A Humbling Week, Part Two

Today is Annie's first full day back from the hospital, and the living room has been converted to a mini-bedroom. She is happy, and receiving lots of visitors, like the queen that she is.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. So back in the Sarawak General, the doctors were young, the old men were fruity, and everything was busy and overcrowded. But somehow, the place didn't exude the fear and anxiety that I always remember from trips to hospital as a child - the reek of disinfectant and human vomit was completely absent from the Female Surgical Ward. At least it was when I was there anyway...

On Wednesday, after a seemingly interminable wait for the call to go for the operation, the nurse came to give Annie her sedative, and another two nurses came along with a bed which Annie climbed nervously onto, with her saline drip attached carefully to a hook above the bed. We all followed this procession slowly out of the ward to the lifts and, eventually, to the operation suite on level one.

This place had a glass sliding door leading to a vestibule with further sliding doors opening onto a mini-ward where the patients to be operated on were presumably given their anaesthetics and readied for the knife.

It all reminded me somehow of an airport departure area. Watching Annie's bed, alongside that of Pak Cik Tongkat Ali's wife, being wheeled through the doors into the brightly lit surgical area, to be checked and fussed over by a coterie of doctors and nurses was so much like watching the one you love go through the security checks, the immigration checks and finally through to the departure lounge to board the aircraft.

You never know if you will ever see them again because when they go through those doors, whether to the aircraft or to the operating theatre, you know that your loved ones are in the hands of highly skilled professionals and, of course, in the hands of the Almighty. You no longer have any control.

So when Annie finally passed out of view, a few tears did well up in my eyes, but in the end I knew she was a strong girl. So I prepared for the three hour wait for her operation to be over. Taking the kids for a well-deserved breakfast, then returning to the family waiting area, I endured the long wait - regularly punctuated by Pak Tongkat Ali constantly getting up to ask the nurse for news about his wife, and him regaling me and all and sundry (especially the female all and sundry!). Myself, I just sat down on the seat, reading my Qur'an and occasionally getting up to walk around and talk to the other members of Annie's family who were with me.

Finally, after about four hours - 1. 30 pm local time - a bed appeared in the vestibule and it was Annie, obviously out of it. She had had a long operation. We followed her bed back up to the ward, and she was installed in a new bed near the window and hooked up to the saline and morphine supply. She looked serene and sleepy, sometimes opening her eyes a bit and saying something to me. I told her I loved her. She had a small drainage pouch attached to her wound by a red and blue pipe. Her hospital greens hid the wound that had been given to her, to save her life. I guess that wound will remain hidden, for a while at least.

To cut a long story short, Annie was fine - I knew that because she was snoring in her sleep! Later in the evening, she woke up and lucidly talked to us, the only bad symptom being the post-anaesthetic nausea which made her sick for a while. I stayed with her till late at night, when I took the kids to pick up her sister Anita from the airport, and took Anita to stay the night by Annie's bedside with her other sister Doris.

And the next day, Annie was pronounced free to go. She was up, smiling, joking, eating chicken rice porridge and walking around gingerly, holding onto her blood-filled drainage pouch. The doctors and nurses were amazed by how quickly she had recovered from such a major operation. She was not suffering any pain, and had been un-hooked from the morphine supply the previous day. She didn't even need Panadol!

Annie said that her prayers, her faith in Allah Almighty and the herbal medicines she had been taking before the operation were a factor in her swift, relatively painless recovery. And I totally agree with her. I would also add that she is a damn tough cookie!

So she was discharged at 7 pm yesterday (Thursday) and, after a training session from the nurses in how to change and monitor the drainage pouch, we all packed up Annie's things and left for home. I daresay there was someone else more needy of the vacant bed.

To finish off this long posting, I must say a few things about the nurses, the little angels in stiff white uniforms with those little lace doily hats. They worked so tirelessly, going from bed to bed changing dressings, checking things, writing things down on clipboards, checking blood pressure and temperature. They were efficient, un-rushed and seemed to be very happy despite their constant state of activity. No sweat, no complaints that I heard anyway. Wonderful people doing a sometimes galling job in what I suspect is an environment where not all of the equipment or infrastructure is of the best quality. I salute every one of them, as I do whenever I enter a hospital.

If I ever have to go into the SGH, or any other hospital for that matter as a patient, I want to be looked after by the likes of them. I see no need to spend thousands of dollars to stay in a medical hotel (private hospital), to be treated like a lord just because I have the money. If I want that, I'll go and stay in the Hilton.

Gentle readers, never look down on nurses, or nursing attendants, or hospital doctors, or any of the quiet army of miracle workers who make hospitals work for our health. These people do a dirty job for far below the top dollar, and often get short shrift from the public, working long hours and having to deal with the most unpleasant side of human existence and suffering, day after day.

So I thank those medical staff and assistants, of whatever grade or qualification, who helped make my wife's brief stay a positive and comfortable one. I wish to single out one particularly wonderful lady - Nurse Hajjijah, the hospital's cancer counselor, who is also a breast cancer survivor and has done so much to help Annie to face her ordeal with courage and positivity. Nurse Hajjijah came to see Annie several times during her stay and hugged her and even phoned her up this morning after Annie had left the hospital.

Hajjijah was there right at the start when Annie was told she had cancer - she shared her experiences and told Annie that she was not suffering alone and that everything will be alright. Thank you and may God's blessings be showered on you forever!

And finally, a message of thanks to the surgeons who operated on Annie - I praise you all from the bottom of my heart for doing such a clean, professional and effective job. I hope and pray now that Annie's recovery will be short, and permanent. A profound and humble Thank You from Prof. Madder.

And now for the rest of our lives......