CHAPTER 4

2024-12-9

The transplant was carried out after midnight. My younger sister-in-law rushed to visit me but was shut outside the closed entrance of the General Hospital. My wife raced from the closest hotel to comfort her. My sister-in-law’s kind action has been imprinted in my heart till now.

Since 2000, I frequented in and out of the hospital for different diseases. We lived far away from the hospital and my wife was not good at driving. To take care of me, she would rent to stay in the closest hotel till my discharge when necessary. The first winter snow started descending at the time of the transplant. Always she had to walk on thin ice just by herself facing an uncertain future.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MALE AND FEMALE NURSES

I was very weak and felt foggy in ICU after the surgery with a heavy dose of anesthetic medicine. Yet I could recall the services with might, including body turning, bed setting, X-ray transportation, provided by the two male nurses who acted like bone crackers. I could only wish for the next shift by female nurses.

The female nurses were tendering and caring. Yet they had to rebuke me later. The trigger was the tube which was inserted into my lung through my mouth. This alien accessory made me quite uncomfortable. Unconsciously, I corrected its position when needed. I was stopped doing so by the nurses because my vocal cord could be damaged to the point that no more speech could be made. Finally my forgetfulness angered them. Still they could not do much to me.

THE PATIENT HAS A TANTRUM

Then during sleep two hands were felt squeezing my left arm and palm nonstop for minutes. It became so annoying that I pushed the hands away forcefully (I am a native Chiuchowness, China, who are famous for temperamental toughness.). Immediately my bed was surrounded by male and female workers, and I fell asleep quickly.

I couldn't move and was tied to the bed after waking up. I was helpless. When the room was brighter a nurse came and asked softly, “Mr. Chan, do you remember me?” “Yes.” I nodded my head. I was aware of what happened the night before, somewhat. After this incident, I was nicknamed “Fugitive”.

During a follow-up visit to the hospital a few months later, I found the nurse squeezing my arm and palm for needle insertion constantly. Then I realized that I had wrongfully accused the nurse on that night.