The ward was very very very noisy with visitors. I hate weekends.
The Indian man who had been moaning and screaming went into coma in
the afternoon. His big extended family crowded into his room to wake him
up. Nurses rushed in to give him oxygen.
When his mouth frothed, his family screamed at a high pitch as if they just saw
the Devil.
Men talking loudly on the handphones. The whole world seemed to be
collapsing.
Three hours later, he stopped breathing. His wife and daughter shrieked at the top of
their lungs. Then they ran along the corridor, beating their chests, screaming
in Tamil as if devils were every where. They knocked onto walls, kicked the
medical trolleys along the way. At one point, it sounded like someone was
pounding on the wall of my room and digging her nails into the walls. It seemed
like someone else grabbed a sharp object from a medical trolley and started to
poke her arms and legs with it. Nurses restrained her and more commotion was
heard from the family.
  |
| They scenes reminded me of Thaipusam. |
It went on for more than an hour, giving me goose pimples.
I asked one of the friendly nurses about death reactions by the
various races. She said, “When Malay
patients died, the family read the prayers, cry softly and then leave. Same
with the Chinese whether they are Buddish, Taioist or Christians. But the
Indians grieve very loudly and yes, it does feel like you are watching people
in trance in Thaipusam. This is the cultures in Malaysia!”
Strangely, the ward became quiet after they left. Other visitors didn’t make that much noise. Children were not running around like they do on weekends. Finally, these unruly loud visitors are respecting a family’s grief!
By Ching Ching
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