A Stitch Not in Time

This is the twelfth visit to the Tita clinic, a much dreaded experience.

I am now waiting in the parlour with a few other patients. I added my name to the patient waiting list upon my arrival. There were eight others before mine, which meant that I would have to wait for another hour or more. The wait is no less agonizing than that in a dental clinic. You naturally crane your neck from time to time expecting your name to be announced. But when you do hear your name called, you wish it were someone else’s. The treatment is disturbing, if not agonizing. In my case, the discomfort starts with the removal of all the warm clothes, leaving the thin short-sleeved blouse on so as to expose the injured left arm. The treatment involves strenuous rubbing of the injured muscles to activate blood flow. The pain thus caused is actually tolerable. But Mr. Wong, the Tita therapist, always ends the treatment by lifting the arm over my shoulder and then pressing it hard against my back and I have to bite my lips to hold back my tears. Then herbal bandages are applied, which are to be removed after dinner.

What has made this my daily routine for the past two weeks?

On the first day of the Chinese New Year, out of carelessness, I slipped, stumbled and fell. Before I realized what had happened, I found myself sitting on the floor with the whole of my heavy weight resting on the left arm pressed against a cupboard. I struggled to lift myself up and walked back to the bedroom upstairs, not unaware of a few pains here and there, especially in the upper left arm. I could not lift it without feeling an acute pain. As there was no sign of a fracture, I decided that I would not need to see a doctor. Besides, even if treatment was needed, I would have to wait until the end of the New Year holiday.

Thinking that the injury would heal if left undisturbed, I avoided using the left hand. I even boasted of how well I could manage with only one hand. When at last I realized that I needed treatment after all, it was already more than a fortnight since the accident. After examining the injured arm, Mr. Wong frowned and said. ‘If you had come earlier, you could have recovered by now.’

And here I am, spending the main part of the morning waiting for treatment. If there is anything delightful about the visit, it is the walk to and back from it. Before my retirement, I could hardly spare time for long walks,and visits to the Central were few and far between. Now I can enjoy the fun of window shopping in that area closed to traffic. I also meet interesting people at the clinic who give me useful advice on how to nurse the injury by exercising. Above all, I have been engaged in frequent stretching exercises for therapeutic purposes, thus losing some weight, much to my delight.

Of course, the lengthy treatment is too high a cost to pay for such fun. I could have managed with one stitch instead of nine or even more by seeking timely medical treatment.