JANUARY 1 — I am writing this column one-handed due to an IV port, from a hospital bed as I begin my first chemotherapy treatment.
It’s been a whirlwind of diagnoses, tests, reports and hospital-hopping but for now it seems I will be staying put at a government hospital.
As has been my experience at previous hospitals, the doctors and staff have all been kind and considerate.
“I hope they won’t be mean,” has been my mantra each time I visited a new hospital or seen a new doctor, and while that seems like such a low bar, my previous run-ins with pompous doctors and nasty nurses have made me rather hospital-phobic.
The biggest difference between public and private hospitals is just how busy the medical staff is in comparison.
Make no mistake, these days even private hospitals are getting crowded with long wait times.
However, in public hospitals there are so many more people to see, making it a daily challenge for doctors, especially as staffing concerns grow.
Impressions from the oncology ward
The oncology ward I am in is airy, no air conditioning here, just open windows and busy ceiling fans, which is probably better air circulation-wise.
The standard issue patient garb is fairly comfortable — a loose set of blue and white striped cotton shirt and pants, with ‘For Hospital Use only’ stamped on them in black lettering.
An older woman is in the bed next to mine, occasionally playing loud Cantonese videos in phone speaker mode.
I can’t really fault her as it’s not like we have a TV.
My medication will only be administered around 2-3pm so I am spending my morning lounging and of course writing this column.
A fairly young doctor dropped by to explain my new schedule: there will be chemo every three weeks and on the seventh day of each cycle I will need to get myself injected with a booster to keep my white blood cell count up.
This is my life now, and at least I’ve had time to make my peace with being a cancer patient.
Speaking of peace, it would be nice if things just weren’t so fraught where religion is concerned in this country.
Turning to God, gods or the question of faith is an almost humdrum rite of passage for a lot of people.
As I get older I have come to the understanding that another person’s faith shouldn’t be my problem and that people can find comfort in both believing in a higher power or not believing.
While to some, the notion of there not being something beyond this life seems bleak and dissatisfying, to others it is a liberating “truth”.
I put truth in quotes because I do not want to be pilloried for blasphemy, when I am just acknowledging that when it comes to faith, many people use “belief” and “truth” interchangeably.
What I do believe to be true is that faith can be a beautiful thing, so long as we do not use it as an excuse to be unkind nor justify it as a reason to find issue with how another person believes.
Give to God what belongs to God, and to humans, deliver the goodness that we are capable of when we can see past our differences, whether it is in how we believe or whether we think Village Park Nasi Lemak is all that.
Personally I prefer Botak Nasi Lemak but we can all have our nasi lemak and eat it too, in the spirit of shared humanity, even if not shared tastes.
Happy New Year, Malaysians. Jom makan.
Be First to Comment