CHAPTER 29

Original (Published in "Lun's World"): 2005-06-01

Rewritten: 2025-09-16

Lun fell ill. Over the years he has learned something important—that doctors are there to help him feel better. So now, when we tell him it’s time to see the doctor, he no longer resists.

At eighteen, he has grown in maturity. I could see it clearly today in the way he interacted with Dr. Shih, our male family doctor.

That morning on Saturday he woke unusually early, around seven o’clock, several hours before his normal rising time. He let out a couple of low groans—his way of telling us something wasn’t right.

When I went into his room and called his name, he looked at me with vacant eyes. I touched his forehead, his cheeks, then his hands and feet—they were warm. To be sure, I washed my hands and checked his younger brother’s temperature for comparison. There was no doubt about it: Lun had a fever.

My wife had mentioned the evening before that he seemed off after school—uneasy, without appetite. Only after taking some cold medicine did he start eating. The weather has been unpredictable lately, making it easy to catch something.

When I told Lun that we needed to see the doctor, he nodded and even gave me a small smile. Ten years ago, the scene would have been very different. Back then, he would have protested loudly, refused to move, and created an uproar if we tried to bring him to a clinic or hospital.

But now he understands. He knows that the doctor can help. I remember the last time he went for a flu shot. For the first time, he didn’t need us to hold him still. The doctor told him, “You can make noise, but you cannot move.” Though nervous, he sat quietly and received the injection without a struggle.

This time, sitting in the waiting room, he was calm. When Dr. Shih came in, Lun even guided the doctor’s hand to his back, showing him where to place the stethoscope to listen to his breathing. After the check-up, he left the clinic smiling, as if a burden had been lifted.

Medication is another story. Lun never learned how to swallow pills, so the doctor prescribes liquid medicine whenever possible. If pills are necessary, we crush them into powder. Sometimes the powder won’t dissolve in water, but mixing it with sugar spreads the bitterness and makes it easier to swallow. He trusts us completely—he never resists when we give him medicine.

Still, some medicines taste dreadful. After taking them, Lun shivers, his whole face contorting as if his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were all being pulled toward the center. To soften the bitterness, we always keep a can of 7-Up or Sprite nearby, ready to offer him a quick sip. I often think, if he were asked to drink a full bowl of bitter Chinese herbal tea, it would be nearly impossible.

Since Lun cannot speak, people often wonder how we know when he is sick. Over the years, we’ve learned to read the signs:

In our family, there is a curious hereditary trait—when unwell, our eyelids tend to shift from single to double folds.

With a cold or flu, the signs are unmistakable: runny nose, cough, fever, sweating, fatigue, and anxious sounds.

When his head hurts, he pats his forehead with his hand.

With a sore throat, he makes exaggerated swallowing motions or shows discomfort while eating.

Stomach troubles reveal themselves through changes in appetite, signs of nausea, difficulty in the washroom, or unusual stool in color, texture, or volume. Sometimes he presses his hand against his abdomen.

After so many years of living closely with him, my wife and I rarely miss these signals.