Working Out My Karma

A few friends from overseas asked why I had been silent on my blog for some time.  Well, it's because I've been busy getting sick.

Having been struck down by a condition which I find it difficult to spell, I was admitted to a hospital for treatment.  One thing led to another and before I knew it, two weeks had passed.  Relatives and friends kept asking me "When will you be discharged?", "What's taking them so long to cure you?" etc., etc. Their concern made me even more exasperated.  Of course I wanted to get out of that miserable home for the sick but I had no choice until the doc said "OK".

I tried to look on the positive side - after all, this was like a hotel  - my breakfast came on time every morning, so did my other meals and I had the freedom to choose what I wanted to eat.  Unfortunately, as most patients would complain, hospital food is very, very bland - I suppose they cannot overload patients with too much salt or sugar!  After the first week, I was quite tired of the food and I conspired with a friend to bring in some food from outside ...!  My maid, who was staying with me, was actually having the time of her life; she ate from the canteen downstairs, sometimes went further to buy whatever fancied her.  She also met up with some people from Indonesia and while I was sleeping, spent time chatting to them.  Sometimes I wish the situation were reversed ...

It was a torture every night. I had a little needle stuck into my vein on my right hand (sometimes they changed it to the left) so that antibiotics could be served i.v.  It was horrible - every time I would look at the bag containing that ghastly liquid and wished it would finish quickly so that I could move my hand.  Then again, I tried to be positive - without this being done, it would take a longer time for me to recover.  Most of the time I fell into a disturbed sleep, with interruptions from the nurses every few hours to check my b.p. and temperature.  Now I knew how much Mum had suffered when she was in hospital and this certainly made me feel more depressed.  In addition, I had to undergo a couple of procedures, the gruesome details of which I shall spare you; so how can I remain positive?  I read somewhere that if one makes daily affirmations like "Everyday I'm getting better and better", one WILL get better and better.  I tried that also but it didn't work.

I was finally discharged the day before yesterday.  This has been really a bad patch for me, especially so soon after Mum's passing away.  Perhaps I have exhausted all my good karma and am now paying back for my dirty crimes!