Chapter 19. I heard voices in the IMW

Although I also treated in the Intermediate room, the Intermediate room where I was treated before and after the surgery, and the gastric bleeding treatment were looked like in different rooms, with the different patient-roommates too…

If to order the best, it seemed that the Intermediate room before my first surgery was the best. Although the cleanliness of the rooms were the same, but the arrangement of each room seemed different. The IMW bathroom was located quite far from the door, while the IWS bathroom was located near the door. The good part of my first Intermediate room was because my roommates were mostly the patients who would undergo a heart stent or ballonisation surgery, and the patients whose heart had been completely set the stent and the patients who had been being observed before being allowed to go home, so what happened everyday was more about laughing while sitting…

While the Intermediate room where I stayed after the surgery was the most creepy, of all the patients, they were just discharged from operation, released so much blood and it was channeled into a type of blood purification device that looked like a car accumulator but it was flat-shaped. In addition, almost all patients were given bandages on their scars. The patients’ moaning-groaning were the groaning in pain, although apparently some patients were moaning as spoiled to “get the attention” by their visitors…

My Intermediate IMW room position where I was treated for the gastric bleeding was in the middle of it. The situation was not so creepy, I occupied a bed near a window called the bed number 6, it’s pleasant since I could see the trees with the green leaves waving outside. Most of the patients were the elders, which was a positive thing because I felt “young” … hahaha

But there was a saying that “the condition of each patient in the hospital, although in the same room, must be different”. This term if to be tested in the reality was true, because there were the young or elderly patients, male or female patients, there were the patients having high blood pressure and not, there were the patients having diabetes and not, and so on which of course the parameter was longer and longer…

Once I noticed, though none of the patients in this Intermediate IMW room just underwent a cardiac surgery except me, almost all the patients were in bad conditions because averagely, the patient’s ages were old. There was a granny next to my bed who kept coughing and remained being silent, whom said one of her visitors, she had already had 30 grandchildren. There was a granny away from my bed that her age had been more than 90 years who her daughters and sons were doctors, but lived in various countries in the world, and the granny was only treated by a “nanny” (the opposite of the “baby sitter”). Similarly, there were also many old men with their each background story.

The condition and the behavior of the average patients in this IMW room were calm, but there was a patient whose condition was serious and this person was the only one who couldn’t be invited to communicate, except perhaps … by his son who waited faithfully every the visiting hour. In the morning, noon, afternoon and evening this patient always spoke by himself, somewhat louder, and as if he was learning to speak… but actually there was a circumstance subconscious or his experience that was brought up though words…

One day, I heard:

“At the Chief of Police’s house…”

“At the Chief of Police’s house…”

After repeated for 15 minutes, his voice changed:

“The water is rising….”
“The water is rising….”
“The water is rising….”

Similarly, it was repeated for 15 minutes, and a surprising conclusions was heard:

“At the Chief of Police’s house, the water shouldn’t be higher than the house” ….

And apparently the patient was a former coach in the National Police, I heard:

“Come on… one by one …”

“Come on… one by one …”

“Come on… one by one …”

At the other time there was more:

“Go get his wound bandaged quickly….”

“Go get his wound bandaged quickly….”

“Go get his wound bandaged quickly….”

After hearing this patient’s voices, I then felt complicated: happy because I was younger, happy that my condition was better, comforted by hearing the story, although the experience was delivered in the subconscious and sad because during this patient being treated, I didn’t see his wife or children visiting even for once.

I then remembered,  in the IWS room after my heart surgery, there was an elderly patient who also had just underwent a heart surgery, but the patient’s condition was not improved. Of dialogue that I heard from a distance, this patient who looked just fine apparently his Hb was remained 7.5 and couldn’t rise up anymore. The patient repeatedly pleaded the doctor to let him go home, but chief doctor of the room replied quite firmly, “You may go home if your Hb has risen up to 12 or more …” In my heart, I measured how hard could it be achieved…

One night, I heard this dialogue:

“I’m going home …” said the patient…

“Why you want to go home, Sir?” asked the nurse.

“I want to see my wife …” said the patient again.

“Why do you want to see your wife?” asked the nurse again.

“I want to take my medicine …” replied the patient surely.

“Sir… it’s late already, it’s 12 a.m., you cannot go home, and you wife doesn’t bring your medicine too because all the medicines are in my hands, Sir,” explained the nurse…

Hearing that dialogue in that midnight, my heart sank because it was such a great love of the man to his wife that until late night he was still looking for his wife…

Whereas, in fact his wife was very despairing and tired of caring for the man because his condition didn’t improved, and because the family lived out of town, they maybe also had financial difficulty since they had to live in an expensive city like Jakarta, which its live cost was very high….

I then said thanks to God for my condition much better than the condition of that elderly patient… but nevertheless … my tear’s falling…. (To be continued)

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