Spiritual Retreat in the Ward – my stay in hospital (3)

For the Holy Week, I had been assigned a few responsibilities. I was to be the commentator for the Mass of the Last Supper on Holy Thursday. Besides, on Good Friday there was the Way of the Cross on the Gia Hill, for which I was the lector at one of the stations. In addition, there was the commemoration of Jesus’ crucifixion in the afternoon. Most importantly, the Easter Vigil Mass on Saturday was an occasion I had attended annually over the past years. And the Baptismal ceremony would mean much to me this year as I would be the godmother of one of those to be baptized.

Because of my hospitalization, I was deprived of the chance to participate in all these events. However, I decided not to be left out. And out of the mercy of the kind Lord, I did get involved in the Holy Week commemoration amidst the pain and dizziness.

The lingering dizziness meant that I had to keep my eyes closed most of the time though my mind was wide awake. There was no reading or watching TV. The only thing I could do was to listen to songs on the mobile phone. I chose religious songs appropriate for reflections on Jesus’ agony, death and resurrection. There was one named ‘Four days late’ about Jesus raising Lazarus from death four days after the funeral. I kept playing the song again and again and felt elated each time by the singer’s bright and ringing voice singing the line “He’s still on time!” (www.youtube.com/watch?v=se7yAkqu3Ek).

When the dizziness was less disturbing, I browsed the websites with the hope of stumbling upon the live broadcast of a church event. Very fortunately for me, I visited the site of our Cathedral and was able to watch the ceremony of the washing of feet on Maundy Thursday. I felt touched by our Bishop’s humility in kissing the parishioners’ feet.

 (https://www.facebook.com/secathedralmacau/videos/1776393412374711/)

On Good Friday evening I intently searched on YouTube for videos displaying the devout participating in the Way of the Cross. To my delight, I found one with a voice reading the related Bible verses, guiding the viewer to pray and then meditate on Jesus’ agony station by station. I found this very useful in helping me reflect on Jesus’ great love for us. I looked at the scenes of Jesus’ passion, the cruelty of which I had dreaded previously. Thinking of His suffering, I found my own pain negligible.
(https://hk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=yfp-search-sb&p=%E8%8B%A6%E8%B7%AF%E5%8D%81%E5%9B%9B%E7%AB%99+%E9%BB%98%E6%83%B3Youtube#id=6&vid=3431390fb2912055aa0a3a3b89c1a430&action=click)

At other times when there was not a ceremony going on, I watched online sermons of different priests. Actually, I had had the links forwarded to me before but very seldom did I care to watch them as I was preoccupied with either one thing or another. In hospital, however, I managed to pay good attention to the preaching and get really inspired.

Gradually recovering, I was able to do some reading. It was a book assigned by our reading group. Without disturbance from the everyday trifling matters, I enjoyed the reading far more than I usually did. I also got a flood of inspiration ready to share about in my next gathering.

In a way I can see my hospitalization as a spiritual retreat. I did more praying and meditating with an increased awareness of the consolation from God’s presence amidst the pain I went through.

What loving our neighbours means - My stay in hospital (2)

When admitted to the ward well after midnight, I was aware of the presence of a roommate hidden behind a drawn curtain.  

Before daybreak, I heard people talking. It was an old woman’s voice asking to have the diaper changed. So, my roommate was bedridden. I admit, not without a sense of shame now, taking delight in the thought of having the bathroom all for myself, not realizing the high cost entailed. 

With limited mobility, the old lady had a small portable toilet by her bedside, which she would use for defecating. That was the time when I had to wait in the parlour, still attached to an IV tube, until the room was deodorized. It was a long wait despite the availability of a room air- purifier. And this could happen twice a day. I could not help complaining inwardly why she would not use the diaper instead. And, unfortunately, her bowel movements were her most favourite topic, which she would share with everyone of her visitors. Imagine how much this could spoil my appetite if it happened when I was supposed to be enjoying my meal! 

With the pain gradually lessening, however, I found the old lady less troublesome. In fact, she had apologized to me repeatedly for having made the room smelly. She had chosen to use the portable toilet to avoid adding to the trouble of the nurses, who would, otherwise, have to deal with increased messiness of the diaper. And her frequent mentioning of her bowel movements was due to her regret about causing too much trouble to people around her, including me. 

In my Sunday school teaching I have often talked about Jesus’ advice on loving our neighbours as we love ourselves. Who are our neighbours? How should we love our neighbours? I understand that the first step towards loving someone is to put ourselves in his shoes. Without feeling sympathetic about his needs, how can we even talk about loving him? Here is a case to which the truth of the saying can apply so appropriately. The old lady, my roommate, was my neighbour both literally and factually. I became more tolerant of her needs. I could have been a more difficult patient if I had been in her place.

So in the later days, I talked more with her, trying to relieve her of her uneasiness about her bowel problems. And I mentioned her needs in my daily prayer. Her daughter, who came three times a day to bring her meals, asked me to talk to her about Jesus. (She had found me listening to sermons online and decided that I was a Christian.) The old lady, a Buddhist herself, was happy about the idea. She was discharged two days before I was. When I said goodbye to her at the lobby, she promised to pray for me to her Guanyin (觀音). 

Thank you, Lord, for inspiring me with this life experience. With this, I believe I can more easily convince my Sunday school students that loving our neighbours can be a very simple thing we can do in our daily lives.

A blessing in disguise - My stay in hospital (1)

I was admitted to Kiang Wu Hospital with a fever and an acute pain in my right side in the small hours of April 11. And there I stayed for nine days …

On the first few days, in spite of intermittent intravenous medications, there was a lingering fever accompanied by shivering and dizziness. I felt sick to the stomach and the pain kept me awake well into the night. I went to the nurses’ quarters in the middle of the night asking for a pain killer, but was given an ice bag instead. “We understand how much you suffer,” a young nurse, the age of my students, said consolingly, advising me to stay in bed lest I should faint. Medications are not so freely administered, I understand. But when the pain is so unbearable, you just can’t help making unreasonable demands like a child.

When the fever had gone and the pain diminished, I regained my appetite. I ordered meals with much enthusiasm. The nurse who took my temperature showed a more encouraging smile each time. But the one in charge of my blood pressure gave me a less assuring look. The readings were far higher than those I had taken at home. “Did you not sleep well?” Well, that was the problem. For a person with insomnia, a hospital environment could only make the problem worse. So, I’ve got another problem to watch over.

During those days I thought a lot about the human body. It’s strange how much trouble can be caused when a single organ, which used to stay peaceful and unnoticed for years, decides to make itself felt. It causes pain, of which the acuteness and the affected area can increase if unattended to in time. And other organs may join in and the result can be a storm of protest, leaving the victim in great misery. And I finally came to the conclusion that good health matters a lot.

My stay in hospital has been a blessing in disguise. There I underwent a series of medical examinations, which I had disregarded for years. I must admit that ebbing health comes with increased age. I am also aware of the need to cut down on my commitments to ensure a more relaxed lifestyle.