Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Hospital Experience 2

During the first semester of my first high school year, I was 11 then, had an accident that required hospital stay. It happened at the end of lunch break that I was tripped accidentally in the crowded hallway next to classrooms and hit the concrete floor hard. Right after I slowly got up from the fall, I felt a serious pain on my left palm. I guess it was because my left hand smacked on the floor really hard, though the pain was so intense that I thought my left hand was broken, it retreated quite fast surprisingly. On the contrary, I felt numbness on the right elbow. It wasn’t painful at first, but a loss of strength to move on its own. I then tried to move my right forearm while gripped by my still-sore left hand, I felt a ‘deeper’ pain inside my right elbow. I was sitting in my seat for the first class in the afternoon, but the pain simply put me off attention of what was going on in the class. After 10-15 minutes or so without any improvement, I couldn’t help but raise my left hand and told my teacher that I had an accident before the class and needed to take go to report that to the school admin office. After I told the staff there what was going on, I was driven to hospital by a priest of my Catholic high school in his car.

Once I got there after a ten minute rather subdue ride in the car, I was going through the usual at the hospital: admission, x-ray, settle in patient’s ward, and my dad was contacted. I remember the first thing I asked my dad after he had arrived the hospital was where my school bag was and he told me that he picked that up from the school already. I was put in a temp plaster cast to hold my right arm at a 90 degree. My left wrist was connected to a bottle of sugar i.v. and left in bed till the day got dark.

My surgery was scheduled to take place after 11 something at night. I was not allowed to eat or even drink anything before surgery. By the time I was on the way rolling in the surgery room, a nurse was asking how I was feeling. I told her that I was fine, but my voice was so ‘low’ that she was questioning if I was really alright. I struggled to tell her that I had not drunk anything in the last 12 hours. She then dropped fill drops of water in my mouth with a syringe and that was really the sweetest water I had ever tasted in my life. Well, to these days, I still not sure if that was water or glucose water which was supposed to be sweet. Then, I passed out on the surgery bed and everything went dark for me….

Well, I struggled to lift my eyelids to see what’s going on. It was already in late morning. I felt very weak and tired. I couldn’t feel my body below my neck at the beginning though I was able to see things around me. Then, I looked down, my right arm was in plaster case with a tube coming out from the heavy bandages to a bottle hanging on the right side of my bed. I could barely feel something from my right hand fingers. After a while, I regain some strength on my left arm and my legs. I remember I felt cold all over my body, though I was in blanket. Later, lunch time started, but I couldn’t move much and didn’t feel hunger for eating. Still, I ate something, didn’t remember what I ate and whether I was fed or ate myself with my left hand.

I had stayed in the hospital for 4 days. I don’t remember too much about the whole experience except two things.

I was in a big patient ward, there was a man in his late twenties or in early thirty with mustache who had similar injury as myself. Certainly, I’m no doctor and didn’t know what exactly his injury was, cuz I’d never talked to him as our beds were far apart. The reason why I noticed him was because we had to take the same medicine for the same frequency – every six hours (6am, 12noon, 6pm, midnight). It was a transparent liquid that got injected to my veins through i.v. connection. It was painful during the injection but it usually last 10 minutes or so before the pain receded. That man in the bed opposite mine cried for pain few times during the injections. I still remember that his brother and a woman who could be his wife/girlfriend/sister (not sure) even stayed behind the visiting hours to comfort him once. I remembered that I didn’t cry at all and was kinda proud of myself that I was able to withstand the pain unlike that grown man, just a silly thought of a boy.

The second thing that I remembered is also related to that painful injection. It happened on the third day in hospital. After taking the 6pm shot, I didn’t know if it was because that nurse that gave me injection was having a bad mood or in a rush, she rushed the injection and simply wanna get that done quick. It caused a much greater pain than usual and the pain didn’t recede as it supposed to be. The worst was that I could see my blood was running up the i.v. tube for almost a foot long from my left forearm. I just had to call someone, someone to pay attention. Fortunately, another nurse walked by and attended my call. She sat at my bedside and began slowly massage my left forearm, gently rubbing down my swollen vein for almost 20 minutes. That was really helpful and got my pain receded at the end. I can’t recall what she looked like, but her gently massage was certainly memorable even in these days. Afterwards, I remembered I begged the doctor to give me oral medicine instead of that injection after that incident, and thank God that he was surprisingly okayed my request. I then thought that if such pill exists, why the hell I had to gone through those painful injections then? Anyway, I’d never got that answer.

On Day 4, I was discharged from the hospital and got transported to a ‘recovery’ center on an ambulance.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Hospital Experience 1

My first hospital experience took place when I was still in K school. I only remember that was because my pee was not normal. Namely, its color wasn't transparent or yellow, but looked like cranberry juice. I didn’t feel any pain or any discomfort. My parents somehow discovered such symptom and took me to see doctor at a clinic affiliated with my dad’s employer. Then, I was sent to hospital for few days, went through a surgery that I didn’t recall any discomfort before or after. Afterwards, I was discharged and went back home. Life was then resumed back to normal. Certainly, the color of my pee was no longer like cranberry juice again.

As far as I remember, I only remember few tip bits about the whole experience:

1. I remember that I got few new toys when I was in hospital bed. I don’t recall that I’d ever got few new toys in such a short period of time. One of the toys was some wooden widgets with holes and poles, etc that I could use to construct things.

2. I remember the first time of inhaling an anaesthetic, I just passed out in a snap after counting to ten along with the nurse while I looked up to her masked face under the bright light in surgery room.

3. I remember the first time I ate jello and ice-cream together as dessert in the hospital.

4. Lastly, the plastic ‘duck’ that was used for peeing in bed was new to me too.

To these days, I still don’t know what the exact cause of the problem was. I’ve never read the hospital discharge records. Well, that’s fine with me as I was 100% recovered.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Kindergarten

I didn’t go to nursery school nor K1 back then. Instead, I hopped into K2 when I was 3 years old and stay in the same kindergarten for 2 years before moving to primary school.

Regarding my memory in K-school, I still remember bit and pieces of how my first day went. I had to take school van to go to that Catholic K-school which was located few miles away from my home. I was taken by my dad to wait for the school van at the gate of where we leave which was a complex of subsidized housing of my dad’s employer. At that time, I was in white school uniform with a red schoolbag. I had no idea where I was going and what. The reason why I still can remember that today was because I was put on the school van by my dad and being left there. Then, the van left. I remember that I look back to see my dad waving me and I just cried out loud. I tried to stand up and looked back but the van was moving down the steep road quick and made a left turn. I couldn’t see my dad anymore and was left in a strange vehicle with few other kids and didn’t know where we were heading. It must be a terrified ride in my early life.

Once the van stopped, I got off the van with many other kids of my age, it was probably the first time I saw many others of my age, dressed a like in the same premise. I remember that I looked up to the stairs to the K-school which was built up on a hill with 2 compounds. Certainly, I remember that I wasn’t crying when I arrived there.

I don’t remember much of my K-School life there. I only remember few bits and pieces:

Sister Tam who had taken care of me very well. She even visited my home and met my parent.

I could recite few prayers that I learned back then word by word even these days.

The K-school is co-ed. I remember that there was a girl with 2 pony tails who loved to imitate what I did and followed me around. I found that to be annoying and went to wait in line to go to the boys’ room. She queued behind me but was pulled away by the adults to the line for girls’ room.

There was a white porcelain Holy Mary statue outside the school compound.

Other than the above, not much else.

I think I had revisited my K-school in my second year in secondary school. I don’t remember why I went there. I only remember that happened on a non-school day as there were no kids around. I tried to sit on a chair there and found that it was so small.

My last memory about my K-school was that Sister Tam died when I was in my third or fourth year in secondary school. At that time, I went to supplementary English courses in the evening at a Catholic school nearby. I learned of her dead on a noticeboard there at the staircase.

The K-school was closed. I don’t remember exactly when that happened. The compounds are still there, they had been converted and are now being run as retirement home for the elderly.

Earliest memory

My earliest memory of myself is perhaps 30 seconds to a minute of being in a green fabric baby-walker outdoor with sun behind me. I guess the time was perhaps in late afternoon. Cuz, my vivid memory was looking at my own shadow while I was struggling to get myself moving away from the sun as it was getting a bit hot. I can’t recall what had happened before or after, but the image of my own shadow while I was in that baby-walker is differently something still retained in my memory.

The other clips of memory would be being hold in my dad’s arms with my mom sitting on my right on some stairs while someone was trying to take pictures of three of us. The image wasn’t very clear, but this memory clip is mere a reflection of a black-and-white photo that I had in my childhood.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Why this blog exists?

There are 3 reasons I start this blog.

1) I want to record some thoughts and memories of my personal past. I do have a more open blog which has been run for more than 2 years that I use to blog about my current state of life. However, as that blog is tagged with my name, I couldn’t blog too explicitly about my deep down feelings or some relatively personal information that would trigger uninvited attention.

2) I didn’t have a habit of writing diary when I was young. I would like to use this blog to record what I was missing back then. That’s also where the name of this blog comes from. I think this blog would be nice for myself as well. Cuz, old people do forget things, I hope I can record what is still on my mind when I still can. I think it would be nice to read these blogs when I’m old.

3) I’ve a son who is still very young. I would like to leave this blog for him in future as a way to understand more about his dad….if he really wants to. Also, for God sake, if anything happens to me before I would like to. It would still be nice as a piece of gift left behind to my love ones.

Most of the content of the blogs here will have no specific dates attach, year of occurrence would be my best guess. They won’t be corresponded to chronological sequence. Therefore, the best way to read them would be according to the year and category in the labels.

Also, though I plan to be truthfully in the blog, as there will still other people be mentioned. I will still keep their names somewhat anonymous, so as to protect them from being find out accidentally.