PrevPost: This crappy feeling

By UnkleBus
*Ported from Multiply

Is there any word to describe how bad one feels at the verge of falling sick? The feeling of being wrenched inside, eyes and breath burning but yet feeling damn cold? I think it’s called a fever dammit. I really hate this. Normally I would walk in the office greeting everyone (well almost …) with a cheerful GOOD MORNING but today wearing a black shirt and greenish-brown-grey pants, my mood is very sombre. The part I hate most is, having to force a smile when someone passes by. Guhh… it just feels like a ton of bricks.

It reminds me of once when I got really sick, down with dengue fever and was hospitalized. I was to be transferred to the ward at some government hospital. Can’t exactly remember the name but I was supposed to be in a twin sharing room in one of the better facilities at the hospital. My dad being a senior civil servant was entitled to upgraded facilities but there wasn’t a room available. The only place where they could chuck me was in the general ward. (It was some time back so I can’t remember the proper names). Now this place is just like from the movies. Cool! Yeah? How about a war movie? heh. See the place is just large hall without air-conditioning, smelt unpleasant and if I remember correctly was full with about 200+ sick or dying patients.

A dying man’s wisdom

They placed me in a bed beside an Indian man. He was hooked up to drips and had some tubes up his nose. He looked very frail, weak, skin and bones mostly. Being my curious self we started talking and found out that he was suffering from fluid flooding his lungs and some unknown medical condition whereby he could not ingest food or liquids. In other words he was dying of hunger. The drip, according to the nurse wasn’t working well because he showed no improvement. I felt really embarrassed and guilty when my brother showed up the next day and brought me roasted chicken from Kenny Rogers for lunch. I found out that he was a police officer and had a wife who passed away. Maybe he had kids but I didn’t see any of them at his bedside. He was actually a very pleasant guy, funny even. I found his presence comforting. He hardly spoke most of the time but when he did it was soft and fragile.

On the third day I was to be transferred out into the other building, a different classification. He was sleeping at the time so I didn’t wake him to say goodbye. He looked peaceful and calm. I’ll always remember the words he told me the day before... “Life never gets better than what you make of it, so make the best of it while you can”. I never knew what happened to him, whether he is still alive or not. Its funny how sometimes people who seem insignificant in the beginning carry such words of wisdom that become significant only some time later. I hope that if he did go it was painless and if he is alive that we’ll meet again sometime.