My uncle suffered from chronic diabetes. Two days ago he came to the hospital for his regular check-up but the doctor had to admit him because his sugar level was very high. The doctor had to monitor him all the time. He would be allowed to go home once his sugar level stabilised.
My uncle’s ward was at the fifth floor. The lift was very spacious and fast. A nurse, who was my mother’s old friend, greeted my father. She told us that my uncle was doing fine. After talking to the nurse for a while we went to Room 515. My uncle was very happy to see my father and I. A young Egyptian doctor was examining my uncle at that time. The doctor said that my uncle was getting better and he would be discharged soon.
My father chitchatted with my uncle for almost one hour. I felt bored so I went out of the room to explore the new hospital. I went to the hospital lobby. It was like a hotel lobby. There was a long list of specialists and their academic qualifications on the wall. Altogether, the hospital had 35 specialists and some of them were foreigners.
Then, I went to the cafe. I was surprised as the cafe was like a five-star restaurant. They served a variety of healthy dishes. But I would not eat there on my own as a plate of fried rice alone was RM7.50! Even a glass of plain water cost RM1.00! Initially, I planned to have something there but I just walked out as I only had RM2.15 in my pocket.
When I was waiting for the lift to go back to the fifth floor, a woman cried hysterically with her daughter. From her words, I understood that she had just lost her husband. I did not say a word but I sympathised them, especially her cute and charming daughter. I wish I could console her daughter. But before I could offer some help, the door of the