When I returned from the hospital the day before yesterday, I was a total wreck. My spirit sank so low I couldn't see the sun shining above. All I saw was the wretched self lying on a hospital bed, yellow from all that trouble with the liver and waiting dismally for Death to summon.
I wasn't sure if I should be yellow but I once saw an old lady on a hospital bed. Her face was yellow and she was struggling with some liver trouble too. That was years ago, but I was pretty convinced that the color of death by liver trouble is still yellow. But why am I bitching over the detail anyway?
The needle prick for the blood test went well. It was over in a squeeze of a lime. I've gained some weight and Dr Santhi (the oncologist) told me she'd call me to let me know my blood result. She called me just as I was about to leave the hospital.
"Not good," she said. "Can you come back?"
Both my liver enzyme and total cholesterol had escalated. (I was instructed to stop taking the cholesterol medication since June.) She wrote me a reference letter addressed to the Gastroenterology Clinic.
"I will request for an early appointment," she added as she scribbled those request on the front of the envelope.
At the Gastroenterology Clinic, I was asked to return on the following day so that the attending Professor could determine if my case warrant an early appointment. Otherwise, the standard appointment is three months forward.
My spirit sank as I took refuge in my inner shell. Pity party in session.
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