The lift door opened. “Turn left, turn left”, I thought to myself as I glanced up at the directory above head. My eyes were twitching; my mind was in a whirl. Damn, I could not remember where it was. Block four? Or was it eight? Is it level six? Which ward was it? I was flustered under a thick, green fleece hoodie, in a non air-conditioned pathway, desperate and confused. Beds, wards, patients and nurses were everywhere. And they all had one thing similar – unfamiliarity. “Ward 22 seems there”, as I read off another directory. I flipped left and right, in and around the ward. No, that’s the toilet next to it alright. And the ward was completely filled with strangers. I gave up, and headed back towards the exit. “Can’t believe I got it wrong.” Boy, did I say that a second too fast. The corridor to my left was ward twenty-six, and there stood familiar faces. Only that I’ve never seen them buried and drowned in tissue papers and a flush of tears.

I prodded in the direction, and the greeting made of echoes of whims and whispers grew real. I took a step in, and saw 5 beds. All aged, bald, pale and everything you would expect. But hey, no. He is like that. It was what, less than two months of any first definitive symptom. The sixth bed had curtains drawn. I pulled open. There lay, with a oxygen bag attached, and needles strewn in and out like his blood vessels were more external than under the skin. Eye close, mouth agape. I was frowning so hard, controlling every muscle on my face. I was not intending to lose to this. I looked at him, stared straight in the eye. Respond, you idiot. Stare back, and shout, as if I was demeaning you. “Big brother, he’s come to see you. See, everyone’s here already. You don’t need to be scared, don’t need to worry. Everyone’s here for you, with you.” My aunt assured him. I lost it.

I cringed and did not know how to respond to someone who was not responding. I grabbed his arm, and squeezed a bit. I stuttered, and just kept making squeezes, as if trying to wake him up from his sleep. “Move. Wiggle. Cough. Whatever. Just do something.” persisted inside me. But no matter what I do, or what I say, he gave only that calmed expression with not a single movement. ”What the hell are you doing up there. Would you like to do your stuff now and help in this very situation? Did you not say miracles do happen?” I was like a single fish, out in the open sea, lost from the school. When everything around you only builds up your fear and hopelessness, you would not even know if you should react, much less how. I was motioned to leave. I drew the curtain, and walked out.

I stood by the door. Television dramas? I’ve completed almost a dozen series. Tearful ones? I’ve got a handful to recommend. But this was not any drama. It was there, in front me of. It was it. My cousin offered a tissue. There was no talking; only gasps of air in between each wipe and burst. I stood there for an hour or so, but it felt as if night should have fallen. Time ticked slowly. I then headed to the toilet. Locking up the cubicle, alone from the rest of the world, I whimpered out loud. I leaned into a corner and just wept senselessly. The tissue was soon no different as if it was dipped in a bucket of water. How do I put this. Yes, he was not my closest relative, but it was pain. Apparently, that situation is always sad. No matter what.

I winded down. I believed, “Mr. planner, I thank you for all the memories I have had. Even though it was few and far between, what can I ask for, since you’ve already given me the best you can give. All I hope is that thing will go well, and dear god, according to your plan.”

I signed out.

in memory of my uncle. xie xie ni. 020708.