cool. I have not heard any ppl cursing continuously in different ways.
The nurses tried to tie her hands to the bed rail because she kept removing her "shoes" (a plastic support to her legs) and dressing, and piling her wounds.
"@#%**, two ppl fighting against one" a yell of justice.
So, I spent my night with swear words and curses.
The nurse explained to me that the old lady suffered from Alzheimer's disease.
I saw the power of the disease.
nursing officer
A nursing officer came to me. She asked how the accident happened.
"slipped and fell at home", I said.
The nursing officer was a funny yet friendly woman.
"That's why fall and slip are dangerous, have you heard old ppl cannot stand any slip and fall."
She gave a briefing to my mom what should be brought to me because I would have a long time staying at the hospital.
"My goodness..." I groaned. I still could not believe it was something so terrible.
Then my parents left. This was the first time for me to stay at the hospital.
To make myself feel better. I just thought of it as a long vacation.
"slipped and fell at home", I said.
The nursing officer was a funny yet friendly woman.
"That's why fall and slip are dangerous, have you heard old ppl cannot stand any slip and fall."
She gave a briefing to my mom what should be brought to me because I would have a long time staying at the hospital.
"My goodness..." I groaned. I still could not believe it was something so terrible.
Then my parents left. This was the first time for me to stay at the hospital.
To make myself feel better. I just thought of it as a long vacation.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
B4-16
I was admitted as B4-16.
I had no fancy about hospital.
The ward was quiet and calm.
I put on the standard checker clothes of public hospital.
I became a patient.
My parents were anxious, I was anxious, three times of anxieties.
A doctor came and tried to comfort us. The operation was a must. such to put the broken pieces into the right places. The most important thing was to be fearless about pain. (yes, to be fearless.)
Doctors and nurses in this ward were very different from those that I often saw. I had always had the impression that nurses were being harsh to people.
So an alabaster officer came to make a plaster support for my right leg.
But no operation for the night because my foot was swollen. Terribly swollen.
"Bed rest," the doctor instructed the nurse.
The nurses put up the bars on both sides of the bed.
I was not allowed to leave the bed.
I had to learn to live a new lifestyle.
I had no fancy about hospital.
The ward was quiet and calm.
I put on the standard checker clothes of public hospital.
I became a patient.
My parents were anxious, I was anxious, three times of anxieties.
A doctor came and tried to comfort us. The operation was a must. such to put the broken pieces into the right places. The most important thing was to be fearless about pain. (yes, to be fearless.)
Doctors and nurses in this ward were very different from those that I often saw. I had always had the impression that nurses were being harsh to people.
So an alabaster officer came to make a plaster support for my right leg.
But no operation for the night because my foot was swollen. Terribly swollen.
"Bed rest," the doctor instructed the nurse.
The nurses put up the bars on both sides of the bed.
I was not allowed to leave the bed.
I had to learn to live a new lifestyle.
a not very ordinary accident
This is a not very ordinary accident. I still cannot figure out how did it happen and why did it happen.
I am still thinking about it.
It just happened at a very ordinary place, a very ordinary time but it was just not very convincing.
I broke my right ankle on 16 January. It was almost two weeks ago.
I was at home that afternoon. After taking a few shots of my father in the funny dwarf hat. I returned to my room.
When I made a right turn to my room, I slipped. I was falling towards the wardrobe. But I tried to maintain my balance. However it was too late. My right foot was stuck to the door. So I fell and I heard a clear "click". So that's. I broke my ankle.
Fortunately, my parents were at home. They rushed to me and saw that was not good at all. My mom was rubbing my forehead because I hit my head on the floor. My father was rubbing my foot. The pain was so great that I could not help crying. I have never been this before. Tear ran furiously. I grabbed the door so hard such to release my pain.
All of us had a wishful thinking that this was just an ordinary "leg twisting" event. However, it was not.
I saw my foot deformed and twisted outwardly.
"It must be joint dislocation." I tried to comfort myself.
However it turned out to be sth more serious that that.
My father was thinking about getting me to Chinese Orthopedist. But this was apparently not the case.
I urged him to send to hospital . I could barely walk.
So I used the ambulance for the first time in my life.
I was sent to A&E and the pain was so great that I kept shaking.
Non-urgent cases took around 180 minutes...
But I was given the quickest treatement and X ray.
"How did you hurt yoursefl?" asked the doctor.
"At home. I slipped"
"???" (That seemed to be something very ordinary for old ladies, but for a middle-age woman ... it is very unusual. So it was fair enough for doctor to have such expression.
"Then go to the X Ray."
You know what having a broke ankle (I still did not know that I had a fratured ankle at that time.) Having a hurt ankle and crawled to the X Ray table and made my foot x-rayable, was a very terrible move.
It's like learning something new. I even did not know how to coordinate all my limbs.
So I went to the outside to wait again.
I was called immediately.
Here came the doctor again.
"Excuse me Miss, You had broken your ankle."
"It couldn't be."
"Yes. You did. You will be admitted to the hospital tomight. No food and drink. You will have an operation tonight."
"How could that be..."
My mom and I could not accept that at all. To convince us, the doctor showed us the x-ray film.
Yes, I had the supporting bones on both sides of my lower legs broken.
(It's very difficult to spell the medical term. Just leave it alone.)
Then the doctor vanished.
A nurse helped us to prepare for the admission. My mom was desperate and she asked whether this was serious.
The nurse replied calmly, "It is better than nothing can be done."
I was wheeled to the O&T ward.
I am still thinking about it.
It just happened at a very ordinary place, a very ordinary time but it was just not very convincing.
I broke my right ankle on 16 January. It was almost two weeks ago.
I was at home that afternoon. After taking a few shots of my father in the funny dwarf hat. I returned to my room.
When I made a right turn to my room, I slipped. I was falling towards the wardrobe. But I tried to maintain my balance. However it was too late. My right foot was stuck to the door. So I fell and I heard a clear "click". So that's. I broke my ankle.
Fortunately, my parents were at home. They rushed to me and saw that was not good at all. My mom was rubbing my forehead because I hit my head on the floor. My father was rubbing my foot. The pain was so great that I could not help crying. I have never been this before. Tear ran furiously. I grabbed the door so hard such to release my pain.
All of us had a wishful thinking that this was just an ordinary "leg twisting" event. However, it was not.
I saw my foot deformed and twisted outwardly.
"It must be joint dislocation." I tried to comfort myself.
However it turned out to be sth more serious that that.
My father was thinking about getting me to Chinese Orthopedist. But this was apparently not the case.
I urged him to send to hospital . I could barely walk.
So I used the ambulance for the first time in my life.
I was sent to A&E and the pain was so great that I kept shaking.
Non-urgent cases took around 180 minutes...
But I was given the quickest treatement and X ray.
"How did you hurt yoursefl?" asked the doctor.
"At home. I slipped"
"???" (That seemed to be something very ordinary for old ladies, but for a middle-age woman ... it is very unusual. So it was fair enough for doctor to have such expression.
"Then go to the X Ray."
You know what having a broke ankle (I still did not know that I had a fratured ankle at that time.) Having a hurt ankle and crawled to the X Ray table and made my foot x-rayable, was a very terrible move.
It's like learning something new. I even did not know how to coordinate all my limbs.
So I went to the outside to wait again.
I was called immediately.
Here came the doctor again.
"Excuse me Miss, You had broken your ankle."
"It couldn't be."
"Yes. You did. You will be admitted to the hospital tomight. No food and drink. You will have an operation tonight."
"How could that be..."
My mom and I could not accept that at all. To convince us, the doctor showed us the x-ray film.
Yes, I had the supporting bones on both sides of my lower legs broken.
(It's very difficult to spell the medical term. Just leave it alone.)
Then the doctor vanished.
A nurse helped us to prepare for the admission. My mom was desperate and she asked whether this was serious.
The nurse replied calmly, "It is better than nothing can be done."
I was wheeled to the O&T ward.
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