Inside the Sick Bay...

Wondering why suddenly I remembered about the time when I was residing inside the sick bay back at OH...

The first few weeks was......disastrous...perhaps that's the only word I could describe it right now...

It's not because the OH family weren't treating me well...it's more of this internal conflict I had within me...

Seriously, having the doctor telling you that you have SLE without showing signs of sympathy is by far not pleasant news...Well...yeah....I think I did a good job telling my family and friends over here about it...without shedding a tear on my hospital bed...At that time...I couldn't feel anything...just....desensitised I guess?

When I came out from TTSH, I thought that as long as I obey the doctor's prescriptions and take the medications I would walk out strong and healthy....Or so I thought....Not even 5 days and I went back to TTSH...

2nd time being discharged..I was totally lost...I did not know what to do about my life at that point of time....It's like...suddenly a huge book entitled "Guojun, you are not what you used to be right now" had landed square on my face...colliding my cheek muscles as if I got hit by an 18-wheeler...

Sick bay was the first room I entered upon reaching OH from the hospital...By nightfall, I was, admittedly, in tears...because I had SLE....

It was the first time I was in tears because of my sickness...because I had the cloak of the night to cover the tears rolling down my warm cheeks...

It did not stop at just one night...It went on for quite a while I guess...Wondering what am I going to do about the disease...

Well...At least I'm still alive right now....Hmm....such memories I had inside that room..

As night engulfs the sky,

Only a shimmer of light creeps into the dark room,

Within the room, Sitting on the wheelchair,

In tears,

Staring blankly into the dark void,

Perhaps the dark setting is a blessing,

For sun rays would burn and kill,

Perhaps the 4 walls are a gift,

For dust and dirt would rip the soul,

Nighttime ticks away,

And yet a pair of eyes is still open,

Red, swollen,

Knowing very well,

It's impossible to bask upon,

The Light that provides life,

Wondering whether is there such a thing,

Life equated as an hourglass,

Staring at the hourglass,

Awaiting the last grain of sand,

Trickles down through the slim neck,

Burying any remnants of his life...