Tableware, check; Basin check; Toiletries, Check; Pajama, check; Kindle, check; laptop, check, check. When I was packing up for the hospital, I was like back to the college and packed up for the military camp----a week or more sentence in ward, and came back with a cancel-free (you wish) but ‘incomplete body’---all right, when you got a whole year to get used to this fact, it’s really not a big deal. Besides, it’s the second time and I’d already known the whole drill.

Just a little bit different. Okay, I am just playing cool here. In fact, there is a whole package of differences: COVID-19 test, temperature detect almost everywhere, no takeout, no visitor (except the surgery day), certainly no slipping out.

This time I have to fight a one man’s battle, with flooding support messages from my family and my friends for comfort. Among them, there is one from my half-brother. It’s kind of strange, to be reminded of being a sister. 

To look at the bright side, a quiet ward is much better than a noisy one to divert my attentions between the tests.

What’s really bothering me is a call from my son’ teacher. My son seemed to catch a cold. He wasn’t running a fever—thank God—but he’s sneezing, light-headed, and dozing all the time. It really nerve-racking in this sensitive time. So my husband picked him up and sent him to a clinic. Nothing serious, just a cold. After half a day’s rest, he’s already recovered. However, he needs a diagnosis from a hospital not a clinic to come back school. So…. hospital again.

It sucks to get sick, either a cancer or a cold, in the time of COVID-19