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Average Joe will walk in to hospital. Just like you and I, as we would. Average Joe will wait patiently to see a doctor, after all he does have something on his mind. He had headaches.
Average Joe will then have his consultation. All jokes. As after all, he’s got something a little more serious to talk about. How else to camouflage nervousness with some inappropriate giggly banter.
There are two ways you can describe A&E shiftwork.
One. Amazing.
You finish on time, mostly. You know exactly what you are doing, when you are doing it. You can plan for holidays because you’ve got all your fixed annual leave for the next six months.
You have random weekdays off. Excellent for catching up on paperwork.
You have your adrenaline pumping - well this happens anyway because you’re meant to make decisions for the first time in your life.
Fat sweaty lady with positive family history, diabetes and blood pressure through the roof comes in with central tightness on coming at rest sometimes radiating up the neck to jaw, tonight the tightness is not going away. Go home, it’s only some reflux lose some weight.
Maybe not.
Two. Isolating.
Dinner and movie for one please, for the next six months. At present, I’m in the cinema. It’s Thursday night, 12am. My friends are sleeping. They need to be up tomorrow. Working like a normal person. I start at 5pm. Finish at 2am tomorrow. No transport provided for us after work. Let’s go hang out? Answer: sorry knackered from work, they’re already sleeping.
Crap movie is starting. They got it wrong. It’s not drive. It’s something to do with being afraid of the dark.
I-so-LA-tion. Is not good for me.
I-so-LA-tion. I don’t want to sit on the lemon tree.
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.- WM HENRY DAVIES
After work today, at six, I rush for an early dinner, gorge myself with some familiar Malaysian food at Malaysia Hall. I leave in an uncomfortable state - unable to find a comfortable position with the amount of food I have consumed. I had the usual nasi campur with some rendang, but in addition to that, we had laksa, tom yum soup, rojak and a side portion of ikan bilis. Just like home. Except.. in the past few months, nay, this past year, the size of my stomach has significantly reduced in size now only managing small portions of rice, being full on a large McDonald’s meal (now now you, don’t be dissing my McD’s), sometimes even missing a meal (okay that’s because of work).
Completely devoid of social graces, I announce that dinner was over. I waddle to the car feeling like a ripely pregnant penguin, unable to breath for the splinting of my diaphragm. I groggily stumble back into the house, experience the usual gastro-colic reflex and then crawl into bed in a post-prandial comatose state. This at 9pm.
I wake up two hours later, and there is a hole in my stomach, I can eat a cow I’m so hungry. I rummage around the kitchen for something to fill me up. Nothing seems appealing and I walk away feeling a strange sense of loss.
I try to fill my time with things to do while trying to stay awake. I start on nights tomorrow, I need to be up tonight and sleep all day tomorrow. Unlikely as the cleaner will probably start her vacuuming at 9am.
From the corner of my eye, I see a familiar grass-green-coloured book - My Island in the Sun, written by my grandfather. I read a few chapters and am transported back to his Penang, where children were running free with the chickens in the neighbour’s garden, or when the beaches were still untouched, or when Penang Hill was the place to go (actually recently this has come true again). I’m hit by a strong wave of nostalgia. And we all know what Suan does when she’s feeling nostalgic.. She reads emails, recent and archived, happy and sad. She thinks of old friends and new ones, of old infatuations and ongoing ones. She thinks of those she loves far away, and those she loves further away. She thinks of what could’ve been, what should’ve been and what is. And she talks about herself in the third person.
So my point is, now.. now that I have so much time to stand and stare, how do you think fares my mental state.
I am surrounded by sounds and smells foreign to me as I sit here with the breeze, ever so slightly caressing. Mothers and their babies. Couples walking hand-in-hand, enjoying the sun. Good friends sitting together, sipping at wine. I stare at the condensation forming on the surface of the glass. All reminding me of the promise of tomorrow.
I shut my eyes. I am brought back a year. The sounds and smells around me musky and I hear papers rustling. I frown in annoyance, if they can’t sit in silence, they should leave. At the gallery in Mary’s. The sound of water lapping at my feet. I look down and I can’t see the bottom. Paddington Basin. All reminding me of the unfulfilled dream you had.
I take a deep breath. I am brought back two years. I am driving, a mixture of feelings distract me from the car emerging from the road ahead. I startle as the loud horn goes. Smiling apologetically, I find a space to park and I attend mass. We sat by the river, shandy for me and Guinness for you. All reminding me of what you taught me NEVER to do.
I sigh. I am brought back three years. If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you follow? Yes I would. Clear skies, blue seas, good times. All reminding me of that you would never anything again.
Enough now. Back to the present day. And fruit ninja.
The rhythmic buzzing sound in the distance persists. I frown as I stir from yet another dream. My phone is vibrating somewhere. They must be calling to say hi again. I miss them too but the phone is not within reach..
***
Again, the same buzzing. I wonder what they want.
Yes? <pause> Okay - I’ll brush my teeth.
As I drift off again, I’m struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia and a sense of loss. Again I frown. THEY?
I wake up disorientated.
Did my phone actually ring?
