Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Give Me Strength

At the Sabah Medical Centre.

A few years back when I was visiting YB in London, I fell really ill. I thought I was just battling a normal flu bug, with fever, hot and cold sweat and at times I would be shivering like crazy.

When I think about The Lion King musical, I remember dressed up in my jacket and shivering in my seat. The guy seated on my other side must have been really puzzled. Then halfway through the show, when I stopped shivering, I got warm and took off my jacket.

It wasn't until that night that despite being bundled up in sweaters and a jacket and 2 pairs of socks, that YB decided that he had to bring me to the nearest emergency ward in Kingston Hospital.

With an extremely high temperature, they warded me and stripped me into just a gown. They said they had to bring my temperature down and the layers of clothing wasn't helping at all. A fan was put by my side, constantly blowing at me, and I was refused a blanket despite my request for it.

That was probably our saddest New Year countdown. YB wasn't allowed to spend the night by my side, so he had to go home. I was pretty much half blind as I had forgotten my glasses for this UK trip and I couldn't even watch TV properly.

They took my blood sample for a culture in order to determine what was wrong with me.

Two days later, I insisted on a self-discharge because I needed to get on my flight back to KL. I had to sign a disclaimer and indemnity form as I was discharging against the doctor's wishes. The doctor was very kind to give me a copy of his notes so I could hand it to my doctor.

I was pretty thankful that during my flight back, I had the entire row of seats with me. I shivered occasionally but it was bearable.

When I got back, I couldn't report to work, and I went straight to my doctor, who said that by the looks of it, I should be admitted straight into the hospital.

I'm not sure whether at that juncture, YB had already informed me that the results of the culture came back, and I had e.coli.

I had WC accompany me for my admission to Pantai Medical Centre and well, I didn't like it but I had to call to tell my mum what was going on. She flew in that evening, I think.

My mum was by my side most of the time. She had my aunts and uncles and cousins for company, so that was good. I just felt hopeless, lying in bed, attached to drip.

Only a colleague came to visit, and my then boss visited the day I was discharged from the hospital.

Hospitals. The smell of disinfectant occasionally jolts me into that time I was in Kingston Hospital.

Prayers. If you could float through the hospital rooms and listen carefully to the minds and heartbeats of the people, you'd hear their silent prayers.

Strength. Through the years, I have only prayed and asked for God to give me strength to deal with anything and everything that comes my way. I don't ask for miracles or cures, is that silly of me? I do give thanks first, however, before beginning my prayers. *shrug* I don't have a long list of requests, that's for sure.

Everyone is secretly terrified right now, but I have told them that all of us would need to stay strong. There is no point in being hysterical, because that could open the floodgates of tears and well, we need to focus on positive thinking and energy.

The road to recovery will be hard, but we will get through it.