“Nurse check the patient in bed 1 again will you… how is the parameters?” she gave the student nurse the instruction as she was with the housemen in bed 6 who is trying to extract blood specimen for blood gas.
Staff nurse is at the nurse’s station on the phone trying to trace the blood results for the both patient. The medical officers were in the staff room having their dinner. They have been attending to the emergency cases since 8pm and told the staff that they will be in the staff room to get a quick bite while waiting for the blood result.
Just when she thought she could get a short nap during her break time, the student nurse woke her up “two emergency cases coming up... a road traffic accident and assault case. Both very bad…” she immediately wash her face, took a cup of coffee and rush out. And they have been up on their feet ever since. It’s almost a full house tonight. All the other cases are post operative cases: gastrectomy, cholecystectomy.
One perforated appendix just got back from the operating theatre, had the operation done at 9pm. The staff nurse has been busy since the time she came on duty with an overflow case from the medical unit admitted via the emergency department: a diabetic ketoacidosis which requires her to monitor the patient blood sugar every 15 mins.
There was only three staff on duty at night. One staff nurse, one assistant nurse and a student nurse having to manage 20 patients at the central station. Usually the staff from the other station will come over to help but tonight they too were busy with overflows from the medical unit. She came back to bed 1 to change the I/V drip.
The medical officer has just ordered a new regime and she has already rescheduled the timing. Also she needs to change him into operation gown and to prepare him for the emergency operation. She called him, he is not responding. He was 5 mins ago when she pass by to go to the other patient.
She checks his radial pulse. It’s very feeble. She touch his hand, they are cold. She took the blood pressure set. It’s 80 to unrecordable. She checks again… still the same low, now to 75 and unrecordable.
She saw the blood stains on the bed sheet where he is lying. She turns him on the side: Blood! Now where this blood comes from? Oh! My god patient is bleeding... there’s a puncture site on his back and blood oozing from it: fresh blood.
She immediately called out for the houseman. The medical officer on duty came. She saw the blood too. “Quick! Apply pressure” she instructs. No good blood continues to gush out from the punctured site. “Patient is bleeding, its arterial blood!” she remarked.
“Call the operating theatre. We need to bring this patient in now” shouted the medical officer “cannot wait… Someone hold the lift… no need to transfer on the trolley…. Go down with the bed… Now! Now! Now!”
And the whole team move. She climbed on the bed, patient still on his side, her hand pressing hard on the puncture site with a sterile dressing pad as they push the bed from the ward to the lift and to the operating theatre. ….
she’s back in the ward. “We need to start totalling up our intake and out put chart. Can you please do it, I’m going to check all the I’/V’s. No need to disturb the staff nurse, she is with the diabetic patient. We have to try to manage ourselves. Let’s help her to update the records, she will check and sign it later on” she instructs the second year student nurse further.
This is one lousy night, she lament to herself as she move on in a hurry along the corridor……. Now hang on here…. She suddenly stops. Didn’t I go through this scene before? I thought I’ve hand over the duty to the morning staff and went home... what am I doing here in the ward…
Her feet froze. The corridor. The noise. The alarms. They all… vanished. Silence. Utter silence. And then she opened her eyes. Her legs ached.
She was home. In bed. Her body curled up on its side, her blanket halfway to the floor. The ceiling above her was dim in the fading evening light. She turned her head toward the small alarm clock on her nightstand. 6:00 p.m. Time to get ready. She had to leave by 7:00 pm to make it for the 9:00 p.m. shift.
But she always made sure to be in the ward by 8:30. Just enough time to catch her breath, review the board, and mentally prepare. That had always been her rhythm. Even when the rest of her life felt unstable, the ward kept its beat.
Then she heard voices. Laughter. Light conversation drifting in from the living room. Her parents. Talking to someone. A woman’s voice. A man’s voice. They were speaking Malay but not her mother’s usual tone. It had a distinct lilt. Baba Malay. The Peranakan mix of sing-song rhythm and crisp endings. Then—another voice cut in. Her heart stilled for a moment. That voice.
She knew that voice. It was warmer than she remembered. But it was unmistakably him. The voice she once laughed with. She sat up. Pushed the blanket aside. Moved toward the door, her heartbeat quietly climbing.
She opened it just a crack and peered into the hallway. “There she is! She’s awake!” Her father turned toward her with a smile, his voice bright with pride and affection. His eyes landed on her sleepy face peeking from behind the door.
“On night duty, ya?” asked the Chinese lady, whom she now recognised as Aunty Mary. Nonie nodded and smiled as she stepped into the dining area. There he was—sitting at the table with them. He looked up and smiled. That same quiet smile.
She walked over and took a seat beside Aunty Mary. “Aiya! Lucky they met at the hospital,” Uncle Freddie chuckled, shaking his head. “If not, don’t know when we all would meet again. Ever since we moved out of the kampong, all go different direction. All lost contact…”
“Ya lah,” Aunty Mary agreed. “Now all staying in HDB flats, hard to meet. One at Bedok, another at Changi, some at Tampines…”
“I heard Encik Lim stays in the same block as you now?” Uncle Freddie asked, turning to her father.
“Yah, he’s at the highest floor, the 25th,” her father replied. “Just our two families left from the old kampong days. The rest... we don't know where they are anymore.”
The atmosphere hadn’t changed. Warm. Familiar. Like old photographs come to life. They spoke with ease, voices interweaving as they shared memories of their kampong days of open gates, shared meals, roosters crowing in the morning, and children running barefoot along the dusty paths. Coffee cups clinked gently.
The scent of freshly brewed kopi and homemade Malay kueh lingered in the air. It was different now, of course. Living in the flats wasn’t the same. Public housing had its order, its silence, its locked doors. But for a moment, around that dining table, the kampong had returned.
She was ready by 7 p.m., gathering her things and heading for the main door when he suddenly stood up.
“You’re going too?”
“Something urgent just came up… I have to get back to camp early today,” he said, walking toward the door as well.
“Really?” Aunty Mary raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, go ahead then,” she added with a chuckle.
Nonie smiled and waved. “Bye, Aunty… Bye, Uncle… see you again.”
They waved back. Moments later, the lift doors closed behind them. Just the two of them, standing in opposite corners. A silence settled—familiar, but strange. It had been such a long time. They had promised to stay in touch the day her family moved out of the kampong. They were the first to leave. She returned occasionally for silat classes, and they’d meet. But over time, her visits became less frequent. School, distance, and life pulled them apart.
Then he, too, had moved, following his aunt and uncle to another housing estate. She never knew where. And for a while, it all faded. Until that day in the ward, when he stood infront of his recruits waiting for discharge instructions.
She could feel him looking at her. She dropped her gaze, pretending to focus on his boots. Her heart was racing.
“You never called,” he said softly. “I was waiting.”
She looked up, words caught in her throat. The piece of paper with his phone number was still tucked in her purse. Alongside the photo, him and her, laughing, years ago. She had dialed once, but she hung up before anyone could answer.
Too much time had passed. Too much had changed. Or had it?
“When I told my aunt and uncle I met you at the ward, they were so happy. They insisted I call, but you were never home. So I let them speak to your parents. And... they made the plans to visit. I had to come. I wanted to see you again.”
“Oh.” It was the only word she could manage.
“Are you taking the bus to work?”
“Yes.”
“Can I join you?”
“Same bus goes to your camp?”
“No. But it’s still early. I’ll send you to work… then take another bus to camp.”
“I thought you told your aunty you had something urgent?”
He smiled. She finally looked up really looked up and their eyes met.
Chpt 11 / 36
