My toddler woke up this morning at 8 am, all bright eyes. So, we decided to go to McD and Tesco for some walkie-walkies. On the way back, I somehow took the wrong lane and ended up on the autopon (sp?) which leads to the hospital.
So, he told me, “Nay….hospital see Dr. Cheang wan lor….”
And I absent-mindedly told him, “Yalor…Vincent ko-ko last time stay here wan lor…” Once upon a time, I used to make that trip to the hospital every day around the same time.
He replied, “Vincent ko-ko died already and go see Jesus liao lor…”
So, rewind-rewind and play some old tales in my head.
Once in a while, if I was lucky, I would bumped into Dr. C at the carpark because our older kids went to the same kindy and hence, we arrived around the same time at the hospital.
Well, mostly, I would greet him with the usual smile and etc. Sometimes, he would dropped bombs like, “Last night they (ICU nurses) called me at 3 am ‘cos your notty kid gave problems (explained situation like aspirated blood, seizures, breathing problems, BP dropped). I was about to call you (when doc call patients’ caregivers to ICU, it is usually very, very bad news) but usual lah, he stabilised.”
In the bright sunshine, on the way from the car park to the hospital, news like these were much easier to swallow. I hate it if I got summoned to see him first thing in the morning in his clinic. Those few steps from level four to the ground floor would feel like an eternity.
So, my usual self would replied something like, “Oh, 3 am? What time did you sleep then? How come you can still wake up? No panda eyes ah?”
Sometimes, if I am not so lucky to get it from the horse’s (doc C) mouth, I would be bombarded with the sour faced matron bad news.
It will be something like these:
“Aiyoh, Mrs. Loh, last night emergency, yadda yadda yadda. Tsk, very bad la. I thought he cannot make it already.”
Each morning, I would have the same routine. Go up to the fourth floor, get into ICU. Wear coat, wear slipper, wash hands, yadda yadda yadda. KPC check which patient had died over the night, which new one got admitted. Check if my tall, balding, dark, silent and handsome Cambridge surgeon around. (Ok, this part is just a distraction from going insane. I was playing Mills and Boons doctors and patients romance in my head.) Check if the undertaker is outside the ICU waiting to pick up some corpse. Check if the Medical Officer is around to sign death certificates. Listen and see if any relatives crying over some dying patients. See if any heart bypass patients are groaning and moaning. See if any meningitis patients are tied to the bed and thrashing like possessed. Phew…interesting sights waiting for me every morning. What a way to start the day hor?
There is no twist nor any moral nor any religious preachings to this. Just that I am surprised that after so many years, I can still feel those feelings like it just happened.
And you know what? I am so, so happy and give thanks to the Lord that I can go grocery shopping with a toddler at 8 am in the morning today. He took one baby trolley, I took one. He bought his chocs and candies. I bought my vege and seafoods. The kind cashier gave him his own plastic bag of goodies and made him feel so grown up. And McD breakfast (after the hospital flashback) never taste so good.
Thank you God for getting me through those times. You (God) made me one helluva tough nut hor? So, dear God, please give those in needs the strength and courage to carry them through their bad times. In Christ’s name, I pray. Amen!
Ok, peeps. Let’s talk about McD big breakfast. Pttuiii….how did McD survive on those cardboard muffins and sausages plus rubbery eggs? It costs me RM10 (some changes into the donation box) for those inedible stuffs. I can make better scrambled eggs anytime. The Gardenia bread is better than their muffin. And that piece of thing like someone’s unwashed old underwear is supposed to be a sausage? Hey, sausages are supposed to be shaped like a dick, ok? And for RM10, I can eat breakfast for ONE whole week, tiu. One bowl of curry mee is only RM2.