"Where am I?"
The very first question I had when I opened my eyes. It was a really terrifying feeling. I have only lost track of the continuity of reality twice in my life - once in the night club Rancho in Royan where I got stupidly drunk; while the other time was this time. The question was quickly answered though, judging by the tubes plugged into my arms, the breathing mask on my face, the setting, the nurses, and the surrounding patients.
"I am in a hospital." But then the second question came in my mind, a question even more terrifying than the first one,
"How long have I been unconscious?"
I hastily called the nearest nurse, begging for an answer. "4 to 5 hours," she answered. Probably she saw my puzzled expression, she further explained my situation with her average level of English. Apparently I was admitted to hospital in the afternoon, I was suffering from severe altitude sickness. The last thing that I remembered was at Tengboche waiting for helicopter. But I don't remember anything of the journey to hospital at all. The next thing I knew was I was lying on this ICU bed. The nurse added on, telling me to put back on the breathing mask and rest more. Even though I felt OK and wanted to leave the hospital immediately, it would be wiser to comply.
I was still in disbelief after getting her answer. I was supposed to be on the way to Everest Base Camp (EBC) with a group of hikers. But there I was, lying on the ICU bed, alone in a hospital somewhere in Kathmandu, away from my hiking group, unsure of my health and my situation. After days in the high mountains, I was also unsure of the date too. "How long before I can be discharged?" "When I can see the members of my hiking group again?" "What if I get discharged after my flight back to Malaysia?" "When can I get back my belongings especially my phone?" A millions questions and worries popped up in my head. My future was clouded with unknown. Anxious.
The next day, I asked doctor if I could be moved to a normal ward, but the request failed, claiming that my lungs were still not in good shape. So I was stuck in the 12-bed ICU room. From time to time, a nurse would bring me medication to ingest, as well as some sort of medication to breath in through the breathing mask. Due to their limited English, I didn't bother to ask what those medications were for. I was entirely putting my faith on their hand. Although I no longer needed the breathing mask, my arms were still needed to be attached to some tubes at all time. So to take a leak or a dump, the nurse would just bring me a container or a stool, curtain closed, and I would need to settle the business beside my bed.
Since it was the ICU, the light was never off. The tricky thing was, there was no direct sunlight into the room. Apart from a slender window at the top of a wall, the giant clock on the wall was the only thing providing the time. My circadian rhythm was totally messed up. I slept and woke up and fell back asleep, again and again. To be honest I still can't tell for 100% sure that how many days I had spent there.
Except resting and sleeping, there just wasn't much to do. The only thing left to do was to observe the other patients and the nurses doing their job like a well-orchestrated dance crew. They were carrying out 8-hour work shift. So by judging which batch of nurses, I could roughly guess which part of the day it was, morning or evening or night time. The ICU beds were at most half occupied throughout the time I was there, mostly old folks, 2 or 3 foreigners including me. There was one patient whom I clearly remember. He was carried in very late at night. He was unconscious and looked seriously ill, judging by the multitude of life-supporting equipment surrounding him and the amount of attention needed from several nurses just to take care of him alone. That night I couldn't sleep properly due to the constant "beep beep boop boop" sound from the equipment. But when I woke up the next morning, he was gone. Not sure what happened to him.
Not sure on which day, finally I had some familiar faces visiting me. They were 2 of my hiking members - Miss Ong and Ah Kong. So glad to see some familiar faces. So they helped me fill in my memory blank. Due to Miss Ong feeling uncomfortable to continue on the hike to Everest Base Camp, both of them decided to accompany me on the helicopter to go back down to Kathmandu. Apparently, we changed helicopter twice - once from Tengboche to Lukla; and the second one from Lukla directly to Kathmandu airport. Along the way, they were so scared about my situation, kept patting me to keep me awake, afraid that going to sleep might not be a wise option. They added on that although the flight from the Tengboche to Kathamandu airport was very prompt and swift, the same could not be said to the ambulance from the hospital. We'd waited quite a while in the airport before the ambulance arrived. The trip on the ambulance was very amateur too. I was on a stretcher without strapping or anything. So I was swayed all around at the back while the ambulance bustled through the horrible Kathmandu traffic. Luckily they helped to secure me more or less in place at the back of the ambulance.
They were also relieved after seeing me in good health. According to them, my mom continued on the hiking journey, because it didn't make sense to come down with me. Nothing much she could do to improve my situation. The good thing was they kept in frequent contact with my mom and the others in the group to update them about me. Their visit was short but definitely necessary and comforting for me.
Around 3 days later (I think) I was then moved into a normal room with my own privacy (and my own TV!). Overall, I stayed in hospital for 7 days. On the 6th day, the doctor CT-scanned me and finally I could be discharged. The experience was all new to me, first time admitted to hospital and all, but certainly not pleasant one. It was terrifying due to the circumstances: unsure of my own health; trapped in a hospital in a foreign country; in the ICU room with filled with patients, some seriously ill; with memory loss and no sense of time; lost in translation half of the times. Although I had insurance covered every expenses and the helicopter evacuation sounds cool, I wish for no more.
The very first question I had when I opened my eyes. It was a really terrifying feeling. I have only lost track of the continuity of reality twice in my life - once in the night club Rancho in Royan where I got stupidly drunk; while the other time was this time. The question was quickly answered though, judging by the tubes plugged into my arms, the breathing mask on my face, the setting, the nurses, and the surrounding patients.
"I am in a hospital." But then the second question came in my mind, a question even more terrifying than the first one,
"How long have I been unconscious?"
I hastily called the nearest nurse, begging for an answer. "4 to 5 hours," she answered. Probably she saw my puzzled expression, she further explained my situation with her average level of English. Apparently I was admitted to hospital in the afternoon, I was suffering from severe altitude sickness. The last thing that I remembered was at Tengboche waiting for helicopter. But I don't remember anything of the journey to hospital at all. The next thing I knew was I was lying on this ICU bed. The nurse added on, telling me to put back on the breathing mask and rest more. Even though I felt OK and wanted to leave the hospital immediately, it would be wiser to comply.
I was still in disbelief after getting her answer. I was supposed to be on the way to Everest Base Camp (EBC) with a group of hikers. But there I was, lying on the ICU bed, alone in a hospital somewhere in Kathmandu, away from my hiking group, unsure of my health and my situation. After days in the high mountains, I was also unsure of the date too. "How long before I can be discharged?" "When I can see the members of my hiking group again?" "What if I get discharged after my flight back to Malaysia?" "When can I get back my belongings especially my phone?" A millions questions and worries popped up in my head. My future was clouded with unknown. Anxious.
The next day, I asked doctor if I could be moved to a normal ward, but the request failed, claiming that my lungs were still not in good shape. So I was stuck in the 12-bed ICU room. From time to time, a nurse would bring me medication to ingest, as well as some sort of medication to breath in through the breathing mask. Due to their limited English, I didn't bother to ask what those medications were for. I was entirely putting my faith on their hand. Although I no longer needed the breathing mask, my arms were still needed to be attached to some tubes at all time. So to take a leak or a dump, the nurse would just bring me a container or a stool, curtain closed, and I would need to settle the business beside my bed.
Since it was the ICU, the light was never off. The tricky thing was, there was no direct sunlight into the room. Apart from a slender window at the top of a wall, the giant clock on the wall was the only thing providing the time. My circadian rhythm was totally messed up. I slept and woke up and fell back asleep, again and again. To be honest I still can't tell for 100% sure that how many days I had spent there.
Except resting and sleeping, there just wasn't much to do. The only thing left to do was to observe the other patients and the nurses doing their job like a well-orchestrated dance crew. They were carrying out 8-hour work shift. So by judging which batch of nurses, I could roughly guess which part of the day it was, morning or evening or night time. The ICU beds were at most half occupied throughout the time I was there, mostly old folks, 2 or 3 foreigners including me. There was one patient whom I clearly remember. He was carried in very late at night. He was unconscious and looked seriously ill, judging by the multitude of life-supporting equipment surrounding him and the amount of attention needed from several nurses just to take care of him alone. That night I couldn't sleep properly due to the constant "beep beep boop boop" sound from the equipment. But when I woke up the next morning, he was gone. Not sure what happened to him.
Not sure on which day, finally I had some familiar faces visiting me. They were 2 of my hiking members - Miss Ong and Ah Kong. So glad to see some familiar faces. So they helped me fill in my memory blank. Due to Miss Ong feeling uncomfortable to continue on the hike to Everest Base Camp, both of them decided to accompany me on the helicopter to go back down to Kathmandu. Apparently, we changed helicopter twice - once from Tengboche to Lukla; and the second one from Lukla directly to Kathmandu airport. Along the way, they were so scared about my situation, kept patting me to keep me awake, afraid that going to sleep might not be a wise option. They added on that although the flight from the Tengboche to Kathamandu airport was very prompt and swift, the same could not be said to the ambulance from the hospital. We'd waited quite a while in the airport before the ambulance arrived. The trip on the ambulance was very amateur too. I was on a stretcher without strapping or anything. So I was swayed all around at the back while the ambulance bustled through the horrible Kathmandu traffic. Luckily they helped to secure me more or less in place at the back of the ambulance.
They were also relieved after seeing me in good health. According to them, my mom continued on the hiking journey, because it didn't make sense to come down with me. Nothing much she could do to improve my situation. The good thing was they kept in frequent contact with my mom and the others in the group to update them about me. Their visit was short but definitely necessary and comforting for me.
Around 3 days later (I think) I was then moved into a normal room with my own privacy (and my own TV!). Overall, I stayed in hospital for 7 days. On the 6th day, the doctor CT-scanned me and finally I could be discharged. The experience was all new to me, first time admitted to hospital and all, but certainly not pleasant one. It was terrifying due to the circumstances: unsure of my own health; trapped in a hospital in a foreign country; in the ICU room with filled with patients, some seriously ill; with memory loss and no sense of time; lost in translation half of the times. Although I had insurance covered every expenses and the helicopter evacuation sounds cool, I wish for no more.
Furthermore, it also makes me realize how this all is not only about myself.
"What do you think happens when we die?"
"I know that the ones who loves us will miss us."
-- Keanu Reeves --
I don't want my parents to worry about me like how it was during this incident anymore. Having good health is everything.
 |
| The happy face, finally discharged and free! |
Special thanks to,
- Miss Ong and Ah Kong, who accompanied me for the entirety of the heli-evacuation;
- Ken, my roommate during the beginning few days of hiking, he was the first who discovered me in sick condition;
- Beng Guan, the person in charge of our hiking group, and our Shepa hiking guide, who together helped orchestrated the heli-evacuation.
