Ward C6 - Penang General Hospital.

They were skin and bones these victims of paralysis of one form or another and as i massage these forms i felt tenderness and how fragile we truly are in this human form. I felt anguish and pain within their hearts and minds, the silent scream, the horror of not being able to let it all out about how they truly felt; like they were trapped in a bottle, Their eyes were the only signs that registered any life as they stared at me darting every now and then as though not knowing where they were r trying to tell me what needed to be done. I just stood by their bedside holding their hands in mine in silent communication trying my best to feel and share their fears and sorrows. i tried to share the warmth from my body and the energy from my inner being the force that is keeping me alive and healthy, that which is keeping the whole universe alive; I shared God's presence within me in the hope that it will help to elevate their suffering.
They were Malays Muslims, Chinese, Indians, the young and the elderly and they all looked and felt like they were clinging on to dear life if not wishing they were dead. I was situated right in the middle of it all and my three days and nights in the ward C6 was like a lifetime of rude awakening; this could be me in the not too distant future. Then there were the doctors and the nurses, the care givers and the relatives and friends who each and everyone had their role to play in moments like these. In this ward human frailties and strength were exposed to the raw as wives and children stood over the patient's bed not knowing how to react towards the tragedy that has befallen their loved ones or worse their bread winner and the pillar of their lives. Most walked around like zombies themselves until they settled down and accept the fact of what they were going through and the fact of their future being in jeopardy as a family. 
The nurses who ran the ward from cleaning and washing the bodies and making sure the routine supply of medication and food is being taken from morning till night, never ceases to amaze me. To me they were the epitome of human compassion as one human being cared fro another; even if it is their job to do so. It is to one of the hardest vocation that one can undertake for it is not only physically demanding but it drains one off the very energy that keeps us alive. It is no doubt a very depressing place to work but to me these young ladies seemed not touched by all the negative or bad vibes and sometime i felt like they enjoyed the taxing challenges. These are the very manifestations of the Bodhisattva virtues in human forms. I bow my head to these selfless serving Florence Nightingales for many lives were trusted into their care and they treated each and every patient with dignity and integrity of a     caregiver. 
One  of the patient who was admitted to the ward was from my village, he was 85yrs. of age and I knew one or two of his children who greeted me and had a chat with me. This morning i was informed by my cousin that a close friend had died in Sungai Pinang, a guy one yer older than me and so i went to pay him my last respect. As i was hatting away with my childhood friends who was at the funeral I found out the the 85 yr. old patient had died yesterday night and was buried in the afternoon. Coincidences? I was told that usually the ripper would claim three at a time from a community, perhaps i am not off the hook yet.