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.