I did not inform anyone regarding the details of my hospitalisation, or the nature of my sickness, so to anyone reading this, please do not feel disappointed that I did not confide in you. I didn't mean it that way. I really just did not want anyone to worry about me.
Last Friday, I woke up in the late afternoon, breathless. My pulsating chest and rapid heart rate were the initial warning signs. Ignoring these signals, I thought and silently prayed that it would vanish with time. How wrong could I be. These symptoms carried on throughout the weekend and hit me hardest on Sunday. While having a late breakfast, I felt myself gradually gasping for air and my heart was pumping so violently and intermittently that I thought I could black out. Fearing the worst, I typed out my intention to visit the doctor immediately on Sab's phone. She wolfed down her food and immediately changed and we headed down to the clinic. Fortunately, the clinic was relatively empty and I was able to see the physician within minutes. After stating my symptoms, the doctor proceeded to perform an Electrocardiogram (ECG) and duly referred me to the Accident & Emergency Department (A&E) at CGH.
Upon reaching the waiting area at CGH, I was given a fast-track for another ECG to be performed and within minutes, I was wheeled into the bustling emergency medical area. After an ultrasound and a chest x-ray, I was pierced with a needle for an IV drip and from that moment onwards, I knew that I will need to be warded at the hospital. Swallowing approximately ten pills of various colours, I feared for the worst. The next few hours were a blur, as I was pushed into the Intensive Care Area and back out, before I was finally warded at the Cardiology Ward. It was confirmed - I was diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism. The thyroid gland that controls metabolism levels, heart rate, perspiration, and a whole barrage of other functions, was working overtime and producing excess levels of hormones.
I had to be attached to a telemetry device where my heart rate was electronically wired to the nurses' laptop. There was one time just two days ago that I emerged from the bed when the nurses wanted to change my bedsheet. Reprising my role as the kanchiong spider that I normally am, I totally forgot about my current condition and got up immediately. Beads of perspiration started forming on my temples and almost simultaneously, my heart rate shot up to 200 beats per minute. My vision almost blacked out completely and I had to grasp on to the bedside drawer for support. The worst case scenarios I had previously entertained in my mind prior to this flashed by me in an instant. I cannot remember the last time I felt so despondent at the weakness of my own body. At that moment, nurses started to rush in, pegging me to the ECG machine and tying to calm me down. The thing is, I wasn't even agitated or worked up. I felt normal.
I am on three different types of medication. One is to control the hyperactive production of the thyroid hormone, one is to control the heart rate, and the last one has a blood thinning effect to prevent blood clots, due to the irregularity and palpitations of my heart beats. In the short-term, I am probably on medication until my condition gets better. After a few months of monitoring, I may be advised to undergo radioactive iodine therapy, which will effectively halt the hormone-producing ability of the thyroid. Which also means I will be on counter-reacting medication to replace the hormones in my body for the rest of my life. But I am not thinking so much for now. I just need to get better.
Due to the excruciating blood thinning injections I received on my stomach once in the morning and once at night, my skin has become so thin that simple scratches like these leave scars and I really do not know when these will heal.
The first time I cried was at the clinic. Leaving the doctor's office, tears were already rolling down Sab's face. She looked so worried and probably taken aback at the gravity of the situation, the fact that I had to be referred to the A&E department.
The second time we both cried was at the A&E department at CGH. I had been hoisted on the bed and doctors were fussing all over me. When She was finally able to enter to visit, she looked terribly worried and scared as I held her gentle hands. Both of us did not know what to think, or what to do. I really cannot bear to see her cry.
The third time I cried was in the ward. The specialist doctor was explaining the treatment methods and the nature of the sickness. I cried because I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had trained hard enough so as not to be inflicted with sicknesses easily. I cried because now, I am unable to fulfill my initial promise to protect Sab, and make sure she is well taken care of. Ironically, it is her that has to take care of me now. I cried because I did not want my family to bear the burden of my medical bills. I cried because I did not want to depend on medication for the rest of my life. I cried because I felt sorry towards everyone who cared for me, that they would have to expend the extra effort to look out for me from now on. This was one of the few times I genuinely felt pure sadness. The tears never stopped falling.
The fourth time I cried was when I was in bed, all alone in the middle of the night. Mum had bought me an amulet to bless me, as those born in the year of the Monkey would offend some deities this year. However, being the extremely muddle-headed person that I am, I left it in the previous hospital gown that I discarded after I showered. At 12 midnight, I jolted awake when I suddenly remembered about the amulet. Ignoring my gradually increasing heart rate, I looked absolutely everywhere. The clothing bin, the shower room, the bathroom, under my pillow, everywhere. And as it slowly dawned to me that I am never finding it again, my eyes turned watery again. It was a familiar sight, me looking for something that I am never getting back ever again. Lamenting the loss of a precious item because I stupidly neglected its existence. And as I slowly trudged to the nurses' station for the first time, I was still composed. By the second time I went over to the nurses' station to plead with them to assist me to find my lost item, all I felt was desperation. I didn't care that the nurses saw me in this sorry state, a grown teenage male crying in front of similar-aged girls. They called Housekeeping, and then Linen, but as the seconds crawled on, I knew I am never seeing the amulet again. Heading back to bed feeling so damn lousy, I ran through a long list of reasons in my head of how I was going to explain this loss to Mum. I recalled how worried Mum looked at the A&E. And how being the true believer of all things good, bought me the amulet with her own hard-earned money, just so that I would be safe, and so that no more harm would come to me. I made a silent promise to myself, to treat Mum better, and never to make her upset ever ever again. This time, I remember crying myself to sleep.
This episode reminded me of how much the people I hold dear to my heart love me back, if not more. Initially, I did not want anyone to visit because I felt at my lowest state and I did not want anyone to see me like this. But as the days went on, I realised that my mood really improved when I got visitors. How I wished I had informed the secondary school and poly cliques, but I don't want more people to worry about me.
To Sab:
Thank you for being the ever-supportive girlfriend that you are, visiting me everyday without fail. I never thought I could love you more than I already did, but you prove me wrong time and again. I am sorry for making you cry. I know that you're being strict but it is all for my own good. I promise to eat healthier and I will definitely stay strong so that I can take care of you again when I recover. It is impossible to list everything that you've done for me because there is really too many. Thank you for everything, my dearest baobao. Love you. ♥
To Wes:
Thank you for visiting me twice at the hospital and buying me fruits. I will always remember the words you texted me: "Don't worry too much about the future because I'm sure it looks good for you and my sis." That's all the assurance I need. In the meantime, please do me a favour and take care of your sister when she is at home, and let me know if she ever ever feels the tiniest bit of upset. Thanks Wes, you'll always be among my best bros.
To Auntie and Uncle:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and showing so much care and concern for my condition. I'll definitely take things slower like you mentioned and focus more on my health.
To Hyung,
Thank you so much for taking the trouble to cook porridge for me, knowing that I was hospitalised. That was really unexpected, as your presence is more than enough. Thank you for caring enough to force Sab to divulge the information to you. Although I did not want too many people to know about this, you went ahead to visit me instead of simply texting GWS.
To Ense:
Thank you for bringing the iPad and putting shows in because you were afraid I would be bored and restless at the hospital. Thank you for making the effort of coming to visit me too.
To Koukou:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital everyday without fail and being so worried about my health. I'll stay strong for you. Thank you for buying me fruits for vitamins too.
To Ryan:
Thank you for visiting me at the hospital and explaining to me terms that I did not comprehend. Thank you for searching for an ideal heart rate monitor that I could use, and bringing Sheryl to visit me too. Although you're my only brother, you're the best brother I can ever have.
To my beloved Mum:
Ma, there are too many things I need to thank you for, and although you're probably not going to read this, thank you for pampering me with food and making sure I was comfortable and well during my stay at the hospital. And for buying me all the food that I wanted to eat. For asking me not to worry about the costs and focus on recuperating. And for getting me the amulet which I lost on the same day. Sorry for losing it. And for offering to buy me a heart rate monitoring device. I love you, Mum.
To my awesome Dad:
Pa, although you couldn't visit me some days due to work, I know your thoughts are with me. Even though you don't say much, I know that you have my interests at heart and only want the best for me. And you keep asking me not to care about the costs and simply concentrate on getting well. And for excusing yourself to go downstairs so that my friends could visit. I love you too, Dad.
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