Mozzie fever

Hello, all. It's been a long while since my last post. I've just recovered from a bout of dengue fever.

After the last stage of the flu, I was alright until I coughed up blood and discovered, to my horror, purplish bruises on my back. That's when I dashed to the hospital for check-ups. Upon getting the blood test result, my doctor immediately admitted me to the dreaded hospital ward.

It was my worst nightmare as I absolutely detest hospitals- the antiseptic smell, the low energy from ailing patients, the worried looks from visiting relatives and friends.

I was weak, weepy and moody most of the time. After 3 days of seeing me at my lowest depressed state, Mr. J whisked me out of the ward and wheeled me to the newborn nursery. It was the only thing that kept my sanity. Seeing tiny wrinkly babies cocooned in their blankets upped my mood. And it became my daily highlight during my illness. Every evening, I'd eagerly wait for Mr. J to appear at the ward door to wheel me to the nursery.

I got really depressed until I had a visitor list which was created after my annoyingly supertitious eldest aunt ('tai yee' in Cantonese) asked if I saw any 'hungry ghosts' at night. I could only replied weakly in self-defense, " Yeah, Ah-Tai Yee. Don't you think there're roaming spirits around you, right now with dying people in this hospital. Better not visit me lah. " I had seriously wanted to add, "Oh and by the way, I see one very hungry female spirit hovering by your side."

Boy, was I glad for that off-handed enquiry because, later, my mum couldn't argue with me on my visitor list. Ah, well. The older generation need to be taught a courtesy lesson, sometimes. Just because you're older, that doesn't mean you can say anything you want without any repercussion.

Anyway, I'm glad it's all over - yukky bland hospital food, awkward sleeping position (due to drip needles on both my arms), daily blood tests, countless medicine dosages, freezing air-cond in the ward.

So happy to be back.