Hospital Diaries — Part 3: Laughter Behind the Ward Curtains

 

Missed Part 2? Catch up on Aunty's long road to recovery here!

Hospital Diaries — Part 2: The Long Road to Recovery

The Day They Gave Aunty Wheels ♿

Then finally came some good news.

After days of lying in bed, medication, hospital meals and staring at the same surroundings, the doctor decided I was well enough to start getting up and moving around with a walker.

FREEDOM! 

Well…

Very slow freedom. 

Walking wasn't exactly walking yet. It was more like:

Hop.

Pause.

Hop.

Rest.

Hop.

But die die, I was getting out of that ward.

Even if I could only make it to the next ward, I WENT. 

There were uncles and aunties there to talk to, things to look at, people to disturb—

Eh, sorry.

Social interaction. 

After being confined to bed for so long, even reaching the next ward felt like Aunty had gone on an overseas holiday.

Then, as the days passed, physiotherapy progressed.

And somebody made a decision.

At the time, I'm sure it seemed like a perfectly sensible medical decision.

They started putting Aunty in a wheelchair for training. 

……

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

BIGGEST MISTAKE. 

You see, until then they had one major advantage.

Aunty was slow.

Give Aunty a walker and you could hear her coming from three beds away.

Hop… hop… hop…

Plenty of warning. 

But then…

THEY GAVE AUNTY WHEELS.

Suddenly the wandering feet didn't even need to work!

♿💨💨💨

Hospital Exploration Department was officially back in business.

Now, I don't have a driving licence.

Never had one.

But apparently nobody told the wheelchair. 

Physiotherapy became my free driving lessons.

And surprisingly…

handling a wheelchair was a piece of cake.

Left turn. Easy.

Right turn. Easy.

Forward. No problem.

Brake. Can.

Aunty passed her own imaginary driving test with flying colours. 

And once I became more confident…

that was it.

After days of being trapped in bed, suddenly Aunty had TRANSPORT. 

Before long, I was wheezing down the hospital aisle, happily exploring my newly expanded territory.

Behind me came the poor therapist:

“AUNTY! AUNTY! YOU GO WHERE?!” 😱

♿💨 “JALAN-JALAN!”

No driving licence.

One injured leg.

Still under physiotherapy.

But somehow…

Aunty had become the hospital's newest unlicensed driver. 

The therapist probably thought she was teaching me wheelchair skills.

Aunty thought she had just been issued a company car. 

A Special CNY Programme For Patients 🧧

On the first day of Chinese New Year, one of the nurses came over looking rather cheerful.

Nurse: “Aunty, today Happy New Year leh! We arranged some special programmes for the patients. You want to join?”

Special programme?

Of course Aunty's ears immediately stood up. 

But she never told me what kind of programme.

So while I waited, my imagination started organising its own CNY celebration.

Maybe got dancing? 

Hmm.

Looked at my leg.

Cannot. 😑

Never mind.

Maybe got live band! 

Or karaoke also can!

Aunty sitting in wheelchair holding microphone — no need legs what. 🎤

Then I thought…

Maybe God of Fortune would come around the wards giving everybody oranges! 🍊🧧

Wah.

Not bad leh.

This hospital quite thoughtful hor. ❤️

So Aunty sat there happily waiting for the festivities to begin.

Live band?

Karaoke?

God of Fortune?

Oranges?

Maybe even some surprise CNY performance?

I waited.

And waited.

Very patiently.

Because apparently…

Aunty had completely misunderstood the meaning of “special programme.” 

Then…

The big moment Aunty had been waiting for finally arrived that afternoon.

The nurse came over.

Nurse: “Come, come! We go celebrate Chinese New Year!”

WAHHHH.

FINALLY! 

Aunty was ready.

In my mind, I could already picture the scene.

A big group of patients sitting together, everybody smiling and wishing one another Happy New Year.

Maybe oranges in our hands. 🍊

Maybe got ang baos. 🧧

Maybe even lo hei!

Or perhaps some nice CNY food waiting on the table.

After days of hospital meals, don't play play — the words “Chinese New Year celebration” can make Aunty move very fast, even with one leg. 

So off I went with the nurse, full of anticipation.

Aunty's imagination:

🍊 Oranges!
🧧 Ang baos!
🥢 Lo hei!
🎤 Maybe karaoke!
🎶 Maybe music!

Wah, everybody celebrate together…

Not bad leh.

And then we arrived.

……

Aunty looked around.

👀

Looked again.

👀👀 But… but…

One long table.

Five or six fellow senior patients.

……

👀

Aunty: “Orh… everybody haven't come yet ah?” 🤣🤣🤣

On the table were…

ANG BAO PACKETS! 🧧

Aunty's eyes lit up for approximately 0.8 seconds.

Then I realised what we were supposed to do with them.

Make lanterns.

……

Aunty: “Ang bao got…”

👀

“…but where is the $$$$?”😭

I had waited half the day for this, you know!

All morning my imagination had been upgrading the programme.

By lunchtime, practically got concert already.

By afternoon, God of Fortune was probably on his way.

Reality:

✂️ “Aunty, fold here.”

😭🤣

But I have to give the hospital credit — they really did arrange something festive for patients who couldn't be home celebrating with their families. ❤️

A CNY Souvenir Money Couldn't Buy 🏮

There we were — five or six senior patients sitting around the long table, diligently making our ang bao lanterns.

Well…

Most of us.

One uncle had apparently reviewed the programme…

and made an executive decision.

He fell asleep. 😴

Aunty looked at Uncle.

Looked at the half-made lantern.

Looked at Uncle again.

Wah. He surrendered early. 

But Aunty?

Cannot.

Once I start something, die die must finish.

Fold.

Staple.

Arrange.

Adjust.

Whatever they told me to do, I did.

After all, there was no money inside those ang bao packets already.

At least I must go home with SOMETHING, right?! 

Eventually…

TA-DAAA! My CNY ang bao lantern was completed. 🏮✨

And you bet I kept it.

Forget the missing karaoke.

Forget the imaginary lo hei.

Forget God of Fortune, who apparently couldn't find my ward. 😂

This was my hospital CNY souvenir.

Other people brought home oranges and ang baos from their CNY visits.

Aunty brought home…

one handmade lantern and one very good story. 

And Just Like That… CNY Was Over 

That was basically how my Chinese New Year passed that year.

No six-course reunion dinner.

No visiting.

No wandering around collecting ang baos.

No festive makan.

Instead, I had…

Hospital food.
Medication. 
Physiotherapy.
One wheelchair driving licence that nobody officially issued me.
And one handmade ang bao lantern with NO MONEY INSIDE. 

Before I knew it, the CNY period was over.

Just like that.

Of course I was disappointed. I had prepared for it, the reunion dinner was already sitting in the fridge, and suddenly everything changed because of one stupid fall from a chair.

But looking back now…

I missed one Chinese New Year.

I gained one very strange Chinese New Year story. 

And somewhere in all this, I think the chair is still keeping very quiet.

Good.

You better. 🪑😑

When My Feet Couldn't Wander… My Mind Did 

For days, my world was basically one hospital bed.

I wanted to get up.

Nurse: “Aunty, cannot.”

Okay lor.

I tried to turn myself around and get comfortable.

Leg: “Aunty, ALSO cannot.”

Get up cannot.

Turn properly cannot.

Walk around cannot.

Go kaypoh definitely cannot.

So what CAN Aunty do?! 

My wandering feet were completely out of service.

Unfortunately for everybody else…

my wandering mind was working perfectly well. 

Apparently, there was one part of me nobody could keep in bed.

My imagination.

After lying there day after day, my wandering feet may have been temporarily out of service…

…but my wandering mind was working OVERTIME. 

After staring at the same hospital surroundings day after day, my imagination started finding its own entertainment.

I looked at myself lying there and thought…

Give me a head full of hair rollers.

Put both hands on my hips.

Add one sufficiently fierce expression.

And suddenly—

包租婆(Lady Landlord) HAS ENTERED THE WARD. 

In my imagination, Nurse came over:

Nurse: “Aunty, how is your leg today?”

包租婆 Aunty: “LEG LATER!”

“WHO NEVER PAY RENT?!” 

Nurses running.

Patients hiding.

Whole ward suddenly requesting early discharge. 🏃‍♀️💨

Meanwhile the real Aunty was still lying obediently in bed…😇

Thankfully, all this happened entirely inside my imagination.

No nurses were chased.
No patients were evicted.
And no rent was collected during my hospital stay. 

Aunty Goes Home… Peace Returns To The Ward 

Doctor: “Good news, Aunty. You can go home today.”

Aunty: 😍 “REALLY?!”

Meanwhile at the nurses' station:

👩‍⚕️🥂👨‍⚕️🥂
POP!!! 🍾

“She's going home!”

Maintenance guy crawling out from under another bed:

“Confirmed ah?!” 

Physiotherapist checking the corridor:

“Wheelchair returned?”

“Returned.”

“Both brakes still working?”

“Working.”

“Okay. OPEN CHAMPAGNE.” 🍾

And somewhere, one uncle wakes up from the CNY lantern session:

“Huh? Programme start already ah?” 😴🏮

Aunty: “Uncle… CNY finish already lah!” 

But I discovered something important during those long days.

When Aunty's feet cannot wander…

the imagination will find somewhere else to go. 

Hospital Diaries — Part 2: The Long Road to Recovery

Missed Part 1? Read how Aunty's wandering suddenly came to a halt here!

Hospital Diaries — Part 1: The Day Aunty's Wandering Came to a Halt

Our Very Special CNY Hospital Feast 

Poor Hubby asked the most practical question possible:

Hubby: “Then how ah? CNY meals?”

Aunty lying in hospital, leg awaiting surgery, reunion dinner stranded in the fridge…

💡 BRILLIANT IDEA.

“Hospital food court open, right?”

“DABAO LOH!” 

And so, while other families were sitting around their reunion tables with all the festive goodies…

Poor Hubby and Mama had to make do with whatever was available from the hospital food court.

Chicken rice.
Char kway teow.
Fishball noodles. 

Meanwhile, somewhere out there…

Shark fin! Abalone! CNY feast! 

And somewhere inside Aunty's fridge at home…

SIX COURSES WAITING FOR THEIR FAMILY TO COME BACK. 

I can already imagine Hubby looking at his packet of chicken rice:

Hubby: “This is our CNY dinner?”

Aunty: “Got chicken what. Very festive.” 

Mama opening her fishball noodles:

Mama: “Abalone leh?”

Aunty: “Round round also mah…” 

And Aunty herself?

Lying in hospital feeling very clever because CNY Catering Department had been successfully outsourced to the food court. 

When Pills Outnumbered My Meals 💊

Days passed.

And slowly, hospital life settled into a routine.

Medication.

More medication.

Another little cup of pills.

Then somebody appeared with…

more pills. 

After a while, I swear I was taking more pills than I was eating proper meals.

Now, you all know Aunty.

Food is VERY important. 

I can tolerate being stuck in bed.

I can tolerate Nurse telling me, “Aunty, cannot.”

I can even tolerate my own leg joining the opposition party and telling me, “Aunty, also cannot.”

But hospital food…

Aunty lifted the lid.

Looked inside.

Paused.

Sighhhhhhh. 

Of course, hospital meals have an important job to do. They aren't there to win a food award or make Aunty shout, “WAH! ADD ONE MORE BOWL!” 

But when your daily entertainment already consists of staring at the ceiling, taking medication and negotiating with one uncooperative leg…

makan becomes a VERY important event, okay! 

Some people in hospital wait eagerly for the doctor.

Some wait for visiting hours.

Aunty?

“Lunch coming already or not?” 

And then lunch arrived.

Aunty opened it.

……

“Orh.” 

One Hour Of Freedom… And Aunty Had Plans 

Once I was well enough, we were sometimes allowed to go downstairs for an hour — provided a family member accompanied us.

So whenever Hubby or my daughter came to visit, the negotiation would begin.

“Aunty, one hour ah. Must come back.”

Okay, okay.

Then came the dangerous sentence:

“Your time starts now.”

“WAIT WAIT WAIT!” 

“One hour not enough!”

“You want to go where?”

“Food court loh.”

“One hour not enough to eat?”

HELLO.

Normal person maybe enough.

Aunty got buffet leh. 🤣

Chicken rice.

Japanese set meal.

Char kway teow.

Curry chicken.

Wanton mee.

And you give me ONE HOUR?!

What do you expect me to do?

Drive-by makan?! ♿💨

After days of hospital food, that food court wasn't a food court anymore.

It was Disneyland. 

Aunty had one hour of freedom, one wheelchair, one accompanying relative…

and approximately five meals worth of ambition. 

Hubby or Daughter probably thought their job was to accompany the patient downstairs.

Wrong.

They were the pit crew. 

“Quick! Next stall!”

♿💨💨💨

The Human CCTV Under My Bed 👀

One morning, another patient and I were chit-chatting.

She was like me — also warded over Chinese New Year.

Then she suddenly had an idea.

Patient: “Actually hor… how nice if we cut off our identification strips, take a bus home, then later come back.” 

Aunty considered this very seriously.

“Good idea! You can lah. You can walk.”

Then I looked at my own situation.

One working leg.

One very uncooperative leg.

“I one-legged pirate, HOW?!” 

We were happily discussing our completely unauthorised CNY escape plan when suddenly—

A voice came from…

BELOW MY BED.

😳

“Staff! Got patient trying to plan escape!”

WAH PIANG EH!!! 

I nearly jumped out of bed.

Well…

I couldn't.

LEG SAID CANNOT. 

Then this man actually crawled out from underneath the bed next to mine.

CHEY!

Maintenance guy!

He had been underneath there checking something on the bed while the two of us were upstairs planning The Great CNY Escape. 

He looked at me and smiled.

Maintenance guy: “Aunty want to go shopping ah?”

Aunty:

“GO AWAY LAH. YOU HUMAN CCTV.” 

And that is why one should always check underneath one's hospital bed before discussing confidential escape plans.

You never know when the hospital surveillance system is wearing maintenance uniform. Human CCTV, battery not included!

*P.S. Actually, patients could request permission to go home for a few hours and return within an agreed time. But there we were, two aunties happily plotting our own Great CNY Escape!

The hospital adventures aren't over yet! More laughter awaits in Part 3.

Hospital Diaries — Part 3: Laughter Behind the Ward Curtains

Hospital Diaries — Part 1: The Day Aunty's Wandering Came to a Halt

My Wandering Feet Are Back 👣❤️

It has been a long, long while since I last updated this blog, and some of you may have wondered where I disappeared to.

Well… I didn’t exactly disappear.

My wandering feet simply decided to go on medical leave! 

About two years ago, a leg injury brought my usual wandering to an unexpected stop. I eventually had to undergo surgery, followed by a long period of recovery.

And when I say long…

I mean LONG. 

For someone who loves wandering around, poking her nose into interesting little places, hunting down old buildings, taking photographs and — most importantly — finding something delicious to eat along the way, suddenly not being able to walk about freely was quite a change.

So the blog became quiet too.

There weren't many wandering adventures to write about when the chief wanderer's leg wasn't cooperating! 

But throughout it all, the wandering spirit never really went away.

The feet may have been resting… but the eyes were still looking, the mind was still curious, and the stomach was DEFINITELY still interested in food. 

And now, after one very long pit stop, I'm finally getting back onto my feet and venturing beyond my neighbourhood again.

Perhaps I won't walk quite as fast.

Perhaps there will be more coffee breaks, more sitting down and a few conversations with my legs:

“Oi… behave yourself ah!” 

But that's perfectly fine.

Because wandering was never about how quickly we got somewhere.

It was about enjoying what we found along the way.

So today feels a little special.

After almost two years of recovery…

My Wandering Feet are back. 

Maybe a little more careful, definitely a little slower — but just as curious as ever.

Now then…

Where shall these feet bring us next? 

But Before We Wander Off… 

Before these wandering feet take us outside again, I still owe you a few stories from the time they were temporarily grounded.

Because being stuck in a hospital bed doesn't mean nothing happened.

Oh no.

When Aunty cannot wander…

Aunty observes. 

And when Aunty observes for too long…

stories happen. 

I do have a few funny little memories from my hospital stay — things I saw, things that happened, and probably a few things that only became funny after I came home. 

So before we send these wandering feet back onto the road…

come, I tell you what happened in the hospital. 

So… What Happened To My Leg? 

It was Chinese New Year spring-cleaning time.

And somewhere between trying to make the house nice-nice for CNY and believing that Aunty was still qualified for high-altitude cleaning…

I climbed onto a chair. 

🪑

Yes.

A chair.

Not a ladder.
Not a staircase.
Not Mount Everest.

A CHAIR. 

Clumsy Aunty somehow managed to fall off it.

And before anybody says:

“Huh? Fall off a chair only mah…”

HELLO.

Have you ever seen an elephant fall off a chair?! 

The impact, okay!

No earthquake was recorded — thank God. 

Unfortunately, my leg didn't find the situation quite so funny.

And luckily nobody asked me:

“Aunty… the chair got injured or not?”

Because at that point…

somebody else might have needed medical attention too. 

THE CHAIR HAS BEEN WARNED!

🪑: “Excuse me… I also sustained one broken leg—”

Aunty: “DON'T COMPLAIN. I ALSO GOT BROKEN LEG.” 

🪑: “But mine—”

Aunty: “You wait. YOU WAIT. Until I come home…”

🪑: 😰

“…I BEAT YOUR LITTLE LEG.” 

🪑: “I withdraw my complaint.”

From “Orh, Okay” To “WHAT?!” 

Off to A&E went Aunty.

The doctor adjusted his glasses and looked rather serious.

Doctor: “We need to do an X-ray.”

Aunty: “Orh… okay.” 😌

After the X-ray…

Doctor: “You'll need surgery.”

Aunty: “Orh… okay.” 😐

Then came the next one.

Doctor: “You'll have to be warded.”

Aunty: “Orh… okay…” 😶

So far, Aunty was remarkably cooperative.

X-ray? Okay.

Surgery? Okay.

Ward? Also okay.

Then came the sentence that finally woke Aunty up.

Doctor: “You won't be able to go home for Chinese New Year.”

……

Aunty: “WHAT?! THAT ONE NOT OKAY LEH!” 😱

Suddenly the leg injury was no longer the emergency.

CNY WAS IN DANGER. 

All the spring cleaning that started this whole disaster…

and now Aunty wasn't even going to be home to enjoy the clean house!

HELLO?! THEN I FELL OFF THE CHAIR FOR WHAT?! 

MY SIX-COURSE CNY REUNION DINNER IS STILL PACKED INSIDE MY FRIDGE! 

Surgery, Aunty accepted.

Hospital stay, Aunty accepted.

But somewhere at home sat six innocent courses, fully prepared for reunion dinner, wondering why nobody had turned up. 

At that moment, I think my priorities became very clear.

Leg: injured.
Aunty: hospitalised.
Reunion dinner: UNATTENDED.

THIS ONE CANNOT. 

Aunty's recovery journey continues in Part 2!

Hospital Diaries — Part 2: The Long Road to Recovery