2001-12-09 - 5:14 p.m.

I sleep therefore I eat; and so I sleep and continue to eat and start to sleep...

Hours were spent with eyeballs fixed on the perpetual motion of the ceiling fan, or if by a lapse in concentration, the gaze will divert to the continual drip from the IV tubes that feed supposed benign liquids into my veins.

The stillness in the hospital room permeated sad feelings that envelops the whole C class ward I am in.

'Your foot isn't healing, I'm afraid that we're not ruling out amputation...' --Doctor to Indian man on bed opposite mine.

'Why are u so stupid to choose C ward?My medisave scheme and insurance entitles u to a B1 ward...' --My father showing his concern in a rather mercernary manner

'Okies Mr Tee, sign here, we will be removing all yer toenails and infected skin tonight, please abstain from any food and drinks for the whole day.'

'Breath this in, we will be giving u some oxygen...' --The surgeons

11th of December 2001

Discharged from SGH.

Four fucking days in hospital and over a thousand dollars wasted, with nothing to show except for needle marks littered all over my arms and hands.Yah I should be glad that my foot didnt get any worse, but should I not be SAD that life for me could and should have been much less unfortunate?

I'm too prophetic, or is my life so predictably filled with misfortune that it gets banal?When life is starting to get better, it only means that it can start to get worse... it's true and I've proven myself right.

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